Janis Hetherington – Part 12: "Major Ronald"


Major Ron (in tweed jacket) with Janis

Janis Hetherington was the first UK woman in an openly same-sex couple to be artificially inseminated. In this, the 12th part of her exclusive autobiographical series for Biscuit, Janis remembers her friend Major Ronald Ferguson…

Now before you jump to the wrong conclusion and think I’m down to my last serf grinding my special reserve Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee to its perfect granular texture this is NOT a kiss and tell.

There were never any tongue sandwiches but the telling is in sharing exclusively with my Biscotti readers the wonderful truth about Ronald “the good egg”. This does not mean I shall not be exploring our naughtybutnice fun and games, but a decent chap he certainly was. So stuff that up your orifices, all his detractors.

Those who know me in my other guise as the Countess will now be doubly confused by the title my dear friend Ronald bestowed on me… “NANNY”.

Now do not get carried away with your fantasies. It was never that he envisaged me changing nappies or forcing sago puds down his gullet: the simple fact is he considered me a lickle smidgeon of a bully. Those who have graced my presence may well concur that I can be slightly bossy – even a tad shouty – however he loathed the nickname “Countess” having been on fairly intimate terms with many of that real regal bearing… And, as he would say, “would not piss on them in the street if they were alight, Nanny dearest”.

So how has this story telling come about dear-hearts? How indeedy.

There I was staring at a blank page thinking wot can I do for the Biscotties this week that will lift their spirits and take them to orgasmic level three, when blow me if I wasn’t pushed to rifle through my delicate drawers to defend myself over accusations of war mongering. Up popped pics of Ronald in all the various exploits we were involved in since 1990 until he sadly popped his clogs in 2003. No, you heard it right,  “war” …not “whore”, the latter of which I have always owned up to with both legs waving in the air.

You may recall my last article vaguely touched on the horrors of what is happening in the Middle East, especially to the gay ladyes who Ronald knew so well. HOWZAT???? (Ronald was also a cricket fanatic with his own training facilities at his lovely home in Happy Hampshire). Major Ronald ??? He who the media enjoyed crucifying for regularly committing the eighth deadly Sin..THOU SHALT NOT GET FOUND OUT what was he doing straying from a Massage Parlour and what’s it got to with the BI in Biscuit? You may enquire.

As usual I weave this tale like a crumbling Sheherazade fighting to push all this crucial information into my limited columnular inches. Waffle less say you and get to the nitty titty. Let’s trot on (must be a bit horsey with the Major’s role in Prince Charleyboy’s life in mind) and fiddle about with the BI… bitty first.

Now before you get your g-strings in a twist I am not suggesting that Ronald swung both ways. In fact the one thing we had in common was the sheer adoration of woman as they appear in all their glory, shapes and sizes. I have read many of the very informative Biscotti articles with great interest in their revelations of BI and I do believe I qualify for a tiny medal in this department as a ladye who lurves to share her female-on-female body surfing with her nearest and dearest male chums… of course with the voyeuristic knowledge that it is not just turning them on but giving moi the selfish chance of a replay of orgasmic pleasures.

Since “Nanny” has never been one to hide behind her bushel, I am always open with said female lovers that engage in this cream on the cream with… so to speak. Usually giving aliases unless requested to be totally blasély blatant. Biscottis…throw in your suggestions. There must be a suitable noun for one who relishes the knowledge that their lovemaking exploits are being relayed and giving great pleasure in the retelling… “Troubadour” sounds fitting but who knows what gems are itching your able finger tips… A signed booky will be sent to the best! Onwards and upwards, now that is suitably explained.

Dear Ronald was the most excellent of my “ears” to share my shennagins with, so does this constitute a BI relationship? I would like to think so. It was never consummated in the legalities of such legal jargon but we shared a deep commitment to supporting our various causes whilst never losing sight that life is also about smiling whilst being engulfed in the deepest of tragedies.

Major Ron and Princess Di

Major Ron and Princess Di

Which takes us neatly into how Ronald physically appeared in my life. Although unknown to him I was involved in the periphery at the time he was part of a drama in which he was first exposed as a visitor of dubious premises some years before our paths actually crossed. He was known to many of us in the “know” as a scapegoat thrown to “certain” press baron wolves flexing their political power. RONALD WAS NOT THE TARGET THAT DAY AT THE WIGMORE MASSAGE PARLOUR (run by people known to THE COUNTESS) – IT WAS SOMEONE WAY UP IN THE ECHELONS OF POLITICAL CIRCLES THAT WAS THE REAL QUARRY WHILST RONALD WAS MERELY PART OF A LARGE BAGGAGE OF NAMES, SOME NEVER EXPOSED. Of course when we did discuss it after my second meeting with Ronald during the first Gulf War of 1990. He knew the “person” I divulged was the real target and it all made very sad sense to him… Kerchung.!

Gulf war? Those who have followed my stories for Biscuit will know how I became embroiled in running a “secret cell” that was set up to help the ladyes of the Resistance in Kuwait, some of whom had been part of our life in our “open house” in Londinium in the 70/80s.

Ronald was running the Royal County of Berks Polo Club ( financed by the late Bryan Morrison whom I’d bumped into yonks before in my brothel days), having been excused his post at the Guards Polo Club in Windsor after said scandal. Our group The Kuwait and British Women’s Support Group had set up a separate organisation to the established (now keep up here – it is history and now even more important) Kuwait Government led lot who had given no voting rights to the Kuwaiti women of our “circle”. They had very courageously been fighting for them for years. We had our own media contacts that were much more sympathetic to our female cause than the huge male orientated Kuwait/USA run public relations campaign costing millions. Ours was managed on a shoestring run by moi and an ex brothel client with a lickle help from Mr Plod (MI –whatever) who saw us as useful but of course disposable if it all went “pear-shaped”. Now to put you royalists and lovers of the CULT Diana in the pretty picture, this was at the precise moment Princess Di was writing to her lover James Hewitt serving in that very theatre of war… THE GULF. Now does it gel??? POLO… RONALD… HEWITT … CHARLEY BOY?????

Ronald had promised in his sphere as retired Major and promoter of Polo to run a tribute polo match after the war (which was never anything other than “organised”) to raise funds for the forces etc. Having bumped into our chairperson/ladye “Mrs. A” after an arranged “Ladies who Lunch” meeting, Ronald was impressed that our group was all about gutsy females and thought we should promote this embryonic gem of an idea and stage Gulf Polo Day. Since a mere half a million spondulix were concerned WOT a fucking doodle??????????????????? Whhhhhaaat. We were outcasts, pariahs… How to rustle up the ackers??? Some of the detail is in my booky “Love Lies Bleeding” and a brief comment in Ronald’s book “The Galloping Major”. But in reality it was much more complex.

By the time we were able to put on the event (not financed by the British Gov or the Kuwaiti ruling family) Ronald and I had become so close we could indeed exchange my intimacies. I wrote his speech for Gulf Polo Day in which Charley Boy was pitched against Hewitt (a private joke) in the Event. In Ronald’s top pocket was concealed a naughty photo and for those who know my attire you will note I sport a silk “handkerchief” in the top pocket of my bespoke jacket. AHA… Had you fooled! Our wonderful secret was quite luscious and I know Ronald knew when the time was right I would delight others with the revelation that shock horror I sported the knickers of the lover who’d worn them just hours before. They had been scrunched, with all their delicious juices, into a fan shape for him to glance at with suitable satisfaction.

What bliss to share with someone who really understood the delicacy of danger.

If you wish to learn how Ronald and I progressed on to new and exciting adventures, mad car chases down the motorway to Wales after his daughter’s (THE DUCHESS) toe-sucking exposure you will just have to stay glued to BISCUIT… and continue dunking… all will be revealed..

Luved you dear Ronald and I know you’d find this hilarious. And yes, I did wait until the time was right.

Read the rest of Janis’s exclusive series for Biscuit here:

Janis Hetherington, Part 11 – “Fatwa”

Janis Hetherington, Part 10 – “Split personality”

Janis Hetherington, Part 9 – “Eccentricity”

Janis Hetherington, Part 8 – “Polyamorality”

Janis Hetherington, Part 7 – “We still weren’t ‘normal’…”

Janis Hetherington, Part 6 – “The publicity years”

Janis Hetherington, Part 5 – “Meeting Biscuit”

Janis Hetherington, Part 4 – “The custody battle”

Janis Hetherington, Part 3 – “The death”

Janis Hetherington, Part 2 – “Breaking the rules of 70s family life”

Janis Hetherington, Part 1 – “A graphic sexual voyage”


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Janis Hetherington

Outrageously, rebelliously outspoken. Sexually incontinent. Avid supporter of lost causes: ever hopeful they will be transformed, ever fearful that once they are they will become the monsters that trampled them. Janis is the author of "Love Lies Bleeding: Memoirs of a Sexual Revolutionary".

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