SAVE ME FROM THESE SEX-MAD WOMEN!
Gardener’s world turned upside down by bunny boilers
WHEN Preston-based freelance horticulturalist Chorlton Wheelie launched his landscape gardening business earlier this year, the jobs came flooding in and he thought he had found his niche. But the unmarried 58-year-old’s dream of using his green fingers to earn an honest living soon turned into a nightmare, after all his female customers set about destroying his reputation with detailed accusations of theft and inappropriate behaviour.
And Chorlton says he knows exactly why his good name has been trashed so convincingly. He told us: “These nympho women are getting their revenge on me because I turned down their sexual advances.”
According to Wheelie, who has lived in Preston all his life except for a 2-year sabbatical in London, an 18-month sabbatical in Durham and a 6-month suspended sabbatical, it’s simply a case of sour grapes from his former customers. “They say Hell hath no fury like a woman spurned,” he said. “And let me tell you, they’re right.”
“I spurned all them birds when they came on to me, and now they are getting their revenge by dragging my good character through the dirt.”
Cold shower
Chorlton’s problems began on his first job. After placing an advert in his local free-ads paper advertising his freelance landscape design, water features and exotic topiary start-up, he was contacted by a prospective customer who wanted a concrete shed base smashing up and taking away. Wheelie gave her a cash quote and the job was his. ‘‘
She asked when I could come round and star t work. I explained that I’d been booked to re-design a box hedge maze at a nearby National Trust proper ty that week, but they’d had to cancel at the last minute, so I could go round and set-to straight away. Ten minutes later, I was stood in her back yard, braying the old concrete with a sledge hammer.
It was hot work, and after I’d been at it for an hour or so, the lady of the house came out with a cup of tea for me. As I necked my cuppa, I eyed her up and down. She was pretty good looking, in a blousy sor t of way, with dyed blonde hair, big tits and long legs. I noticed that she never took her eyes off me, licking her lips and staring at my crotch through my trackie bottoms as I drank my tea.
Eventually she spoke. ‘Braying at that concrete looks like hot work, Chorlton,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you come in the house and have a nice cooling shower?’
‘I’m feeling quite hot myself,’ she continued, licking her lips seductively. ‘I think I might join you in there.’
Now I’ve got nothing against being friendly with my customers, but what this bird was suggesting was strictly out of order, and I lost no time in telling her so. She seemed quite offended, like she wasn’t used to having her sexual advances refused by tradesmen. ‘You’d be well advised to reconsider,’ she told me. ‘Or you might regret it.’
rubble
I turned her down flat again and, with a face like thunder, she stormed back inside while I carried on knacking the concrete until the whole shed base was in bits.
The price I’d quoted on the phone included removal of the rubble, so I chucked the lumps over the neighbours’ wall and it was job done. I’d got the cash up front, so I got in my van and set off home, never giving my customer’s earlier, unwanted sexual advances a second thought.
But when I pulled into my street, I saw there was a police car parked outsid emy house. It didn’t strike me as par ticularly unusual, as the filth often call round on a variety of misunderstandings of one sor t or another. When I got out of my van, one of the pigs approached me and told me I’d been spotted stealing a load of women’s underwear from a washing line at the property I had just left.
He asked me if he could take a look in the back of my van. I told him I had nothing to hide, but I had unfortunately lost the key moments earlier, so him and his colleague popped the back doors with a crow-bar.
What I saw when those van doors swung open made my blood run cold. The busty housewife whose unwanted sexual advances I had earlier spurned had clearly secreted several items of her sexy underwear in there while I was braying her shed base, then called the police to make a false accusation that she had seen me stealing them off the line. Which I hadn’t.
‘I’m feeling quite hot myself,’ she continued, licking her lips seductively. ‘I think I might join you in there.’
pebbles
My blood ran even colder as that bird’s words of warning came back to me: ‘You’d be well advised to reconsider. Or you might regret it.’
At that moment, I suddenly remembered another job I had to go to, and ran off as fast as I could. The filth completely misunderstood the situation and immediately gave chase in their jam sandwich. They caught me a couple of hundred yards down the road when I stopped to get my breath back and have a spew.
I was arrested, taken back to the station and charged with knicker theft. On the advice of my brief, I admitted guilt and accepted a caution, even though I was completely innocent. As I left the station four hours later with my good reputation slightly tarnished, I ruefully reflected that the blonde piece had got her revenge on me, and vowed never to fall victim to sexual blackmail again.
Demolition man
A man with Chorlton’s green fingers and eye for landscape design and garden creation is always in demand, and the very next day, Wheelie found himself in the back garden of a terraced house on the Callon estate, tasked blowtorching a load of weeds and nettles. The house had been empty for the thick end of a year and the yard was like a jungle. The new owners
- a busty redhead and her boyfriend wanted it cleared so they could pave it over to park their caravan on.
I quickly set to my task of clearing the weeds with my paraffin burner. It was hot work, and I was very grateful after half an hour or so when the bird came out with a refreshing can of lager for me. As I stood necking my drink, I looked her up and down. She was good looking, in an obvious sor t of way, with big tits, long legs, and a smashing arse, but she wasn’t really my type. I had took my shir t off, and I could feel her eyeing me up in my sweaty vest, like I was Bruce Willis.
‘I like the way you handle that paraffin burner,’ she said breathily, running her fingers up and down my bicep. ‘You’re clearly very good with your hands. Why don’t you come in the house and show me what else you can do with them?’
barney
I know a chat-up line when I hear one, but I’m a professional. I just wanted to get the gardening job done and head off back home for my tea. She didn’t look too happy when I knocked back her advance, and as I fired up the paraffin burner and set about the next patch of weeds, she slunk moodily back into the house.
To be frank, I didn’t give that bird’s clumsy pass a second thought until I got back home. Once again, there was a police car parked outside my house. ‘Oh no, here we go again,’ I thought to myself.
I was taken back to the station and charged with voyeurism. The woman had told the tit-heads that I’d climbed up a ladder outside the house to spy on her on the toilet. The coppers even had a photograph she’d given them, of me poking my head through the open toilet window.
She had clearly knocked it up with photoshop, because I would swear on my kids’ lives, if I had any, that I never went up that ladder. To be fair, she’d made a good job of faking up the evidence on her computer. The lighting and perspective were very good, and she’d even got reflections in the glass and everything. My brief turned up at the station, and told me that exper tly doctored photographic evidence is very hard to fight in cour t, and the easiest thing would just be to admit it.
Reluctantly, I took his advic e. I also asked for fifteen other cases of voyeurism, which I also didn’t do, to be taken into consideration.
The first two false allegations against Chorlton were just the star t of his troubles. Over the next few weeks, he refused to give in to the sexual whims of even more of his attractive female clients, and found himself accused of
Exposing his genitals, which were accurately described after his accuser somehow obtained his medical records
Breaking into a garage and stealing a lawnmower, which coincidentally matched one he bought from a second-hand shop on his way home that very evening
Taking a large number of “up-skir t” photographs, which his clients had taken themselves and somehow downloaded onto his mobile phone
Oiling the deck
Not surprisingly, the heartless vendetta being conducted by all of Chorlton’s attractive female customers was beginning to have an effect on his business. A booking to re-model Capability Brown’s formal gardens at Chatsworth House and another to makeover the Blue Peter Italian sunken garden were both suddenly cancelled without explanation. However, a slightly smaller job to re-creosote an area of decking behind a council house on one of the estates in Ribbleton went ahead. ‘‘
It was a terrible job, because the bird whose house it was had had a problem with rats. She’d put poison out, and there were now a load of dead ones under her decking, so I had to poke out as many as I could reach with a brush handle before I could start the job. It was a horrible job to do for twenty-five quid, but I needed the money to pay off a fine for something I hadn’t done, and I quickly worked up quite a sweat.
It was a hot day, and when I’d cleared the rats from under about half the decking, the bird came out to do a spot of sunbathing. I took a moment while I was putting some rats in a bin-bag to look her up and down. I suppose a lot of blokes would have found her attractive, what with her blonde hair and fairly big knockers, but she didn’t do a lot for me.
She climbed onto the sunlounger on a bit of the decking I’d already creosoted, laid down on her front and reached round to undo the straps on her bikini top. ‘Excuse me Chorlton,’ she purred seductively. ‘Would you come over here and rub some sun cream into my back?’
She turned round and winked. ‘And when you’ve done that, I’ll turn over and you can do my tits and all.’
charlie
I suppose many men might have been tempted at the prospect of being paid twenty-five quid to spend the afternoon massaging oil into this woman’s shapely knockers, but her invitation frankly left me cold. She simply wasn’t my type. And anyway, I still had a load of decking left to creosote.
After I had passed up on her sexy invitation, despite it being a sunny afternoon, the atmosphere in the garden turn distinctly frosty. In fact, the sexy bird completely ignored me for the rest of the afternoon as I worked away at her decking, and didn’t say a word to me as I picked up my tools and bin-bags of dead rats to leave.
Later that night, there was a knock at the door. It was the police, and they wanted to know if I could help them with their enquiries about a necklace and some rings that had been reported stolen from the house where I’d been working. I told them I couldn’t; despite my extensive criminal record for dishonesty, I’m as honest as the day is long.
But my protestations of innocence fell on deaf ears. They had a warrant, and quickly found the jewellery they were looking for. You could have knocked me down with a feather when the coppers pulled the stolen Tom out of my back pocket.
farnsbarns
I could only imagine that the bird with big tits at the house had set me up as revenge for me spurning her sexual advances. Clearly, she must have planted the jewellery in my trousers when I was bending over to rake rats from under the decking. Even worse, she’d clearly gone to a lot of trouble to frame me, even going so far as to leave big, creosote boot-marks up the stairs and across her bedroom carpet to the dressing table under the window.
She even denied having been sunbathing at all, saying that it was the middle of November, and she had been in town shopping when I broke into her house. Which, as I say, I didn’t.
My brief told me to plead guilty again, as she had also somehow concocted overwhelming fingerprint evidence against me. The true tragedy of the situation is that, if I could only have forced myself to rub a bit of sun-oil into that bird’s back and tits, I would have saved myself an awful lot of bother.
Chorlton’s reputation has been so tarnished by his spurned nympho customers’ vindictive accusations that he has decided to take a break from his gardening business. “I’ve had enough,” he told us. “In fact, this has all been so upsetting for me that I’ve decided to leave the Preston area for eighteen months.”
“Or I might be back in twelve months with good behaviour,” he added.
She was good looking, in obvious sort of way, with big tits, long legs, and a smashing arse, but she wasn’t really my type.