Many a new tune

Many a new tune...

7.15. Beethoven's Fifth alarm brought Ronald Simkins to full alertness.
As usual, he had remained in semi-consciousness for several minutes
waiting for the tones that would signal his involvement in another day.
He sat up and adjusted his pale blue paisley pyjamas that were buttoned
to the neck. He smoothed out the wrinkles in each arm, threw back the
covers and stepped smartly into his tartan slippers. He fumbled round
on the bedside table until he found his thick, horn-rimmed spectacles.
With these in place, the day took on a brighter dimension and Ronald
was soon reaching for his brown and cream striped, crimplene dressing
gown. This stood guard like a friendly sentry, hanging to attention on
the bedroom door.
His early morning routine never varied except for the breathing and
stretching exercises, new additions to the Simkins' regimen. They
usually took place when Ronald had carefully wrapped his dressing gown
around him and securely knotted the cord. Occasionally, when feeling
particularly brave, Ronald would go through the routine with the
dressing gown still hanging on the door and the top button of his
pyjamas undone.
The regular routine continued as he showered (always wash elbows,
knees and behind the ears), dressed (same order every day) and made his
way downstairs to have his breakfast. This normally consisted of All
Bran, toast (two slices, wholemeal), marmalade and a pot of tea
although he was flexible enough to consider Corn Flakes and even coffee
(decaffeinated, of course). The preliminaries of the day were,
inevitably finished by 8 o'clock and it was at this time that Ronald
would indulge himself with 15 minutes practice on the viola. He had
first started playing it at the age of 7 and now, 33 years on, he still
practised as diligently and played as enthusiastically as he had done
when he first fell in love with the instrument all those years
ago.
The final ceremony before leaving for work at 8.25 was a quick glance
in the hall mirror to check that the collar of his white shirt was
properly turned down and, more importantly, that the knot in his grey,
woollen tie was correctly positioned. A cream, woollen scarf, camel
hair coat and brown, leather gloves came with the colder weather. The
telescopic umbrella was an all-weather accompaniment.
The journey to work took precisely 14 minutes and the brisk walk
allowed him to 'blow the cobwebs from his brain' and start the working
day with a fresh mind in a fresh body. The fresh mind and body spent
the next 20 minutes checking the previous day's efforts and making
preparations for the tasks ahead. His efficiency and dedication to duty
was almost legendary in the offices of Mount Castle Drummond, Insurance
Brokers. He applied himself unstintingly to his telephone and computer
console. Actually, it is doubtful whether he needed a computer at all.
He took great pride in learning most of the basic quotations for a
fairly large range of prospective customers.
There was no doubt that Ronald took his work very seriously. There
were some in the office who worried that he immersed himself too deeply
in his work. Some thought that it was acute shyness that made him seek
refuge in the work. Others just thought that he was a boring pain in
the bum.
To three people in particular though, Ronald Simkins presented a huge
challenge. Carmen, Michelle and Diana had decided that deep down, under
the staid, stifled shell of respectability, there was a love-crazed,
Valentino bursting with vitality and lust and it was their sworn duty
to release this frustrated hunk from the shackles of respectable
conformity. The task was a difficult one and not made any easier by the
fact that Ronald was completely unmoved by their many gestures of
friendly encouragement.
The challenge of 'saving him from himself' usually began with the
message that they would leave on his computer screen. "I'll takes the
risks if you'll cover me, Ron!" and "Who needs a third party when
you're around! Set me on fire, steal my heart, BIG..BAD..RON!" These
were just some of the saucy suggestions that would greet him when he
switched on. Actually, they were the main reason why he arrived so
early. He could not take the chance of anyone discovering his
embarrassing situation. He was almost certain who the perpetrators were
but he could not be sure that he would be able to handle a
confrontation that was bound to compromise his integrity.
Ronald managed to suffer these small indignities with a certain degree
of calm stoicism but his cool headed composure received a constant
battering that would have left lesser men drooling in surrender and
begging for...more. The tantalising Carmen Maguire was good at
everything she did, she was particularly good at her job and that was
why she was deputy manager. Most of the other men in the office would
have killed for a 'close encounter of any kind' with the lovely Carmen
- but not Ronald. He remained totally unmoved whenever Carmen would
drape her magnificent body over his shoulder. Her fingers exacted no
response on their journeys of adventure over his neck and chest. He
remained completely unruffled as she played carelessly with his
carefully coiffured hair. Her one major success came when she was able
to stroke his thigh with such devastating effect that a 54-year-old
spinster from Aldershot is now insured to drive a Sherman tank, third
party, fire and theft.
Michelle Wightman, however, managed to have a far more disconcerting
effect on poor Ronald. Michelle was a tall, slim brunette with
beautiful blue eyes and a smile that could melt the coldest heart. Her
desk was immediately in front of Ronald's and she would take great
delight in leaning over it on some pretext or other. Her skirt,
normally minuscule in length, would make the short journey to the top
of her long, supple legs and the breathtaking view of tiny, lace frills
could always be guaranteed to stir Ronald into an embarrassed gasp of a
response: -
"M..M..Miss Wightman, your endowment policy is showing!"
Michelle's response was equally guaranteed. She would flash her legs,
flash her eyes and kill him with a devastating smile.
Diana Spellman employed a far more subtle approach in her seduction.
As the office junior, she was expected to learn as much as possible
from her more experienced colleagues. She took every opportunity to
engage Ronald in studious conversation. She would smile sweetly, and
gaze longingly as he droned on about full risks cover and no claims
bonuses. It is doubtful whether any of Ronald's advice actually had the
slightest impact on Diana but the research she undertook in order to
appear interested gave her an expertise that was unequalled by anyone
in the office, including Ronald. At times, it was the only bright spot
in an otherwise deadly dull encounter.
Ronald certainly seemed to respond to Diana's attentive stimulation
although her body language was about as clear to Ronald as a Chinese
dictionary. Her subtle perfume and overt reactions were totally lost
under the depressing mass of Ronald's technical drivel. The seduction
and conquest of Ronald Simkins was definitely not an easy matter.
Break time gave the girls an opportunity to compare notes and report
on any small victories in their game of seduction. New plans of attack
were carefully worked out and compromising situations were eagerly
contrived. However, the inevitable outcome finally and grudgingly
loomed.
"Girls, I hate to admit it but I don't think Ron's going to fall for
our charms," Carmen conceded.
"I think he must be gay," Michelle decided, "God, he's seen more of my
legs than I have. If my skirt gets any shorter, it'll be a belt!"
"Never mind," Carmen comforted, "perhaps he's not a leg man."
"He's seen most of me! I don't think he's an anything man. I think he's
a robot. No, I'd probably have more luck with a robot."
"Perhaps you ought to wear an insurance policy instead of a skirt,"
Diana suggested, "and computer paper knickers!"
"Oh, thanks, I'm not that desperate. If he wants to be a boring old
faggot, that's up to him."
"Girls, I think we're going to have to try one last team effort. All
out attack and, if that doesn't work, we'll close the file." Carmen's
decision met with general approval. "Now, all we need is the right
opening. Any suggestions?"
They spent the rest of their break trying to come up with an effective
plan that would breach Ron's steadfast defences.
"I bet he bores himself to death. Imagine what he's like at
home."
"That's it!" Carmen jumped up in excitement, "we'll try him out at
home. He'll be more relaxed, more receptive to our charms."
"You won't get past the front door," Diana told her.
"We'll have to think of something that'll really grab him. What's he
interested in?"
"Would you believe - motor insurance and Yehudi Menuhin. If he could
have arranged Yehudi's insurance, I'm sure he would have had
an..."
"Perfect!" Carmen screeched, "it's time we fiddled with our Ron!"

"I'd be delighted to give you a recital," Ron offered proudly. "I
didn't know you ladies were interested in the viola."
"Oh yes, Ronald, we've been fans for years. Actually, we all have
stringed instruments, don't we girls?"
"I doubt whether he'll be interested in our yo-yos," Michelle
whispered.
"Well that's absolutely wonderful," Ron gushed with excitement,
"perhaps we could all play together some time?"
"That's exactly what we've been..er..um..wondering." Michelle covered
her slip with a magnificent smile.
"Splendid idea. So, if you could come around about 8 o'clock, tonight,
that will give me enough time to get ready and perhaps have a quick
practice. Is that all right, ladies?"
Everyone agreed and the rest of the day was spent in delicious, quiet
anticipation.
The girls met, as arranged, at the end of Ronald's road. They gave
themselves plenty of time so that they could go over their plan in
close detail. All three looked stunningly seductive, each one dressed
suitably for the final onslaught. They approached Ronald's house
utterly convinced that he could never resist such a passionate
combination. As they reached the front door, it swung wide open and
there stood Ronald, wearing bow tie, tail coat and..nothing else but a
page of music draped fig-leaf style over his dotted crotchet.
"Ronald, what are you doing?"
"You dirty, old lecher!"
"Oh come on, ladies, this is what you wanted, wasn't it? I thought you
were in to this sort of thing."
"Certainly not, it's really disgusting!" said Diana who surprisingly,
was really disgusted.
"Well, really girls, I may be 40 but there's many a new tune played on
an old fiddle!"
"What's that stuck on your thingy?" asked Michelle who had suddenly
become very interested in the finer points of music.
"It's a piece called 'Autumn Leaves' Stick around and you might see
them fall off!"
"Ronald!"
"There's more than one string to my bow, Michelle. Come on in, we'll
swap G strings!"
"We certainly are not," Carmen informed him. "You ought to be ashamed
of yourself. We came, in all innocence, for a pleasant evening of music
but we're definitely not stopping here for this kind of performance.
You're kinky, Ronald Simkins!"
With that, the three women turned and stormed down the path with
Ronald's final offer still quite audible. "Come on, girls, I'll even
let you play with my maracas!"
The trio finally stopped when they reached the corner of the road.
They slowly regained their composure and eventually saw the funny side
of their latest encounter.
"He's a sly one is our Ron," Carmen decided
"Well, he certainly got us going," Michelle conceded
"I read loads of music books when I went home and I never had a chance
to impress him. I even brought this." Diana held up a small block of
resin.
"What's that for?" Michelle asked
Diana explained, "Violinists use it to rub on their bows. It helps them
to work easier."
Carmen's face broke into a mischievous smile. "Come on, ladies, if Ron
is that keen to get his bow going, I think we should help him rub
it!"