Free The Wilt Alternative by Tom Sharpe

were jokes in the canteen about inflatable dolls. One of these days he would get his

revenge. Yes, one of these days... He turned back to the burglar with a new sense of purpose.
    On the doorstep of his house in Willington Road Wilt sat staring up at the clouds and

meditating on love and life and the differing impressions he made on people. What had Flint

called him? An infective virus... a human virus of infective... The word recalled Wilt to his own

injury.
    'Might get tetanus or something,' he muttered and fumbled in his pocket for the doorkey. Ten

minutes later, still wearing his jacket but without trousers and pants, Wilt was in the bathroom

soaking his manhood in a toothmug filled with warm water and Dettol when Eva came in.
    'Have you any idea what time it is? It's ' She stopped and stared in horror at the

toothmug.
    'Three o'clock,' said Wilt, trying to steer the conversation back to less controversial

matters, but Eva's interest in the time had vanished.
    What on earth are doing with that thing?' she gasped. Wilt looked down at the toothmug.
    'Well, now that you come to mention it, and despite all circum... circumstantial evidence to

the contrary, I am not... well, actually I am trying to disinfect myself. You see '
    'Disinfect yourself?'
    'Yes... well' said Wilt conscious that there was an element of ambiguity about the

explanation, 'the thing is...'
    'In my toothmug,' shouted Eva. 'You stand there with your thingamajig in my toothmug and admit

you're disinfecting yourself? And who was the woman, or didn't you bother to ask her name?'
    'It wasn't a woman. It was...'
    'Don't tell me. I don't want to know. Mavis was right about you. She said you didn't just walk

home. She said you spent your evenings with some other woman.'
    'It wasn't another woman. It was...'
    'Don't lie to me. To think that after all these years of married life you have to resort to

whores and prostitutes...'
    'It wasn't a whore in that sense,' said Wilt. 'I suppose you could say hips and haws but it's

spelt differently and...'
    'That's right, try to wriggle out of it...'
    'I'm not wriggling out of anything. I got caught in a rosebush...'
    'Is that what they call themselves nowadays? Rosebushes?' Eva stopped and stared at Wilt with

fresh horror.
    'As far as I know they've always called themselves rosebushes,' said Wilt, unaware that Eva's

suspicions had hit a new low. 'I don't see what else you can call them.'
    'Gays? Faggots? How about them for a start?'
    'What?' shouted Wilt, but Eva was not to be stopped.
    'I always knew there was something wrong with you, Henry Wilt,' she bawled, 'and now I know

what. And to think that you come back and use my toothmug to disinfect yourself. How low can you

get?'
    'Listen,' said Wilt, suddenly conscious that his Muse was privy to Eva's appalling innuendos,

'I can prove it was a rose bush. Take a look if you don't believe me.'
    But Eva didn't wait. 'Don't think you're spending another night in my house,' she shouted from

the passage. 'Never again! You can take yourself back to your boyfriend and...'
    'I have had about as much as I can take from you,' yelled Wilt emerging in hot pursuit. He was

brought up short by the sight of Penelope standing wide-eyed in the passage.
    'Oh, shit,' said Wilt and retreated to the bathroom again. Outside he could hear Penelope

sobbing and Eva hysterically pretending to calm her. A bedroom door opened and closed. Wilt sat

on the edge of the bath and cursed. Then he emptied the toothmug down the toilet, dried himself

distractedly on a towel and used the Elastoplast. Finally he squeezed toothpaste on to the

electric toothbrush and was busily brushing his teeth when the bedroom door opened again and Eva

rushed out. 'Henry Wilt, if you're using that toothbrush to...'
    'Once and for all,' yelled Wilt with a mouthful of foam, 'I am sick and tired of your vile

insinuations. I have had a long and tiring day and '
    'I can believe that,'