Timothy Lea

Confessions of a Travelling Salesman


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      It’s girls and laughs galore from the moment Timmy enrols on the HomeClean Salesman’s Training Course … right through to joining brother-in-law Sidney in selling the Noggett ‘Nuggett’ – the incredible Japanese multi-purpose cleaner.

      Door to door selling with a team of hand-picked Japanese lovelies can’t be bad – or can it?

      Readers of Timmy’s previous amorous adventures will know the answer to that one!

      CONFESSIONS OF A TRAVELLING SALESMAN

      Timothy Lea

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      CONTENTS

       Title Page

       Introduction

       Chapter One

      In which Timmy is enrolled for the HomeClean Salesman’s training course and shares an interesting experience on a vibrating bed with a friendly physiotherapist

       Chapter Two

      In which Timmy goes to Knuttley Hall to learn all about selling and becomes involved in a drinking contest, the prize being Mabel, the very able and available barmaid

       Chapter Three

      In which Timmy goes out on the road with the experienced Arthur Seaton, meets a lady naturist and helps Cheryl Vickers and her mother solve their mutual problems

       Chapter Four

      In which Timmy gets on the right side of a co-operative female demonstrator and parts company with HomeClean after a lady goes to unusual lengths to repair an injury she has done him

       Chapter Five

      In which Sidney introduces Timmy to a remarkable Japanese product and Mr. Ishowi and his two man-hungry nieces, Apple Blossom and Pearl Diver, girls who take Timmy to their hearts and Sidney to the cleaners

       Chapter Six

      In which Timmy finds that the Noggett Nugget leaves a lot to be desired and is entertained by the Daughters of the Cherry Blossom. A party which ends in unseemly violence

       Chapter Seven

      In which Timmy and Sidney go North on a sales tour and into digs with the amorous Mrs. Runcorn and her daughter Rita, and embark on a disastrous first day’s selling

       Chapter Eight

      In which Timmy strikes up a very close acquaintance with Mrs. and Miss Runcorn while Sidney suffers. Also, in which salesman Timmy is surprised on the job and has to hang on for dear life

       Chapter Nine

      In which things go from bad to worse. Sidney tries to sell out and Mr. Ishowi and the Daughters of the Cherry Blossom reveal themselves in their true colours

       Also Available in the Confessions Ebook Series

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      INTRODUCTION

      How did it all start?

      When I was young and in want of cash (which was all the time) I used to trudge round to the local labour exchange during holidays from school and university to sign on for any job that was going – mason’s mate, loader for Speedy Prompt Delivery, part-time postman, etc.

      During our tea and fag breaks (‘Have a go and have a blow’ was the motto) my fellow workers would regale me with stories of the Second World War: ‘Very clean people, the Germans’, or of throwing Irishmen through pub windows (men who had apparently crossed the Irish sea in hard times and were prepared to work for less than the locals). This was interesting, but what really stuck in my mind were the recurring stories of the ‘mate’ or the ‘brother-in-law’. The stories about these men (rarely about the speaker himself) were about being seduced, to put it genteelly, whilst on the job by (it always seemed to be) ‘a posh bird’:

      ‘Oeu-euh. Would you care for a cup of tea?’

      ‘And he was up her like a rat up a drainpipe’

      These stories were prolific. Even one of the – to my eyes – singularly uncharismatic workers had apparently been invited to indulge in carnal capers after a glass of lemonade one hot summer afternoon near Guildford.

      Of course, these stories could all have been make-believe or urban myth, but I couldn’t help thinking, with all this repetition, surely there must be something in them?

      When writing the series, it seemed unrealistic and undemocratic that Timmy’s naive charms should only appeal to upper class women, so I quickly widened his demographic and put him in situations where any attractive member of the fairer sex might cross his path.

      The books were always fun to write and never more so than when they involved Timmy’s family: his Mum, his Dad (prone to nicking weird objects from the lost property office where he worked), his sister Rosie and, perhaps most importantly, his conniving, would be entrepreneur, brother-in-law Sidney Noggett. Sidney was Timmy’s eminence greasy, a disciple of Thatcherism before it had been invented.

      Whatever the truth concerning Timothy Lea’s origins, twenty-seven ‘Confessions’ books and four movies suggest that an awful lot of people share my fascination with the character and his adventures. I am grateful to each and every one of them.

      Christopher Wood aka Timothy Lea

      CHAPTER ONE

      Phew! I will remember that afternoon with the wives of the Old Rottingfestrian Rugby Club if I live to be thirty-two. Talk about knackered! Sidney was coming apart at the seams like a dock-struck banana and I had about as much snap, crackle and pop as a piece of wet confetti. Those women were insatiable, or to put it in another way: that is just what they wanted you to do – put it in another way.

      Of course, it is all very understandable, isn’t it? I mean, if your old man went off every Saturday afternoon and ended up with fifteen other blokes all putting their arms round each other and pushing, you might feel the desire for a bit of a rough and tumble yourself.

      I have a theory that the birds who fancy rugby players go a bundle on all the muscles, but reckon they can put them to better use than chasing a squashed soccer ball round a muddy field. When they find that the chaps still prefer snuggling down with each other amongst the cowpats while they are expected to cut piles of corn beef sandwiches or refill the milk jugs, it is not surprising that they begin to think longingly of a couple of balls dropping lazily between their own uprights.

      This was certainly the case with the Old Rottingfestrian ladies whose speed into the loose mauls would