The rest of the party went smoothly with Megan’s deliciously-roasted meat going down an absolutely treat and everybody, including the three caterers at Mr Castleford’s insistence eating their fill and then some, enjoying every bite! After the first round of carving, the depleted carcass was put back over the coals to continue roasting and Mollie mentioned casually to Doug that he would likely have to do the same with her in two weeks’ time, passing on the instruction as casually as if she were simply going to be away on holiday that weekend and not going to be nothing but a half-eaten carcass waiting for people to let their first helpings go down before coming back for seconds. Given that the guests at her party were mostly going to be teenagers, she was confident that they would all arrive with healthy appetites and that none of her meat would go to waste!

As usual, there were a fair number of enquiries from the guests about the services they offered, with some asking for quotes to cater their own parties, with either the company sourcing the meat or a family member on the menu, and others, especially young women and girls asking what was involved in signing up, how much they paid for meat and whether coming in for an assessment carried any obligation. Although she had been happy to give out her own details at Megan’s Sidney party, Mollie was conscious that she only had two more weeks at the company and that her diary for those weeks was already fairly full. She was happy to keep working right up to the end and was pleased that her boss had promised to count the day she roasted as a full working day when calculating her final salary payment but she did not especially relish the idea of spending the last two weeks of her life doing over-time so gave out company flyers rather than her own business card, with generic contact information so that whoever was on reception that day could assign enquiries to whichever member of the team was available when they came in.

Word had definitely got around that Mollie was going to be on the menu herself the weekend after next, even ‘though Courtney and her family were not among the guests at this particular party, given that she was one of Megan’s friends from school rather than their parents being close, and several people seemed to want to ask her about it. Most questions related to the cooking method, whether it was going to be the same as Megan’s, whether she might take longer to cook as she was taller and how many people she expected to be able to feed. Mollie couldn’t help wondering if the questions should have made her uncomfortable but she was so used to discussing other people as meat, talking about herself the same way hardly seemed like much of a difference. Besides, the questions all seemed to come from a place of genuine intrigue and curiosity and there did not appear to be anything predatory about them.

Once it seemed clear that nobody was going to eat any more, Mollie did as she had done with Timothy’s smaller, leaner carcass and slid what remained of Megan off the pole onto a tarpaulin where she expertly parted out the carcass then bundled up the pieces to take them into the kitchen where, with Mrs Castleford helping, the pair of them chatting happily as they worked, she stripped all the useable meat from the bones, putting a good portion on a plate that went in the fridge for Megan’s parents to enjoy later and the rest into small plastic freezer-boxes that Mrs Castleford intended to send home with all the guests so that they could enjoy Megan sandwiches in the week, make a nice Megan soup, a tasty Megan omlette or maybe serve her daughter’s meat up with some pasta.

The following week was fairly uneventful. Scarlett, the tall brunette, pretty in a bookish kind of way, who Mollie had met at Megan’s Sidney party came in for her assessment and was formally declared as ideal for boiling, being too slim to yield much meat as a roaster. She was of course excited to hear how Megan’s roasting had gone and Mollie happily recounted the story of the day, along with the anecdote about how she’d had to convince Megan to let her skewer her boobs.

“I don’t think I have that problem,” Scarlett had giggled self-effacingly, looking down at her own bare breasts which were the approximate size and shape of an orange cut in half, “do you?”

“I think you’d get away without them, yeah!” Mollie had winked. “Of course, petite ones like yours are actually better for boiling! Big ones tend to float and are really hard to get to cook evenly!” Happy with her assessment, Scarlett had got dressed and left with a pamphlet on good diets for a meat-girl to follow and a promise from Mollie that she would get her connected with a client to enjoy her meat as soon as possible, although she herself would likely not be around to cook her in person.


To be continued...