THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 11...Part 2.

A continuation of my book.

"And the difference between Billie and Nanny?" I asked.
"The Billie is far more aware of status and the importance of not being seen to be clumsy or immature. The female, on the other hand, is more in touch with her feelings and her sense of power within the home where she "Nannies’ her charges and remains the wise head of the household."
To me the Capricorn lady sounded rather formidable. Forewarned is forearmed as they say and I set my sights on the local library where I might glean a bit more information about this authoritative ‘Nanny Goat’.

Having arrived at the tomb of silence and finding the appropriate reading material, I ensconced myself in a secluded corner and began to seek out information about the wily nature of Madame Capricorn.
"Do you believe in Astrology?" came a woman's’ voice in half-whisper over the top of the book.
Lowering the book, my eyes met those of a thin-faced woman bent over with inquiry. I smiled. Now, if you remember, way back, one dislikes admitting to being interested in things of an occult nature. It’s okay for the female of the species, a morning’s gossip comparing the merits of the days’ Sun-Signs in the Daily’s. But the male is a different breed, strong and secure in their ego.
"Oh no, no. As it happens, I’m researching for a book. I work freelance." I added, puffing up with self-importance.
The matronly female, office-dressed, looked suitably impressed.
"I didn’t mean to impose." she said. "It’s just that I’ve always been interested in Star-Signs. I couldn’t help asking…"
"That’s alright." I broke in. "I’m just sorry I can’t be of more service to you. It’s just part of my daily grind."
She smiled, creasing up wrinkles.
"I wish I had such interesting work. It must pay you well."
I nodded, explaining a fabrication of my work, increasing my sense of worth by increasing my rate of pay tenfold. Interested in what I had to say but saddened I could not be of use Astrologically-wise, she whispered… "I’ll leave you in peace, young man."
Watching her go, it seemed to me she would make a fine Capricorn, upright, severe in dress and form… Yes, she would be the ‘Stern Nanny’; she had that critical look in her eye.
Having selected my books and getting them stamped, I trudged homeward, my mind set on doing some homework, learning more as, each day, the soreness of my face and body healed.

"So, I can teach you nothing about the Capricorn female then?" said Alex after I had seated myself before him and explaining the time taken up with my reading, impressing him with my new-found intelligence. I sensed a smugness about him which immediately alerted me, as if he knew something about my next date which I would find out to my cost. I smiled, confident in my knowledge. I considered I might not know it all but I knew enough.
"Right then, my boy." said Alex, shuffling papers. "The lady’s name is Rachael Forwich. She’s thirty-eight and divorced. No children, least not noted in my papers here."
"Any animals?" I asked, still wary of his smile.
"Your guess is as good as mine, dear boy" Alex replied.
"I thought, after what happened to me the last time, you would have checked."
Alex shrugged. Not that it really mattered, after all one whiff of hairy animal, be it dog, cat or skunk and I would be off!
"The lady wants to meet you at eleven o’clock next Thursday morning if that’s convenient."
It’s a strange fact that important things always seem to crop up at the same time, a coincidence of nature; like receiving an important letter in the post which needs an urgent reply, on the Saturday morning to which you cannot give an immediate reply simply because no-one would be available until the Monday morning, leaving you to fret and fume the rest of the weekend.
"I can’t make it on Thursday morning." I said, holding up the letter I had received from the Social Services.
Here was the coincidence of nature, you see. While the Astrodate was important, money-wise, so was the summons to the DHSS office. In fact the summons to appear was far more important in the sense that, if I did not appear I was liable to have my dole-money cut off. Explaining the contents of the letter, Alex agreed that my livelihood must come first.
"Mind you Alex, I could do with a few pounds to tide me over."
If I thought, in view of my earlier injuries, Alex might just peel me off a few notes I was grossly mistaken. I might just as well gone to Fagin’s’ house without any stolen handkerchiefs, asking for payment.
"I’ll tell you what I’ll do old chap. I’ll give Rachael a phone-call and see if I can’t get your date moved forward."
"You’d do that for me." I mocked, sardonically. "Why, bless you Master."
Alex dismissed me with a wave of his hand, his wallet stuck grimly to the inside of his jacket… Miserly old sod! There was not much reading to be done because no sooner than I had reached home when the phone rang. It was Alex, informing me the impossible had been done and would I mind returning to his office for immediate instruction. I was back there before he had time to replace the receiver… Well not that quick but you catch my drift.
"Rachael will be happy to meet you outside the Hair Salon in Barnaby Street, tomorrow at two o’clock in the afternoon."
I listened to his instructions before gratefully taking my payment, then retraced my steps homeward, to relax with a hot cup of tea and an ‘A to Z’, marking a cross on the street where I was to meet Rachael the next day. The heady days of sexual expectation and fantasy were washed from me due to the experiences of my past dates. With an attitude of non-expectancy, I put the well-carried ‘Jollybags’ away in the bedside cabinet, determined to carry out my duties with no thought of sexual gratification, just the reward of a job well done. In a strange way the light of blessed relief seemed to bathe me in a kind of sainted glow, as if I’d been ‘Haloed’. Perhaps that’s how Monks feel, free from the passions of sex, the pleasures of the flesh. I’d often wondered if they ever masturbated. Did they? I mean ‘One of the wrist’ was nearly as good as the real thing providing you had the imagination to rub along with, as it were. Mind you, how could a Monk have a decent wank if he’d never experienced sex in the first place. What would he have to wank over? I slapped my wrist to bring my train of thought back under control. I had things to do!

She was short, wiry-thin, with a mop of yellow hair.
"Rachael?"
She actually seemed pleased to see me, smiling and taking my hand as we exchanged greetings. Her brown eyes, serious, judged me in a critical way, raking me up and down before accepting me as someone who was no fool.
"Would you like to go for a drink?" I asked. "Or would you prefer a cup of coffee?"
"I don’t drink." she replied in a soft voice. "Well not alcohol, I mean."
She laughed nervously. "But I’d love a cup of coffee."
Now that suited me fine. Rachael was not like some of the others I’d met, determined to drink my wallet dry. Seated in the coffee-bar, I kept up the talk about this and that but seemed to get no come-back for my trouble. Rachael nodded here and there as I talked, saying little about herself or her situation. This, I decided, was really hard work. Perhaps it was in the Capricorn nature not to converse too much at first in case something stupid came out. For a while we sat silent, Rachael stirring her coffee in an absent-minded way while I wracked my brains, searching for something which would break the deafening silence. Suddenly it came to me… Capricorn… Work… Career!
"What do you work at, Rachael, if you don’t mind me asking?" I asked.
Bingo! Her brown eyes lost the serious look and began to sparkle.
"I’m a Carer." she said with distinct pride.
"Pardon? A what?"
"A Carer. I look after people. I care for the aged and infirm, seeing to their needs."
Now it made sense to me. Of course, with Saturn being the ruling planet of Capricorn, the planet which deals with old-age, with bones, skin and teeth. Caring for the aged was an excellent job for a Cappy female. When I think about it, most people getting on in years advance into second childhood, which means good old Cappy can play at being a ‘Nanny Goat’ to these aged children!
"I’m rather like a nurse." Rachael went on, lifting her status. "I have to visit a list of old ladies who can’t ‘Do’ for themselves. I start early in the mornings, getting them out of bed and washing and dressing them."
"Do you have to cook for them too?" I asked, suitably impressed.
"Oh no, they get ‘Muck on a truck!" she exclaimed with a laugh.
"Muck on a what?"
"Meals on wheels." she explained.
It was relaxing to know this Capricorn lady had a sense of humour.
"In the evenings." Rachael carried on, "I go back to my old ladies and put them to bed, making sure they are tucked in."
At least that explained the unusual meeting time. I had wondered why Rachael wanted to meet me in the afternoon.
"So your afternoons are free then?" I asked.
She laughed, showing even white teeth.
"I only wished they were." she laughed. "In the afternoons I do the shopping for my ladies. During my morning visits I make a note of what they want and then collect the shopping during the day, before I start my rounds in the evenings.
"Crikey! You must be really dedicated to do work like that." I applauded. Rachael beamed before saying… "It’s a joy to be working for my old ladies. I love them. One of them, Old Mummy Shaftoe, is my favourite. She’s ninety if a day and saucy to go with it. They’re always a laugh, are my old ladies."
She was off, like a blood-mare out of the stocks, racing through stories told to her by her beloved old ladies. I let her have her head, driving on to the finish. She relayed tales told to her about the ‘Good old days’, about lads lost in both World Wars. I listened and laughed at antidotes, tales, some of which were really saucy. We drank countless cups of coffee while she talked. The more she talked, the more I got to like this serious-minded woman. We carried on like old chums, leaning across the table at each other, locking others out of our conversation. I was so engrossed with the stories that I jumped when Rachael gave a sudden cry of alarm.
"My God, Richard, look at the time! It’s four o’clock and I still have to get some shopping before my night-duty!"
"Come on!" I cried, gripping her arm and lifting her up. "Let’s go and do the shopping together. I can help you carry it."