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Hello and welcome back to Behind the Bad Podcast from E4 Victoria. So we are continuing on with An English Madam by Paul Bailey, The Life and Work of Cynthia Payne. Now, I will be doing podcasts whenever I like. I think I kind of don't want to stick to her schedule. Hopefully once a week I will create these. But yeah, that's that's what I'm feeling right now. So we'll see. I definitely want to finish this book um in the coming months. So yeah. Chapter 2. He only wanted sex. Hamilton Payne drank heavily, but not in front of his children. Thanks to his large capacity for alcohol, he was able to walk a straight line back from the pub on Saturday nights. Cynthia could tell when he was drunk though. It was then that he became more than usually wispish, more than usually critical. Under the influence, he discerned new inadequacies in his elder daughter. He was only pleasant when there was a woman around. Cynthia's precipice on sexual matters has its origins in her early observations of her father's behavior. She studied his moods and noted that he was at his least dictorial when he was seeing Jersey Lil regularly. We called her that because she came from Jersey. She was very dark and very attractive, very Spanish looking. Jersey Lil never slept at the flat, but Cynthia guessed eventually that she and Hamilton were lovers. I knew subconsciously that my daddy was in a good mood because he'd been out with her. Jersey Lil wanted to marry Hamilton. I think they would have married, but Dad said it was Melanie's jealousy that stopped them. Jersey Lil was supposed to have said to him Cindy, I can manage. Cindy is no problem. It's Melanie who bothers me. Melanie confessed to Cynthia at Hamilton's funeral in 1979 that she had deeply resented the attention he had paid to Jersey Lil. She had seen Lil hanging on her father's arm in the salon a mere three months after their mother's death. The sight had enraged her. There was another Lil in Hamilton's life, Diamond Lil, was aristocrat, a duchess type of woman, big busted. She too had marriage a mind. Melanie approved of her, unlike Jersey. Diamond did not indulge in tasteless flirting. She treated the widower with a proper circumspection. Hamilton might have married Diamond Lil if she hadn't been wealthy. He needed to be admired for his his prowess as a breadwinner. He took pride in the fact that his was a profitable business. It was imperative that he amass his own wealth. He did not want to be known in the town as Mr Morton. He feared that kind of sarcasm. Diamond Lil Morton had to be transformed into doting Mrs. Payne. While she was richer than him, that transformation was a pipe dream. She wouldn't have worn the trousers. She was quite submissible. I think he was a fool. He should have married her. I met her in 1977 at a Freemason's dinner. Dad was once a worshipful master. He'd lain it on specially. And she said to me, You know, Cynthia, your father's the same to me now as when I first knew him twenty years ago. In other words, he hadn't had sex with her. He enjoyed seeing Jersey and being seen with Diamond. Many of his later troubles might well have been averted had he taken one of them as his wife, especially in the light of Jersey's claim that she could manage Cindy. She must have been the only person among the Payne's acquaintances who didn't consider Cynthia a problem. A persuasive, loving stepmother, a surrogate Betty, would have been capable as Hamilton wasn't of deterring Terence. Hamilton resisted both willing lills, and when neither was available to keep him company, he drank. I was so forthright I used to put boys off. I was so direct I scared them away. Most of the men I fancied were shy. We never even got started. Derek was not put off or scared away. He wasn't backward at coming forward. I'd say he was my first real man. I was ready for it, and he could see I was. He looked like a film star. Oh he was bloody handsome. Derek, who was only a little older than Cynthia, lived with his grandmother, who often went off at weekends to stay with friends or relatives. It was on one such weekend that Derek suggested to Cynthia she should spend Saturday night with him. The prospect thrilled her. I said to my father, I don't know how I got the words out. I'm not coming home tonight. I shall be staying at Pauline's. I can't remember whose name I came up with. It was a girl he knew I knew that I do recall. And you can imagine my relief when he didn't kick off a fuss. He just nodded. I could hardly believe my look. Derek took Cynthia to the Rex ballroom. It was marvelous. Oh, he was gorgeous, with his jet black hair, really swish. As he led me round the floor, I kept thinking, I'm going to lie in your arms tonight. I'm going to wake up beside you in the morning. And of course, the fact that my father hadn't a clue what I was doing, that excited me too. They went back to Derek's grandmother's house, where he was careful to check that the old lady hadn't returned unexpectedly. It was all new. Me spending a night a whole night with a man. Oh, he was bloody vain. He took his time coming into the bedroom. He was sprucing himself up, you see, putting on extra aftershave, I suppose. When he came in, he was wearing yellow pajamas, bright canary yellow pajamas. He was doing all that for me. He stood at the foot of the bed and fixed me straight in the eye. It was the most exciting moment of my life. Derek made love to her. Properly three or four times. I had a boyfriend at last. This is going to be serious, I told myself. I thought he was my ideal man. They were alarmed early on Sunday morning by a loud knocking at the front door. Oh my god, it's my uncle, he said. I'll have to let him in. Oh no, I said. I was terrified. Get under the bed, he said. I did. It was a four poster. I got right under. He handed me my clothes in a heap. Derek tried to act very casual when he heard his uncle let himself in. I don't know why his uncle bothered to knock, because he had his own key to the house. He came upstairs shouting for Derek. He walked into the bedroom and said, I understand you brought a girl home last night. Word spread for the town. It was that kind of place. I could never have opened a brothel there. I would have been told to close it down within the hour. Me? Bring a girl home, Uncle Peter. Whatever gave you that idea? He sounded ever so cool and collected. Derek did from where I was. His uncle had this dog with him, and no sooner was it in the room that the bloody thing started sniffing around me. Sniff sniff, yap, yap, I was scared. The little sod was going to give me away. Derek was lying in bed in his yellow pajamas, all natural like, and there was I on the floor with this dog sniffing one minute, sniffing me one minute and barking at me the next. You just behave yourself while your grandmother's gone, Derek's uncle said. Then off he went with the dog, and not before bloody time. That memorable weekend saw the beginning and end of Cynthia's affair with Derek. It seems likely that Hamilton had a hand in terminating the relationship. The respected businessman probably commanded the youth to stop seeing his daughter. I think my father stopped a lot of boys who wanted to take me out. I was never allowed to grow up naturally. Cynthia was in brief employment with the South Down Bus Company when she was introduced to Terence. Gary, who affected the introduction, was worried about her infatuation with Derek. Terence, he told her, would look after her properly. You couldn't trust boys, especially handsome ones like Derek. They were in the business of breaking hearts. Gary was a kind bloke. I looked upon him as a father. I didn't know then, and neither did he that he'd given me the wrong advice. I used to show him my legs and I'd say Don't I have lovely legs, eh, Gary? And he'd go all red. Grown up as he was, he was another of the shy ones. He could have had his way with me if he'd plucked up the courage. He introduced me to Terry instead. Cynthia showed her legs to others besides the blushing Gary. In the office above the blush station, she raised her skirt for drivers and conductors alike. Most of them were over forty. It gave them a thrill. Me letting them have a glimpse of my knickers. Her flow of dirty talk was now unstoppable, except when she had to answer the telephone and advise South Downs customers about connections and schedules. Her audience grew. The tiny office was crammed throughout the day with men who were curious to see and hear the cheeky seventeen-year-old who lifted her dress when the fit was on her. They all got hard-uns. Oh, I was a dreadful little tease. The upstairs entertainment was brought to a sudden end by the station manager, who had been informed by his secretary of the disgusting going on around the switchboard. She was responsible for me getting the sack. I was a bad influence, she said. The men weren't concentrating. They were behind with their work. It was true. I suppose I can't blame her, thinking back on it. Some of them wouldn't leave the office until I'd given them a quick flash. And they had passengers waiting down below. If I'd stayed with the company, there would have been bloody pandemonium in the depot. Her long affair with Terence began in uneasy circumstances. He tried to get me drinking. Not drunk, just merry. Merry for Terry. Get her drinking and I'll have my oats quicker. Young as I was, I could see that was how his mind was working. But he didn't need to make me drunk. I was willing enough without booze inside me. Anyway, he never succeeded. I only ever had a few. An additional problem at the outset was that Hamilton insisted Cynthia was home and ready for bed by 10.30 at the latest. I was ready for bed, but not in the way my father imagined. By half past ten I was wanting sex. I wasn't going to let that bloody tyrant stop me. So I hit on a brainwave. There was a small garden behind the premises with its own gate which you could enter from the back street. You know what they say. Where there's a garden there's bound to be a shed. Well, we did have a shed, filled with junk. My father was no gardener. He seldom went into it. I started to come home at ten, I would kiss Dad goodnight, and perhaps I'd yawn a bit before going to my room. He didn't suspect a thing. I was that bloody crafty. I'd wait for him to go to sleep, and when I heard him snoring, I'd creep down the stairs and open the garden gate for Terry. Oh it was exciting. Eleven o'clock, midnight, having a lover waiting outside panting for me. I'd already put some blankets and pillows in the shed. I'd sneaked them out one afternoon while Dad was busy in the shop. I made it nice and cozy in there. I've always liked my luxury. A fuck on the bare floorboards didn't appeal to me. To be honest, even at that age, it looked as near to a boudoir as I could make it. I've had Nuki in more comfortable places, but oh, we had some bloody wonderful nights in that shed. On one of those nights, a night that began bloody wonderfully, Terry, in his haste to join Cynthia, forgot to lock the gate behind him. We had this broken paving stone in the garden. I heard someone tread on it. You know, it made a definite noise. Terry and I had just finished. I must have almost ruptured him the way I shot up. Oh God, Terry, he's suspected, I said. He'll kill me if he catches us. The footsteps were coming nearer, and I was shaking with fright. The next thing was the door flung open, and a bloody great big torch was shining on us. I was still thinking it was my father. I mean, I couldn't look, I was so scared. There was Terry with his trousers down and me with my ninety off. You would have had to have been retarded not to know what we'd been doing. Then this voice said, ever so polite it was, I beg your pardon, madame. It was a policeman. He'd been checking all the business properties front and back, and he'd noticed that the garden gate was open. I remember looking up at him saying, Thank God you're not my father. Those were my very words. I think I said it more than once, out of sheer relief. The copper apologized and went out. And we made bloody sure that gate was always locked from that night on. There were consequences to her respectable sister's discredit. Word got round at the police station that Hamilton Payne's daughter had been caught having a bunk up in the garden shed. I don't think my father heard about it. But a few years later, when Melanie announced her engagement to Kevin, a policeman, who was attached to the same station, the subject came up again. He was ribbed about it. The younger coppers asked him if Melanie was as much fun in the shed as Cindy. By that time, I had a really terrible name in the town. He wasn't amused. In fact, he was bloody furious. He said it made things look bad for my sister. Some of the policemen actually thought he was marrying me. That made him even more hot under the collar. He stood up to my father. I loved a man who could do that. Terence was only slightly younger than Hamilton, and therefore couldn't be warned off as Derek had been. I'm going to take Cynthia out tonight, whether you like it or not. That's the way he spoke to him. Don't be stupid, Hamilton. Oh, it was bloody music to my ears hearing him say, Don't be stupid, Hamilton. Terry wasn't handsome like Derek was. He wouldn't have looked anything special in canary yellow pajamas. He had a personality though. He was fairly dominating, which I liked. But he wasn't a bully. Hamilton hated Terrance, and his feelings were reciprocated. Cynthia not surprisingly sided with her lover. Such was the guff between father and daughter, that she dismissed Hamilton's reasonable for once, misgivings as obstreponousness. He doubted that Terence were capable of looking after Cynthia properly, and his doubts were justified. He did his unsubtle best to prevent the middle aged layabout, for so he considered Terence, from making off with his foul mouthed but innocently trusting child. He put his foot down, but Terence Guile ensured that it was stamping on water. He told my father he was acting ridiculous. She's of an age now. She can go if she wants to. Dad had to give in. He looked at Terry and he said to him, Are you prepared to look after her and keep her then? Meaning, of course, that he was washing his hands of us where money was concerned. Are you prepared to support her? Terry answered yes, though I think I remember there was a bit of a wobble in his voice. Right then, she's yours. And Terry's, I was, or so I thought. Terence was still officially married when he appropriated Cynthia. He had no trouble persuading her to leave Hamilton and Melanie. I just needed to get away from home. I didn't feel really loved. I can't tell you how lonely I was. I was taken in by Terry. He came along at the right time and he knew it. He could see the state I was in, and he made the most of it. But it was years before I realized what his game was. That she sees that she was marginally, very marginally, the more stable. Partner in the relationship. She had inherited certain of Hamilton's qualities, she discovered. Chief among them, a concern about being able to pay the rent when it was due. Terence showed no such concern. There were rows, she found herself trying to nag him out of his indolence. Terence drifted from job to job and from pub to pub. Unlike Hamilton, who confined his heavy drinking to the weekends, Terry drank every day. Even when there was nothing in the kitty, he always managed to find enough for whiskey. She noted the difference between the man who boasted about his achievements, to his cronies in the saloon bar, and the wretch who whined with self-pity in the dingy rooms they shared together. He didn't keep for me at all. He didn't know how Cynthia went out to work, as his total lack of application to anything other than his own comfort became more manifest. So too did her worry about getting into debt. She heard herself lecturing her middle-aged lover. It seemed astonishing, but a girl who was not yet eighteen was reminding a man in his forties where his responsibilities lay. He told me I was impossible to live with. He said I was a Tartar, a bloody little Tartar. Well, somebody had to show some determination, and I suppose it was me. According to Terence, the affair broke up because Cynthia had to have her own way too much. It wasn't that. It wasn't that at all. I sensed that he only wanted sex. He only wanted to fuck me, frankly. It took a whole year with him for me to find that out, and even then I needed to believe it wasn't true. Even after we'd separated, I went on hoping that he really loved me. I told him not so long ago when he had the bloody nerve to remind me how impossible I was, what a lucky bugger he'd been. There aren't many men over forty who can honestly say that they're knocking off a lovely young girl. And for nothing too. Most older men have to pay through the nose for teenage crumpet. I told him, but you got me for sweet Fanny Adams. You never had to reach into your pocket. I said, You was bloody lucky. I mean, I was seventeen. I was practically a virgin. And there was him with his marriage on the rocks and no future to speak of. You ought to show me some bloody gratitude, I said. Following the separation, Cynthia still saw Terence intermittently. They had sex on each occasion. I was always sort of running after him. I thought I was to blame, you see. I didn't realize that I was too good for him. I do denigrate myself, and I thought I wasn't good enough. That Terry was right and I was wrong. So I was always running after him, trying to get him back because he was all I had. I realize now that I was the one who was precious, not him. I didn't think enough of myself. My father had downed me all my life. I honestly thought I was nothing. Now that is chapter two. I hope you guys enjoyed this episode. And I will see you next week for another one. If you guys enjoyed Bay Nevada Podcast, then please leave us a review. And if you want to hear about any of the books or any other topics, then please give us a message. This has been Pulse and Victoria. Bye!