Gaffers Daughter

It was raining, well it always was in Yorkshire in the 1920s. Sleet maybe, freezing rain.

I was working in the office at Hartley Main pit tallying up the miners tally sheets when gaffer turns up.

“Ee Johnno, it’s parky out there,” gaffer says, as he comes in dripping all over the polished floorboards.

“Aye gaffer,” I agreed, “Makes folk burn more coal and that’s good int’it.”

“Aye,” he agrees, “Has thee got the first aid certificates?” he asked.

“First aid yes,” yes I agreed, “Not a doctor. Why has number three shaft caved in again.”

“No,” he says firmly, “Nowt like that.”

“Good because stuff like amputating arms or even taking out appendices is beyond me,” I reminded him.

“Mithering about Eddie Fawkes again,” he said, “Tha could have had his arm off and let us get on but no thee had to try and save it and cost us half a shift production, and his arm’s still bloody useless, he’ll not play Trombone again.”

“Well I’m not a doctor,” I insisted.

“No well perhaps not but thees’s on salary and doctor’s not so I has a job for thee,” he says.

“And what might that be?” I asked.

“Secret mind, Hypocritical Oaf and all that,” he adds.

“Safe with me,” I says, “What’s up with thee?”

“Not me you cheeky Wazzock,” he says, “Elsie me daughter, she got a sore cunt.”

“What, you need a gynie cologoist,” I insisted.

“I ent paying fancy prices,” He says, “I want’s you to have a look and if it’s bad I’ll get a proper doctor, now think on, jobs ent easy to come by especially cushy ones in a nice warm , dry, office.”

“Fair enough,” I says, “When shall I see her?”

He pops his head out of door and bellows “Elsie.”

Half a minute later she rushed in like a drowned rat, her wide brimmed hat and brown raincoat dripping water everywhere.

“Here she is apple of me eye,” he says.

“Look there’s nowt wrong that a course of Dr Pepards patent cordial won’t put right.” She insisted.

“She’s got a sore cunt, she keeps rubbing it it’s embarrassing,” he says, “Have a look lad see what what.”

“I suppose we should go somewhere private?” I suggested

“Sod that, I ent having you giving her one on the sly,” Gaffer says.

“Oh sod off father,” Elsie says and she messed up all me tally sheets and made a space so she could sit on my desk.

She hauled down her canvass pants and sat there with her legs wide so I could see up her twat.

I had a look but it was dark under her skirt, “Anyone got a lamp?”

“Course I bloody haven’t,” he snapped, “Strike a match.”

“What we could blow the office up if she farts,” I explained.

“Lie back and lift thee skirts let the lad have a look see,” Gaffer said

She did as bid and I had a look, “Can you hold the lips apart I can’t see,” I suggested

She did as I said and could see her maidenhead was long gone, a great cavern yawned, I was quite surprised she didn’t have any pit props down it it yawned so wide.”

“Bleeding hell that’s one hell of a rash,” I said, “Who’s thee been fucking cause that looks like clap to me not that I’m and expert, or maybe Nettle rash?”

“I ent fucked no one,” she whined.

“You sure,” Gaffer said,

“No, nobody,” she protested.

“You ent had a Donkey or Dog or summat has thee?” Gaffer asked, “There was a tart down Abattoir road used to fuck a Donkey round behind the Dog and Duck when she’s had a few.”

“No father, not a Donkey or an eel or snake or anything else except,” she paused.

“Yes?” Gaffer and I asked together.

“Me Carrot, or a little Marrow.” she admitted.

“Me Dad used to get a rash off of Marrows,” I remembered

“Your dad,” Gaffer asked “What’s that got to do with price of fish?”

“Made his hands bad,” I said,” Might be the same.”

“Hear that our Elsie stop wanking with Marrows and see if it clears up,” Gaffer says

“‘ent you got no ointment nor nothing, it itches like hell,” Elsie said and she stuck three fingers up herself to get some relief.