The Trials Of Pammy Sideparting #writephoto

This week’s #writephoto prompt

‘You ready, Pammy?’ Gideon could barely contain himself. It had taken 4 years, three years salaries and a Lake Baikal’s amount of tea to keep the builders on track, but their dream home was finished.

Pammy, Gideon’s long suffering girlfriend was also hopping from foot to foot, but for different reasons, although a surfeit of tea was part of it. ‘I need a pee.’

‘Let’s start with the hall and…’


‘Yes, light of my existence, but first…’


Gideon tried to hide his sigh. He had the whole thing planned, down to the last detail. There were two toilets, the small one down st…

Pammy’s face appeared in his line of sight. ‘It does have a loo, doesn’t it?’


Pammy spun round and stomped to the front door. It may look like a suburban semi on the outside, but she knew her bloke. He was diligent and thoughtful, obsessed with history and fitted the nice but dim category of boyfriends to a tee. ‘Keys.’ She held out a hand as Gideon hurried to catch up.

As rapidly as his imagination allowed, Gideon had revised his itinerary. It would need him to be firm, not something he was either physically or emotionally designed to achieve. ‘Pammy, sparkling orb in my firmament, if you’d cover your eyes…’

The hissing sounded to Gideon much like he imagined an overwrought Python might sound. ‘Just give me the sodding keys, or so help me I’ll…’

Pammy stopped, shocked into silence as her normally absorbent boyfriend spun her round and wrapped a (hopefully) clean handkerchief across her eyes. ‘Humour me, sugar icing on my donuts.’

Pammy was still processing this unexpected but not unpleasant sensation as well as the curiously inapt descriptor. It hinted at a more positive if not especially masculine Gideon; maybe, given time and training this could be transferred into their sexual couplings which to date had tended to be concentrated in the limp and moist chapters of the rumpty-tumpty playbook.. Before she had time to consider how that might be achieved she heard the locks on the door being released and she was walking inside, up some stairs…

‘Ready?’ Gideon was doing a poor job of suppressing his excitement.

‘Please can I just pee and then…’

Pamela Sideparting thought of herself as level headed, a rationalist and not one to give into nonsense like magic and witchcraft. But at that very moment, her faith in the strength of her character and, indeed the wisdom of choosing Gideon as a boyfriend were being severely tested. Had she given much thought to the design of the main bathroom in their new home, she might have speculated on the colour of the suite, the chances of a double flush to minimise water usage and what sort of over bath shower Gideon had chosen (she preferred a drenching to a handheld). What she hadn’t anticipated was something that reminded her of a school trip to the Roman Baths in Bath.


Gideon skipped into view. ‘It wasn’t easy…’

‘I bet. It’s… huge.’

‘Not really.’ He reached across to where Pammy’s eyes told her there was an almost infinite open vista, beyond the stone pool and tapped on the sky. ‘Smoke and mirrors, but without the smoke.’ He sniggered. ‘It’s good, isn’t it. Accurate to the millionth pixel.’

Pammy had begun to regain a little confidence. Tentatively she reached out and touched the side of the bath. It felt like old damp stone.

‘I found that on eBay. Belonged to a Peloponnesian Count.’

‘There aren’t any taps. Or a shower.’

Gideon couldn’t look more smug. He stood back and clapped. As he did so, Pammy jumped. Three dark haired young women clad in diaphanous white dresses floated into the bathroom, making things a trifle snug. Each balanced a tall earthenware jug on their hip, from which lines of scented steam rose. ‘Grecian water maidens…’ he announced, before adding, ‘though really at the moment there’s a bit of a dearth of qualified water bearers so we’ll have to make do with a couple of Sharons and a Doreen from the local tech.’

The three women nodded, uncertainly. The one nearest the bath asked, ‘Can we pour now. My bum’s cramping.’

Gideon waved irritably at her, before turning back to Pammy. ‘What do you think?’

Pammy didn’t know where to start. ‘I think I still need the loo.’

Gideon’s expression which has become uncertain as the bathroom filled with people brightened. ‘Over here.’

Pammy followed Gideon the three steps to another stone box, this with a square wooden lid. Gideon lifted it and they peered inside. Pammy was the first to speak. ‘It’s a hole.’

Gideon frowned. ‘Technically it’s a medieval long drop, which was the state of the art in castle effluvient disposal, circa 1470. If you look closely there’s a small midden. It’s next to the recycling bin.’

‘It doesn’t flush, does it? And where do I wash my hands?’

Gideon looked over his shoulder at an uncertain looking water bearers. ‘One of the Sharons…’

The nearest woman’s expression turned to horror. ‘You never said I’d be a bog washer. Stuff this.’ She dumped her urn and left, followed quickly by the other two.

‘Don’t worry, properly qualified staff will be available when we move in. Now, let’s have a look at the bedrooms. I took inspiration from Versailles for them.’

Pammy groaned. ‘What about the kitchen?’

‘Of you’ll love it. When I saw Downton Abbey I knew exactly…’

Pammy pushed Gideon out into the hall and shut the door. ‘I’ll have my pee and when I’ve finished we’re going to my mother’s. You go and get the car…’

‘I can’t…’

‘You didn’t sell the car to pay for this?’

‘No, I traded it…’

‘You didn’t get a motorbike. I hate motorbikes…’

‘No, of course not, delectable essence. I’ve a chariot.’

‘A chariot?’

‘Yes, it’s very swish though removing the blades from the wheel hubs was a challenge. And finding an acquiescent pony isn’t easy in Bromley…’

Pammy stood and looked around for some toilet paper. Nothing. That was it, the final straw. She could cope with this house of horrors, sharing her bathroom with three water bearers and even a ridiculous form of transport. But an absence of super soft three ply was too much… There are some modern innovations that cannot be ignored….

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
This entry was posted in #writephoto, creative writing, humour, miscellany and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to The Trials Of Pammy Sideparting #writephoto

  1. noelleg44 says:

    Another great flight, Geoff! I loved this one, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t make it to a proper loo.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Raven says:

    Nice one

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Love it………… I read there may be another TP shortage ………………

    Liked by 1 person

  4. L.K. Latham says:

    If I didn’t think there was a Gideon out there that would do this, it wouldn’t be so funny.


    • TanGental says:

      The world isn’t really prepared for a Gideon but I fear the megalomania is possible, given the right combination of naïveté, egregious greed and an overdose of flat whites…


  5. KL Caley says:

    Haha brilliant. As much as I love my historical sites, I would agree on the 3 ply requirements. Our modern bottoms aren’t cut out for much else. Thank you so much for joining in the challenge:


    KL ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  6. bahahaha! Good one!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. willowdot21 says:

    A great story Geoff…
    Do you think she’d make do with Izal💜

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I guessed that those free evening classes in interior design were too good to be true! All part of Boris’ levelling up I suspect.

    Liked by 1 person

    • TanGental says:

      I find the whole notion of our PM with his socio-economic spirit level scouring the country rather disturbing, much like allowing Starmer to take creative writing courses

      Liked by 1 person

  9. JT Twissel says:

    Oh dear, not the medieval loo!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. V.M.Sang says:

    Wonderful story, Geoff. I think I’d have been out the door at the sight of the water-bearing maidens. that suggests no running water, doesn’t it?

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Pingback: #WRITEPHOTO – TOMB by TanGental  – New2Writing

  12. Jemima Pett says:

    I love this. I have some spare TP if she needs it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Pingback: #Writephoto Round-Up – TOMB – New2Writing

Comments are closed.