A difficult conversation...

Willie joins the Humbleby's at their homely hovel for supper. Difficulties ensue as he attempts to explain matters to them of which he has little to no experience of himself...

Wrashleigh-Whyllinge, the Vicar, begins hesitantly. Nervous as he attempts to explain the mysteries of nature to Gillieflower and Albert. His high, reedy voice wavering uncontrollably, his embarrassment exquisite as he starts the difficult task.

'“So about the little talk I promised - it’s about the, well how can I say? It’s the one about the ‘birds and the bees’.

“Oh Vicker, you don’t have to be shy on account of that - I’m a country girl after all and there’s none as’ll push a parsnip past me as that I won’t notice. You’ll not need to tell me about the birds and the bees - I knows all about them.”

Wrashleigh-Whylling gave a sigh of relief. Perhaps he would be excused the challenging chat he had promised so foolishly agreed to counsel the Humblebys with.

“Oh yes Vicker,” Gillieflower nodded towards Albert for his confirmation “The birds and the bees - is nothing that’s not new to us, is it Albert?” Wrashleigh-Whyllinge’s relief was short lasting.

“The Birds and the Bees Vicker here’s the truth of it. Birds is for eating and for eggs, and bees busy buzzing about their business is what they does to earn their honey” she said proudly to have given the Vicker the benefit of her country wisdom. “There you go Vicker, go and munch your mouth around that!”

“Ah, yes Mrs Humbleby and no doubt that’s the truth as well. But it was matters perhaps a bit more ‘intimate’ that I was hoping we might discuss? Lady Wheezewarter has been, shall we say, worried for you?”

“After the bit of bother with my bush you mean?” Gillieflower looked dismayed. “Well, that’s not much of my own doing really, honest Vicker, just it’s me cravings gets the better of me and well, I just can’t resist having a poke and root around underneath - just in case, as it were, just as I wouldn’t want to miss out on finding one, and well, it wouldn’t be good leave it alone under there of a night.”

“Ahh, babies, Mrs Humbleby, that’s exactly what I wanted to discuss. “You see…” Wrashleigh-Whyllinge took a deep breath and felt his buttocks clench as he set about enlightening befuddled Gillieflower and stoic Albert. He closed his eyes, tried to appear confident and knowledgeable and began…

“Well, now, it’s like this. When a man and a woman—”

“You mean a woman like me and a man like my ’dorable Albert?” interrupted Gillieflower eagerly, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Yes,” Wrashleigh-Whyllinge stammered. “A man and a woman such as yourselves, when they are in love, very much in love that is —”

“Oh, like me and Albert, very much in love we are, isn’t that right, Albert?” she interjected excitedly, throwing a fond look at her husband.

“Quite so,” Wrashleigh replied, visibly flustered. “ So very much in love, and when a they build a nest, as it were, and makes certain preparations, nature might—naturally, in its mysterious way—bring about expectations.”

“Oh yes, Vicker!” Gillieflower clapped her hands with enthusiasm, nearly bouncing on her seat. “My Albert and I have had great expectations for years now. Enormous expectations! But I’m afraid to say, nothing much has come of it at all.”

Wrashleigh, now sweating with discomfort dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. His gaze flitted shyly between Gillieflower and Albert as he attempted to regain control of the conversation.

“And in the fullness of time, with all things equal and in season, such expectations may ripen and, well with a certain and special kind of a cuddle….perhaps of a night time.” He paused to draw a shaky breath his cheeks flushed. He poked hesitantly at the dubious-looking bowl of brown stew before him—stringy and gloopy—using the bent prongs of his fork. Coughing and clearing his throat with a croak, he continued in his high, reedy voice now strangulated, “Well now as I’ve said, it’s like this—ahem… when a man and a woman—” He paused, pulling at his collar with one hand and swatting at his forehead with a handkerchief.

“So as I was saying. When they are much in love and have made certain preparations—such as, well, such as building a nest, as it were then —quite naturally and usually, might be inclined in its mysterious way to contrive… in the fullness of time, to come to fruition, and then you might have, well, certain expectations… quite exciting expectations.”

“Oh yes!” burst in Mrs. Humbleby. “Vicker - that’s exactly right, isn’t it Albert? Why, me and my ’dorable Albert, we’ve had ’normous great expectations for years now. We’ve been hoping and ‘specting for years now. And it’s not like we don’t try our best, isn’t that right Albert my ‘dorable, we’ve been trying just the best as we know how for ages, and I’m afraid to say, nothing much has come of it at all.”

Wrashleigh-Whyllinge cleared his throat his face an alarming shade of crimson and completely forgot the gist of the conversation - his imagination running riot. “So, where were we?”

“Expectations - we were at” burst in Mrs Humbleby excitedly, “ginormous great expectations - that’s us isn’t ‘dorable” she swatted Albert on the back. Albert, red faces and head down nodded in agreement. “And a special kind of night time cuddle you were recommending Vicker.”

“Then, well,” continued Wrashleigh, “nature will take its course. And in the fullness of time, with all things equal and in season, such expectations may ripen and bring forth - well, how can I put it - as the good word has it - bring forth a multitude!”

“A multitude?” Gillieflower repeated, astonished almost falling off her chair in agitated delighted joy. “Well Albert, just imagine that! Listen on what Vicker here reckons. She shook her head in excitement, hardly daring to believe it to be true. A multitude…”

“And here’s me” she said with utter amazement - “ and here’s me, hoping with all my heart just for the one!”