Tuppence in a Tizzy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Tuppence loses all her clothes - again

Tuppence looked at her watch with a growing sense of alarm. The plane was going in forty minutes and she still hadn't checked in. Where was Sally! She should have been here by now. Sally had organised the whole holiday and where was she?


She pulled out her mobile and dialled the number again. Sally's voice came over loud and clear. She had a loud clear voice, the sort of posh Home Counties cut glass voice, the sort that is always loud.


"This is Sally here," her crisp efficient tones rang out loud and clear, "... or not here, which is why you need to leave me a message after the bleep."


Tuppence didn't leave a message. She had already left six. What was she doing there? Her life was chaotic enough at the best of times, what with Tarquin and James, and what Tarquin thought of James, and how James hadn't approved of Tuppence losing all her clothes at the party and him being all beastly about it.


So Sally had arranged the holiday; Sally was James's sister and she had thought it best that Tuppence get away from it all for a bit, before she lost all her clothes again or something.


It was only then that she noticed that she had voice mail. It must be Sally. She pressed the button. It was.


"Hi! Sal here. Look Tuppence, can't make it today! Man trouble and all that. You just go ahead. Taxi will meet you at the airport! All arranged! Ciao!"


Tuppence felt herself overwhelmed with panic. She was going to have to cope on her own! Quickly she grabbed her case and ran helter-skelter to the check-in desk, colliding as she got there with a very good looking man in a red flower patterned tee-shirt. He picked her up of the floor and her heart gave a little flutter. Tuppence's love-life was about to become more complicated than it already was: Tarquin, James, and now red-tee-shirt man! 


How Tuppence had got herself onto the plane she never knew. She was all of a tizzy having met Roger, as red-tee-shirt man turned out to be called, while still officially with James, and after that party when she had taken all her clothes off because of Tarquin. How could she have been so stupid! How they had all laughed. She blushed red even at the thought of it, but Tarquin had been a bit special. As was Roger, as was James. Oh dear! Things were getting complicated.


On the other hand, she being Tuppence, things were always complicated. She picked up her back-pack. She had got this far because Roger had helped her, taken her hand, guided her along, one hand gently on the small of her back, just on the spot that made Tuppence feel all of a tizzy. Oh dear!


Now that the flight had landed Roger had disappeared. One wave and he'd gone and poor Tuppence was left in the arrivals hall at Palma all of a tizzy with no idea what to do!


Taxi! That was it! Sally had said there'd be a taxi. There was a row of waiting drivers all holding up little boards with names on. None of them said 'Tuppence' or even her ridiculous surname, which she never used, never ever!


But of course! The solution came to her immediately. She wasn't that silly, no matter what people thought, the taxi would be in Sally's name. She looked at the row of cards but none said 'Sally Marr'. There was one taxi driver at the end, looking puzzled, he didn't have a card. Perhaps he had forgotten it poor thing, thought Tuppence.


Amazed at her own resourcefulness she went up to him and asked.


"Are you waiting for Sally Marr?"




"No, not Kay, Sally," she spoke loud and slowly so that he would understand. All foreigners could speak English if you shouted at them, even Tuppence knew that.


"Que? No entendiendo."


"Not, not Kay, Sally. Sally Marr!" Tuppence shouted even louder, her high pitched voice beginning to sound desperate. A look of comprehension dawned on the drivers face, as did a big grin.


"Si, si senorita, Slimar, we go there. I take you!"


Tuppence felt a tremendous pride in her achievement. She'd got a taxi all on her own!




Tuppence had looked adorable at that party, thought James, standing there with nothing on, her face all red and saying Tarquin had told her, and everybody laughing. 


She was such a scatterbrain and it had been mean of that awful Tarquin to take advantage and of everybody to laugh. Still, the cute little Tuppence had looked adorable, the prettiest face he'd ever seen, the long black hair, the clear green eyes, her shapely figure with curves in all the right places, and of course her lovely bosoms. Why were girls with those perfectly formed plump round bosoms so adorable? He didn't know, but of course they were.


It had been he who had suggested Sal take her away to the family villa in Majorca for a week. Their parents were due to go out there and the girls could join them. She needed to get away. The villa was up on the north west coast, away from the tourist areas, set among the verdant hills north of Soller and overlooking the sea. Quiet, secluded, beautiful. Tuppence would love it, and Sal would look after her.




Only Sal wasn't there. Tuppence sat looking at the hills and the Mediterranean pines and wondered what on earth she was going to do for a week stuck out in the middle of nowhere. Still, it was beautiful, the air was clear, the sun was still warm and tomorrow she could laze by the pool and wait for Sally. She walked up to the door of the imposing villa and for the first time a thought struck her. How on earth was she going to get in!


Sally must have a key or something, but Tuppence didn't. She rattled the door, but it didn't open. She'd ring Sally! But all she got was, 'This is Sally here, or not here, which is why you need to leave me a message, after the bleep!'.


It was a chance for the new resourceful Tuppence. There was a window open upstairs, if she could just climb the trellising. 


The wooden trellis was nailed to the wall and covered in purple flowering bougainvillea. Tuppence might have been little, she might have been cute and she might have been a scatterbrain, but she was also a bit of a tomboy. She knew how to climb.


Inside, the villa was cool, and beautiful, there was wine in the cooler, and beer, loads of it, and food in the fridge. Tuppence texted Sally that she’d arrived safely, chose a bedroom for herself, ate some bread and a funny sort of cheese, took off her clothes and stuck them in her back pack (Tuppence would never have actually thought of unpacking) and slipped between the clean sheets, crisp and cool against her naked body! 


If only James were there, or Tarquin, or Roger, naked beside her! But still, there'd be men in the village to get in a tizzy about, probably, there always were. Weren't there?




It had been James who had taken her to Tarquin's party, in his waterside apartment in the City. She had got in a Tizzy about Tarquin straight away. She could see Tarquin felt the same; if James was distracted for a few minutes they'd get a chance some time during the evening. That's the way it was with Tuppence when she got in a tizzy about someone. She wanted to tear her clothes off and leap into bed with them straight away. She just had to wait for Tarquin to make a move.


And he did.


"So, Tuppence? Yah!" He said, "That's a funny name. Yah!"


He punctuated every phrase with the meaningless expletive 'Yah!'


"Is it?" Tuppence had replied.


"Tuppenny buns," Tarquin had said. He had said it quite clearly, "Tuppenny BUNS! Yah!"


Later he had claimed it was cockney rhyming slang, but Tuppence knew better. Everybody knew what B.U.N.S meant. It meant 'Be Upstairs Naked Sweetie'. And there was only one reason why Tarquin would want her upstairs naked. And James had been busy organising some game, and she had been in a tizzy with Tarquin, so she had gone upstairs and taken all her clothes off and then... 




Lying in the bed in the villa with nothing on she blushed at the thought of what had happened next. Still, tomorrow was another day, as Shakespeare said. She was proud of remembering that. That stupid teacher had been wrong. She could remember Shakespeare.


The morning dawned hot and sunny. Tuppence found juice and butter and bread and milk and coffee. Sally must have wonderful parents to have a place like this. She went to fetch her bikini to laze by the pool. Except there was no bikini in her back pack.


"Bother!" she said aloud. She was so hopeless at things like packing. She had totally forgotten to bring it! And she had been so looking forward to a laze in the sun and a dip in the pool. Still, who needed a swimming costume! This was Spain. This was secluded. It was hot. She hadn't put anything on yet and she didn't need to put anything on for outside. She pushed her things back in her back pack and shoved it under the bed. Then she went down to go out onto the terrace. Except the door wouldn't open. It was deadlocked. All the doors were deadlocked. She couldn't get out.


Then she remembered the trellising. Easy-peasy! She could climb down that. 


Spanish workmanship is unfortunately perhaps not always as good as it ought to be. The trellising had been fixed by some incompetent who had thought it would just have to support a bougainvillea, not the weight of a Tuppence. Not that she was heavy, just that she was somewhat heavier than a bougainvillea.


With a loud tearing sound trellising, bougainvillea and the naked Tuppence parted company with the wall, all three ending up with an enormous splash in the swimming pool.


Tuppence climbed out and surveyed the damage. Mr and Mrs Marr were not going to be pleased. Still, Sally would sort things out. She sorted everything out. 


But why had she climbed down naked! She was so silly. She could have put some clothes on and got undressed by the pool and she'd never thought of that.


Still what was done was done. Tuppence pulled a sun lounger out into the sun and lay down on it. Sun block, she thought, but of course it was inside the house as well, and there was no way of getting back in. She'd have to wait for Sally. Sally would know what to do. She lay on her tummy in the sun, her cute little bottom feeling delightfully warm under the hot rays of the sun, and fell asleep. 




Tuppence blamed James. Well she blamed Tarquin as well, but mostly she blamed James. Everybody else thought Tuppence the architect of her own misfortune. But she blamed James. He was the one who had decided to play sardines.


The game of sardines is played as follows:


Make the house as dark as possible:

Choose one person to hide somewhere in a dark hiding place like a cupboard.


This person is the sardine. Everyone else is a sardine hunter.


While the chosen person hides, the people left count to 50 (slowly, give the person hiding some time to find a hiding place).


When the sardine hunters are done counting they try to find the sardine. 


This is done in the dark, so make sure you leave all of the lights out! If you find a person that you believe is hiding, you must ask, "Are you the sardine?” If they are, they must answer, "Yes, I am the sardine." at which point, you become one with the sardine. That is to say, you must hide in the same spot and stay quiet. You don't want anyone else to find you. 


As everyone finds the sardine, they hide with them. Everyone does this until there is only one person left, and that person is the next sardine.


You might ask why Tuppence hid in the cupboard when she wasn't even the sardine. Well she was in Tarquin's bedroom waiting for him to come up when she heard somebody coming upstairs, and when she peeked through the door it was Veronica, Tarquin's wife, and Tuppence was lying naked on the bed, as Tarquin had instructed her. 


Under the circumstances it had seemed reasonable to hide in the cupboard. But Veronica was looking for the sardine and she had peered into the dark cupboard. Then when Veronica had found her she had asked if she was the sardine. And Tuppence had said yes, although she had no idea what she was going on about, but she couldn't admit to hiding in the dark stark naked waiting for Tarquin.


Then much to Tuppence's surprise Veronica joined Tuppence in the cupboard, and she hadn't even noticed Tuppence was naked. And then more people joined them and they were all squashed in together. And nobody could see Tuppence had nothing on because it was so dark. That is not until the game was over.

Sally had perhaps been a little economical with the truth when she had suggested that she was having man trouble. The trouble was with James, her brother, and Tarquin. And the aftermath of the fight.


The Tuppence and James situation had to be sorted out, and she thought she knew how.




On the island of Majorca Roger, now no longer wearing his distinctive tee-shirt, was leading his little group of hikers. He had been a hiking guide for Overseas Mountain Guides (OMG tours) for a couple of years now. People thought of Majorca as just sun, sand and hordes of tourists, but the mountains of the island were rugged, beautiful and quiet.


His group of twelve were a motley bunch. The usual couples with their matching tee shirts, the old stalwarts with their stout boots and walking sticks, the chatterbox and the pain in the arse.


On this particular trip the pain in the arse was called Rory. Ex-army, or so he claimed, he was six feet six, had a flaming red beard, thought he knew everything about everything, walked twice as fast as everyone else. He was at that very minute a quarter of a mile ahead striding out for the villa where they were to stop for refreshments.


Roger was very proud of negotiating this stop off with the villa owners. The view from the pool terrace was stunning and the villa was stocked with food, beer, wine and orange juice, to satisfy all tastes. The owner had said the children were coming for a few days, but Roger felt they wouldn't mind a group of visitors.


Rory was looking forward to the beer as he approached the villa, and of course the view. Why couldn't those other stupid fools keep up! He'd have to wait till that idiot Roger caught up as he had the key to get in. Determinedly he strode out and up on to the pool terrace.


The view was extraordinary. More extraordinary than he expected. A petite, dark haired, and rather shapely girl was lying face down on a sun lounger. She was fast asleep and she was completely in the nude.


Rory was horror stricken. Nude! In this sun! He could see she had no sun block on. Her neatly rounded bottom was already starting to turn pink. She'd get sunstroke! His army training taught him that. Not a doubt of it.


There was only one remedy. Immediate cooling off. He would have to throw her in the pool. Quite why the pool was full of bougainvillea that appeared to have been torn off the wall he wasn't quite clear, but there was no point in delay. Immediate action was required.


Roger heard the screams a quarter of a mile away.


As for poor Tuppence. Happily dreaming of an intimate moment naked in the sun with Mr Red-tee-shirt man she had found herself suddenly woken by being grasped roughly round the waist, hauled off the lounger and thrown headlong into the swimming pool.


She came spluttering to the surface covered in bougainvillea. A huge red-bearded monster was yelling at her. She had to escape. Lock herself in the villa. Call for help. She pulled herself out the water, and dragging her covering of bougainvilleas behind her made a bee-line for the front door of the villa.


It was locked of course. And for the first time she noticed something. There, above the door, was a sign - "Villa Sol y Mar".


Realisation broke in on a brain even as scatterbrained as that of our lovely Tuppence.


The taxi hadn't brought her to the villa of Sally Marr but to the villa of Sol y Mar. No wonder it had been locked! And now the owner, the angry giant with the red beard, had returned, and found her sunbathing naked on his terrace, and found she had broken into his villa, and found she had pulled all his bougainvillea off the wall. No wonder he was angry. No wonder he had thrown her in his pool.


She turned, and as fast as her little feet could carry her she fled.


Roger came panting up the hill to the villa and surveyed the scene of desolation in front of him.


"Rory! What on earth has happened?"


"Girl sunbathing in the nude Sir!" barked Rory, "Threw her in the pool Sir! For her own good Sir!"


Roger looked round in horror. A small semi-naked figure, only partly covering her nudity with some strands of bougainvillea could be seen running away through the olive groves.


He clasped his head in his hands. It was a disaster. Rory had thrown the daughter of the house into the swimming pool stark naked. No wonder she had run off! He was already calculating how many thousands of pounds OMG tours were going to be sued for. Money that would come out of his pocket.


"Stay here," he yelled at the group who were just toiling up the path to the villa, and he set off in pursuit of the fleeing nymph.




Poor Tuppence. When all the sardines packed in the cupboard had been found and come out, she had been carried along with them. Now she stood in the bedroom without a stitch on, crouching slightly, vainly trying to hide her maidenly orbs with one hand and covering her maidenly virtue with the other, while she looked wildly round blushing like a tomato looking for somewhere to escape.


"Tuppence! What on earth!" said James.


"He told me to!" shouted Tuppence, pointing at Tarquin, "He said 'tuppenny buns'."


"Eh?" The question on everybody's lips came from James.


"Its cockney rhyming slang. Yah!" blustered Tarquin.


"But you're not a cockney. You were born in Tunbridge Wells," James was having none of this, although he had no idea what Tuppence was going on about. Tuppence could feel her blush spreading down her body. All those people could see her with nothing on. She thought she would die of embarrassment. Why didn't James do something!


"I live in the east end. Yah!" said Tarquin.


"A penthouse suite in the city doesn't count."


"It's tuppeny buns. Rhyming slang for well - buns. And Tuppence has such nice ones. Yah!"


Tuppence, whose hands were fully occupied covering maidenly orbs and maidenly virtue realised that everyone was now looking at her buns which weren't covered by anything. Quickly she covered her left cheek with one hand and her right with the other. She looked round. Everybody was looking at her maidenly orbs (and why wouldn't they - they were so plump and gorgeous) and maidenly virtue.


"James!" she shrieked. "Do something!"


Unfortunately he did. But it wasn't what Tuppence had meant.




Tuppence, running barefoot through the olive groves dressed in nothing but a few strands of purple bougainvillea had no idea what to do next. Phone Sally! That was it! Sally would sort things out. But first she had to find a phone. Up ahead of her was another villa, with a terrace, a pool, and a small man watching her approach intently. This was her chance. She would try this villa.


Having arrived at the villa Tuppence found she had no idea what she was going to say. A small man with pebble lensed spectacles greeted her with unexpected warmth.


"Do come in my dear!" he exclaimed, and then to a shadowy figure emerging from the villa, "Vi, this is the girl from the Sol y Mar. I just watched her coming from there through the olive grove. I told you she'd join our little luncheon party."


"You did nothing of the sort, Henry," said a large lady in a flowery print dress, "and what's she wearing anyway?"


"A lovely flowery dress. Can I introduce you my dear. This is Vi, my..." He seemed to be searching for the appropriate word, "...wife." It was best to leave it at that, "...and this is er..." He had clearly forgotten the name of the girl from the Sol y Mar and was waiting for Tuppence to supply it.


Tuppence's head was in a whirl. She was going to have to say something. She couldn't say Tuppence, it was too memorable. She searched around for a name.


"Sally," she blurted out. A look of relief came over Henry's face as if he had momentarily mislaid the name and it had just come to him.


"This is Vi, and I'm Henry. Do sit down dear," indicating a table on the terrace already set with plates and cutlery. The others will be arriving soon."


Others! Tuppence didn't know what to say or do. Her bougainvillea was beginning to wilt and she had nothing on under it.


"Now my dear," Henry seemed determined to engage her in conversation, "what are you up to nowadays. Still at university?"


Tuppence nodded glumly. Well she was.


"And what is it you are studying may I ask?"


Tuppence tried to remember what Sally was studying.


"French and Spanish," she blurted out. Too late she realised her mistake. She should have just said what she was studying, not Sally. Though media studies and art didn't quite have the same ring to them.


"Spanish!" said Henry, "How wonderful. Been here fifteen years and don't speak a word of it myself. Vi! Sally speaks Spanish. Isn't that wonderful?"


"No it isn't. I don't hold with speaking foreign. Foreigners should speak English like civilised people. If it was good enough for Jesus it should be good enough for them!"


"I don't think Jesus spoke English dear."


"Of course he did. Haven't you read the bible? 'Verily I say unto you'. That's English isn't it?"


Henry seemed unclear if it was English or not. A change of subject was needed.


"Here's Carlos with the wine. You'll be able to practice on him."


Tuppence looked with horror as a handsome dark haired man approached bearing a crate of bottles. And there she was wearing nothing but a bit of wilting bougainvillea and getting into a tizzy about a new man. She felt an overwhelming desire to tear the bougainvillea off and leap into bed with him.


"Go on, say something in Spanish, dear."


Tuppence searched her scatterbox of a brain for Spanish picked up on various youthful holidays on the Costa Brava.


"Er... Una cerveza por favor vino tinto gracias una paloma blanca yo soy un hombre sincero y viva Espana," she ended with an attempt at a flourish.


Carlos listened to this gibberish with his mouth falling wider and wider open. The piece of bougainvillea covering the girl's bosoms was slowly slipping down to reveal... His jaw dropped open completely.


"Sus tetas," he gasped, looking down with his eyes to draw attention to the wardrobe malfunction, "Puedo ver sus tetas!"


Tuppence looked at him blankly. What on earth was he going on about?


"Sus tetas," he said more loudly, and then summoning up what little English he had, "Your titties. Can see your titties!"


Tuppence looked down in horror. The wilting bougainvillea had come away from her chest entirely. Quickly she tried to pull it back into place but only succeeded in dislodging it further. In two seconds it had unravelled completely and dropped to her feet.


Roger heard the crash of wine bottles hitting stone paving as he came in through the gate and on to the terrace. There he was greeted by the funniest thing he had seen in his life. Frozen as if in a tableau vivant was the extraordinarily cute dark haired girl from the flight wearing nothing but a look of horror on her face, a delightful blush covering a pair of stunning bosoms and her birthday suit. Around her stood a Spanish waiter, mouth agape, a little man in pebble lensed spectacles and a large woman in a flowery dress. He burst out laughing.


Tuppence looked at him horrified. It was Roger, the red-tee-shirt-man. And he could see her with nothing on. And he was laughing at her!


She felt so much of a tizzy that the blood rushed to her head, then to her feet, she came over all faint and with a loud splash she collapsed naked into the swimming pool.


Roger looked on horrified as suddenly a huge red bearded figure rushed past. Rory had disobeyed the instruction to stay put at the Sol y Mar.


Tuppence, brought to life by the sudden immersion was splashing and screaming in the water as Rory, with a great cry of, "Let me through. I was in the army, launched himself into the pool landing directly on top of her.




When she had screamed out to James to "Do something!" She had rather had in mind something in the order of getting her clothes, or fetching a towel to cover her nakedness. What she was not suggesting was that James should punch Tarquin on the nose.


Now when one English gentleman punches another English gentleman on the nose at a party it is usually a cause for much jubilation as it presages the onset of what is colloquially termed a 'punch up'; and there is nothing livens up a party as a punch up, especially when the cause of the punch up is a cute little dark haired girl who had unaccountably lost all her clothes.


Unfortunately the mayhem resulting from a punch up is such that it is likely to result in the neighbours summoning the forces of law and order.


Tuppence thought it was all really most unfair. It seemed to her that she had been the only one not involved in the punch up and she was the only one sitting in a police cell having been arrested and charged with conduct likely to cause a breach of the piece.


For, as the police rightly surmised, if a girl chooses to prance around in front or red blooded males completely in the nude a punch up is the most likely outcome. Anyway, if you were a policeman which would you rather arrest - some drunken Hooray Henrys or a naked girl?


They threw her out the cells at three in the morning, having been provided with a blanket by a friendly sergeant on the strict understanding that she brought it back the following morning. Sitting on the night bus on the way home she was not best pleased, especially as she had no money and had had to persuade the driver to let her on by flashing her titties. It had all been too embarrassing.


Sally hadn't even been sympathetic. James had a black eye and Tarquin a suspected broken nose. All because of Tuppence and her scatterbrained notions.


It had taken some time for Sally to come round. James however had worked on her so Sally had planned to holiday. Tuppence had no idea that James would be coming as well.




Roger looked down at the inert figure of the naked girl lying on her back beside the pool. Rory was coughing his lungs out nearby. Disaster wasn't the word for it. One of his ramblers had attempted to murder the daughter of the villa owner, naked in a swimming pool. That was his bonus gone for the season.


Fortunately her rather delightfully plump bosoms were rising and falling with her breathing. With any luck she'd come round soon.


The other hikers fed up with waiting gathered round offering the usual jumble of contradictory advice. However Roger was concerned about one thing. Her legs were separated to the extent that her neatly trimmed private parts were displayed, clearly visible to all and sundry. Should he leave things as they were, her intimate lips fixed in a strange caricature of a smile, or draw attention to the situation by ostentatiously closing her legs.


Tuppence was lying in the sun. She could feel its warm rays on her bare skin. It was wonderful to relax in a secluded spot, far from prying eyes. Suddenly, and to her intense surprise, she felt to hands grasp her bare legs and push them forcibly together.


She opened her eyes with a start and screamed. There was the great red bearded giant. The owner of the villa that she had unwittingly broken into. She screamed again, and kept on screaming until they got her into the villa and put her to bed.




"I'm looking forward to seeing this girl of James," Alec Marr was still a good looking man, though by now in his early fifties.


"I trust she'll have some clothes on when we get there," Melissa, Sally’s mother said as they travelled on the bumpy road up to the villa. The parents had joined Sally and James on their trip to Majorca.


“It wasn’t her fault,” James blustered, "that rotter Tarquin tricked her."


“And she fell for it? Taking all her clothes off at a party? Sounds a bit gullible to me.”


“Just a bit of a scatterbrain,” said Sally, “she gets in a tizzy sometimes.” Though she didn't explain that when Tuppence got in a tizzy with a man she usually tore her clothes off and leapt into bed. It was best James didn't know that.


“And she’s definitely at the villa.”


“I got a rather strange text, but she says she’s there.”


“Well we’ll soon see. There’s the villa there. Oh My God. It looks as if a bomb’s hit it!”




Tuppence lay under the clean white sheet in the bedroom listening to the muffled voices coming from below. She was still completely naked. They’d left her with no clothes on so that she wouldn’t escape. That must be the reason. That horrible man with the red beard would want her arrested.


Wrapping the sheet round her she crept to the door. The voices were louder from there. She could here Vi distinctly.


“The police! We ought to call the police!”


The police! Tuppence nearly dropped her towel in fright. They were coming to arrest her! And she’d not get any towel from the local police. She knew that. She’d just have to escape. But how? Then of course the solution came to her. Lower herself down from the window using the sheet. A quick run back to the villa, retrieve her things and scarper. Ref haired man was at Henry and Vi's villa. The plan was foolproof!


For a tomboy like Tuppence escaping out the window was no problem. It was only when she got to the ground that it dawned on her that she couldn't retrieve the sheet and she was stranded naked again. There was nothing for it but to run.


Down on the terrace they were discussing what to do next.


"Call the police," shouted Vi, though why the police would be interested nobody knew.


Roger was trying to calm her down when suddenly, "Oh My God! No!"


He had spotted the naked figure of Tuppence running back up the hill to the Sol y Mar.


The others followed his gaze, and as one they set off in hot pursuit.




"What on earth!" Alec Marr was staring at his beautiful swimming pool filled with bits of wood and bougainvillea.


"Tuppence," shouted Sally, "Are you there Tuppence?"


Tuppence heard her calling as she came round from the back of the villa. Sally had found her! She was saved! How she had done it Tuppence didn't know. But she was saved!


She raced round to the front.


Mouths agape the newcomers watched as the stark naked Tuppence rounded the side of the villa rapidly followed by a man in a red tee shirt, a huge man with a ginger beard, a woman in a flowery dress dragging a little man in pebble-lensed spectacles and an assorted group of hikers.


Tuppence looked round in alarm. She'd done it again. Paraded in front of everybody in the nude! In front of James, his parents and even as she realised now, Roger the red tee-shirt man.


And they were all laughing. Poor little naked Tuppence, her cheeks so red, the look on her face so comical. They shouldn't have laughed, but who can resist laughing at a cute girl caught in the nude. It was just so funny!


As for Tuppence. Tizzy didn't even half describe what she felt. Her cheeks burned, she didn't know what to cover with her hands and she remembered she'd been lying with her legs apart.


There was only one thing to do.


She collapsed into the pool.


Roger tried to stop him, but he was too late.


"I was in the army," yelled Rory as he launched himself on top of her.




"Are you all right? Sorry for laughing and all that."


Tuppence was lying in bed under a crisp white sheet upstairs in her old bedroom at the Sol y Mar. She wasn't naked. Sally had thought it wise to lend her some pyjamas.


"You mean this really is your villa?" she asked.


"Of course," said Sally, "Sol y Mar - Sally Marr. Dad thought ever such a clever play on words."


"Sorry about the bougainvillea."


"Don't worry somebody's come to fix it. You get some rest now."


Tuppence nodded. Rescue by Rory took some getting over.


"And no more tizzies!" said Sally as she left the room.


"Absolutely not!" replied Tuppence, "and she really meant it."


But as she looked out the window a face suddenly appeared there. The man come to mend the trellising, up a ladder and peering in. It was Carlos, the good looking man who had warned her about her titties.


Carlos smiled and waved, and then his mouth dropped open. The cute little girl with the nice titties was tearing off her pyjamas.


Tuppence was getting in a tizzy again.


Submitted: March 15, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Joex. All rights reserved.

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