London 1902
After an assault on the ladies orchestrated by Mr De Haan, Sir Hector arranges for some self-defence lessons for Mary and Georgina...
'Hector thinks it would be a good idea if we were to receive some lessons in the noble art of self-defence. He points out in his note that you may not always be able to rely on a rolling pin being to hand, Mary.' Georgina raised her eyebrows at me in her inimitable way.
'A reasonable point, Georgina.' I smiled back.
'Exactly. Anyway, tomorrow evening we are to attend the Berkley Club in Berkley Square at half past seven to meet a certain Mr Portman, who will put us through our paces. He advises us to wear loose clothing, as physical activity will be involved.'
There was an obvious remark to be made at that point; however, as we were both civilised and decorous ladies, neither of us made it. We both thought it, though. And, of course, one of us sniggered.
At the appointed time the following evening, we presented ourselves at what proved to be a gentleman's sporting club in the southwest corner of Berkley Square. Mr Portman was waiting for us in the hall, and I heard Georgina whisper, 'Oh, my dear,' to me as he strode over.
She had a point. He was a strapping fellow in his early forties. His face was tanned and angular with lively blue eyes, a thin military style moustache, and curly black hair oiled and combed directly backwards. The fellow's physique was impressive and well set off by the white singlet he wore, which showed off his powerful shoulders to good effect. A pale blue sash circled his waist and a tight pair of tumbler's hose, ending below the knee, enclosed his muscular thighs.
'Good evening, ladies. Guests of Hector Wyatt, I assume? I am Campbell Portman. You are most welcome to the Berkley Club.' A delighted grin appeared on his face as he looked us both over rather obviously and then added, 'My word, very welcome indeed.' He had a rather engaging Scottish burr to his voice, I noticed.
'I am Mrs Beaufort and this is Miss Felix. We are here to place ourselves in your hands, Mr Portman,' said Georgina magnificently, nearly managing to avoid staring at his well-filled groin.
His grin remained in place as he answered. 'Perhaps you will permit me to show you around before we commence our activities.'
We graciously agreed to this proposal, although Georgina rather spoilt our façade by nudging me and ogling his pert bum when he turned and led the way.
The large and very pleasant entrance hall led off to various dining rooms and salons on that floor and above, whilst below, the building extended downwards two floors, the first containing a well-equipped gymnasium with wall bars and a range of apparatus. The lowest floor was given over to a sizeable swimming pool in an attractive pillared hall. A steam room occupied one corner of the pool area, and day beds and cushioned benches completed the furnishings. All was done to the highest quality, and the whole place was redolent with privilege and luxury. We were both much impressed, although Mr Portman had to explain to me the meaning and purpose of the steam room, as they were in short supply in Devon.
Finally he led us into the gymnasium and indicated a door in the far corner. 'The changing room is over there, ladies. Don't worry, as there will be no men in it at this time in the evening. Strip down to the last level of decency, if you please. We will be performing some choreographed movements that require as much freedom for manoeuvre as possible.'
And so it proved.
Over the next two hours, we huffed and puffed our way around choke holds, jujitsu throws, and various blows and strikes to the vulnerable parts of the body. Mr Portman showed us how to deal with an assailant grasping us around the neck from behind, swinging a punch from the front, and, most alarming, a knife thrust to the stomach.
Then we moved on to wrestling holds, in case an assailant threw us to the ground, and the vulnerable pressure points on the male body. One of which was already well known to us.
Inevitably Georgina peppered this element of the exercise with much eye rolling and the occasional louche remark as she grappled with our instructor.
Nevertheless, it was a fascinating lesson, and, although we were hardly experts, by the end I think both of us were confident we could do more than just scream if the worst happened. Indeed, I felt that had the Francombe assault occurred after this session, then I might have triumphed without Sir Tommy's assistance.
At ten o'clock, Mr Portman suggested that we had done enough. Then he added, 'However, before we finish, I wanted to give you both one of these.' At this, he walked over to a chest next to a set of wall bars. Opening a drawer, he withdrew something and returned to where we were standing. Opening his palm, he held out two silver hat pins. 'Please take one each.'
I picked mine out of his hand. It was noticeably heavier and more robust than a normal pin and had a wide circular head the size of a guinea at one end that fitted snugly into the palm of my hand. Altogether, it was five inches long at least.
'If you are going into a situation that carries a degree of threat, then please wear a hat. And secure it with this hat pin. As a last resort, place it against your assailant's body and drive it in with a palm thrust. Into the leg or arm will distract them so you can run. Into the ear or eye will kill them.'
I looked at him and then at Georgina. For once she seemed shocked into silence as he continued. 'I hope that this evening has been useful to you, and I most fervently hope that you never have the need to put any of your new learning into practice. Please get changed and make your way upstairs again. Mrs Beaufort, Miss Felix, it has been a pleasure.' He shook our hands and turned to leave the gymnasium by the way we had entered.
'Shame,' said Georgina as we repaired to the changing room. Once inside, she turned to me and pouted a little.
I raised my eyebrows at her, but I knew what she was thinking and could not disagree. Watching Mr Portman's muscles flex and bulge as he demonstrated the fighting arts had been very diverting, and at times I had found myself idly speculating about what he would like with those athletic clothes removed. As I returned from my reverie, I could see a look in Georgina's eye that indicated misbehaviour was about to make its appearance.
'Would you like to have a swim, Mary?' she asked.
'No, Georgina. We should be getting dressed.' I tried to sound firm.
'But the pool is just one floor down, and there's no one else down here at this time of night. Mr Portman said so. They're all in the rooms upstairs. And we're so overheated.' She leaned forward and pulled at the front of my camisole. The material moved over my nipple, causing it to stand up rather obviously. 'Poor Mary, so flushed and hot,' she whispered and met my eye.
My resistance wavered and then crumbled in the face of her gloriously naughty expression. The woman was irresistible when she put her mind to it.
Arm in arm and giggling to ourselves, we crept downstairs. The swimming pool looked delightful, its motionless silver surface steaming gently in the silent pillared room. Something about the tranquility of the place quietened us as well, and, with a whisper or two, we removed our remaining clothes and slipped naked into the water. After our exertions upstairs, the sensation of the cool silky water was delicious, and we slowly stroked up and down for a few lengths.
After a while I stopped at the shallow end, near the door through which we had entered. Hearing a splash, I turned and saw Georgina climbing the wide marble steps at the far end. She posed nude and glorious for a moment at the top of the flight, then gestured towards the steam room and collected a white towel from a pile before opening the door and disappearing inside.
I have always enjoyed swimming and slowly made my way up and down the pool for another few minutes. Just as I was thinking I would join Georgina for my first steam room experience, I heard the faint sound of voices drifting over from the stairwell outside. I sat waist deep on the steps at the deep end and cocked an ear. Yes, men's voices laughing and definitely getting louder.
