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She Chose Me

By: no_naysayer



My editor knows who she is. Thank you. 

~~~~~

Fading autumn sunset caught the trees as I left the bus. Waited to cross the road, thinking about the last night I'd been with him. Her husband, and my closest friend, Allan. He'd died a few days later, a heart attack in his grim bedsit, during one of their periodic separations. 

I strode across the park, my head in confusion. Our evening would be difficult enough for me, but I couldn't begin to imagine how hard it would be for Betty. She'd told me when she phoned to invite me -- this would be the first time she'd been with anyone but her closest family since Allan's funeral, six months previously. So her dinner invitation to me was a sort of coming-out ceremony. 

My mind wandered as my legs took me down the street with its lovely south-facing sandstone tenements, rich cream now that a century of the city's smoke had been cleaned from them. I hadn't been in her new home before. 

I remembered the reception in the hotel, right after Allan's funeral. Nobody had dared sit beside her, nervous of her sensibilities. I'd taken the empty seat, wanting to be there for her, for their children. 

Then I was at her entry: number fifty-seven. The bell rang and the creaky close door opened to the buzzer. I climbed the three flights of stairs to the top landing where she stood smiling; thrust the bottle of Moet in her hand, kissed her cheek lightly. The faintest scent of patchouli oil. 'Long time no see, Betty. You're looking specially lovely.'

And she was. A formal evening gown; I'd never seen her dressed like this. I was glad I'd decided to wear a suit and silk tie. Even polished my shoes. Her arms tightened round me, then she smiled and took my hand. 'Come away in. It had to be you John...'

I watched as she turned to face me. One of my oldest friends. We'd shared so much together, Betty, Allan and I. And my ex too, before the divorce...

'I'm honoured. But why me?'

'You know why. And... you said you'd bring a CD. For...' her voice hesitated '...for Allan? What is it? May I hear it now?'

My fingers may have slithered unnecessarily on hers as I passed the carefully-wrapped album to her. 'Allan and I bought this together at the concert, the last night I was with him. Neither of us had enough cash to buy it on our own. So, Betty, this is my last memory of him. I've a copy: the original belongs to you.'

She smiled at me, damp-eyed. 'What a beautiful thought. Thanks so much. Put it on, will you, whilst I finish organising dinner? Um, but we'd better have a drop of something first.'

She drew me into the kitchen. Poured two measures of Stolichnaya. She'd even remembered my favourite vodka. I raised my glass to hers. 'Cheers. Here's to a lovely evening.'

I returned to the living-room, put the album on the player. Christy Moore's voice swooped and soared with his guitar. I turned the volume up so she could hear it in the kitchen. Glanced round the room, bathed in the last of the evening sun through the big bay window. Books lined three walls. Everything else understated, except for the curtains. Liberty art-nouveau in iridescent colours, smelling new.

Then I realised what was missing: her children. I returned to the kitchen. 'Betty, um, where're the boys? I knew it was too quiet!'

'Oh, off for a treat. Archie's taken them down the coast for the weekend, he had business in town today.'

'Well! I'm sorry to miss them, but I'm sure they'll have more fun with their uncle.'

Allan's brother Archie was a marine biologist. Nobody better to explore beaches and rock-pools with, for two bright lads. Betty glanced at me, a brief look I might have missed had I not been watching her directly.

'Actually, it was providential he could take them. I... I thought I might feel... well, easier with you... if we were alone.' 

She blushed, face and neck, down to where the modest tops of her breasts rose above the gown. She stepped toward me, tears trickling down her cheeks. 'Oh, so sorry John, I'm afraid I'm not doing this very well. I just meant... I might want to talk to you about things without the boys here... and when you've been here before, I mean in our previous home, you always wound them up so high, they never got to sleep.' 

I took her gently in my arms, kissed her brimming eyes. 'Betty, my dearest friend, hush now. I'm just... err... I feel privileged that you've chosen me, for your first venture back into the social world. Sorry, I'm not doing so well either.'

'I'll be fine man, I'm just finding this a bit awkward. How's your glass? I need more alcohol in me, I'll get better. I hope...'

Her lips feathered mine before she turned to pour the vodkas. I reeled a bit from the brief sensation of her mouth on mine. We'd known each other... what? fifteen years, and had always kissed as friends do. But never on the lips. 

She very deliberately drained the fresh measure down her throat and poured herself another, laughing nervously. 'See? I need Dutch courage for this. Or maybe that should be Russian courage? Sorry.'

I gazed out of the window at the distinctive skyline. She busied herself before the cooker. 'Just need the potatoes to boil, then we can eat. Now, it's time to show you my new home.'

'Yes please... it certainly has beautiful outlooks, front and back.'

She led me through the flat, chatting lightly. A bedroom each for the boys, a spare room, original Victorian bathroom, living room... and she paused before the last door. 'Um, and my private space...'

She took my hand, led me into the room. A heavily-scented world, vases of flowers on every surface, the bed shrouded in what looked like silk covers. William Morris wallpaper on the back wall, several modern oils on the plain surfaces. She glanced up at me shyly, waved vaguely round the room. 'I've been trying to brighten myself up John. This is the first time since I was a student that I've had a room entirely to myself.'

'It's lovely, woman. Somehow just you. Well done for yourself.'

On impulse I bowed my head and kissed her brow, maybe to cover my jitteriness at being admitted to her sanctuary. She looked at me quizzically, turned and left.

I hadn't noticed before, so absorbed had I been in learning this new Betty, but the oak table in the large dining-kitchen was formally laid: white lace tablecloth, crafted placemats, fine cutlery, crystal glasses. I lifted a fork. Hallmarked silver. I'd never seen this stuff before, though I'd dined with Betty and Allan often enough, when they'd been together. Maybe family heirlooms. She'd tell me if she wanted to.

The bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape had been breathing. She filled two large crystal glasses, served the meal. The wine was the perfect accompaniment to her rosemary-scented lamb casserole, and the bottle was empty by the time we finished the food. 'Oatcakes, blue stilton and port to follow... Want it now, or later?'

'How did you know that's my favourite afters? Um, maybe later, you've fair filled me up for now.'

Her finger touched the side of my nose. 'Oh, a lass has ways of learning about her dinner-guest's tastes... So, if the cheese is delayed, maybe the living room now? Coffee?'

The last of the sun was gone, and she knelt to turn the gas fire on. I looked at her books as she returned to organise coffee in the kitchen, noticed a lot of obviously new ones. Asked her about them when she returned with the tray. Her face dimpled as she looked in my eyes. 'Well, you surely didn't think I'd been doing nothing since Allan died? I've really been getting into contemporary writing by way of self-therapy; Kelman and Alasdair Gray. And of course, Liz Lochhead...'

'Of course. Can't keep an old feminist down...'

'Less of the old, John.'

The gentle slap on my cheek didn't hurt, but it served to remind me that my friend was indeed a few years my elder. And in a delicate emotional condition. 'Sorry, Betty...'

Then I remembered. 'Oh, I brought you a wee housewarming, just a sec...'

I returned from the hall with the giftbag. 'I hope this'll help you forgive me. Hardly contemporary, but I hope you'll like it.'

She drew the volume from the bag. Placed it on the table, launched herself at me, her lips firmly on mine. 'Oh John, how did you know?' 

It was the McDonald edition of Burns' 'Merry Muses of Caledonia'. It had taken me a search of the city's many antiquarian booksellers, and a few quid to boot, to secure it for her. 'Because I remember discussing it with Allan and you a few years ago, and noticed your eyes light up when I explained that it was his collection of erotic songs and poems. So when I saw it last week, I immediately thought of you.'

She clung to me as we sat on the settee. I was aware of her breasts pressing my arm. I shuffled and she moved away a wee bit. 'John, it's such a lovely thing to bring to my new home. Maybe you can sing me something from it later?'

I hadn't been expecting that, sipped my coffee to cover my discomfiture. I'd bought it because I knew her love of Burns, and the volume was so hard to come by that I was sure she wouldn't have it. But now I was aware that she might read something more than literary interest into my choice of gift. Singing from it, and the two of us alone? Jesus. No, I couldn't do that. I mumbled. 'Not so sure about singing anything Betty, my voice isn't what it was.'

'Hmmm... maybe we should crack the champagne, to ease your throat?'

Her eyes glowed in mine. She leant over me as she eased herself from the settee. I couldn't avoid a glimpse of her dangling breasts, naked under the gown. Felt my face flushing. Couldn't look in her eyes, but knew hers were on my face. Then mercifully she was gone. I'd adjusted myself and regained something of my composure by the time she returned with the bottle and two flutes. 'You need to do the honours John, I just can't open these things without it squirting all over the place.'

I opened and poured, thankful that the awkward moment between us had passed, and that my hands had something to do for a minute. Our glasses chinked. 'Well, proper champagne, so -- salut, ma chère amie!'

She giggled. 'I warn you John, this stuff goes straight to my head...' She cocked her face shyly, '...but maybe that's just what I need?'

Her silk-encased thigh was against mine. I forced a nervous laugh, shifted myself fractionally away from her. Managed to look in her eyes as I sipped my drink. 'Well, maybe it is... So, apart from work, and the boys, and reading, what else've you been doing with yourself?'

I just managed to bite back 'since Allan died.' She frowned, eyes moistening, eventually raised her face to mine. 'What d'you think, man? Trying to come to terms with my new life...'

The tears began to flow. My arm went round her, drew her to me. My hand stroked her hair. She jolted when a stray finger momentarily touched her ear. She nuzzled into me, whispered. 'And having you here is part of that process. Part of my healing. You know that?' 

For a moment, the intimacy didn't feel right. She was my old friend and comrade. We'd shared many interesting times, she and Allan and I. And my ex-wife, who had also been Betty's close friend. I wanted to comfort her as she struggled to come to terms with her new world. I felt conflicted, I shouldn't be touching her like this, when she was frail and vulnerable. 

But she'd decided to invite me to this re-invention of herself... and Betty was a powerful woman. Had been a feminist since the early sixties, she'd told me. She knew what she was doing. So I allowed myself to relax, and my hand remained in her hair. Stroked her ear again... Part of me knew it was what Betty wanted. Fuck, what I felt and wanted didn't matter, and I was becoming less sure by the second of what they might be. This was about my friend. Her hair ruffled from my breath. For the first time I noticed bits of grey there. 

She whispered 'D'you remember the cottage in the Dales? The summer the two of you gave the boys and me a break? What was the name of the village?'

'Course I remember. Kettlewell.' 

'I felt something then. Between us. Something... well, something sexual. Did you feel it John?'

I racked my brain. It all flooded back. It had been her first separation from Allan, and their boys had been young. The cottage my new wife and I had rented in Wharfedale had lots of room. We'd invited Betty and her sons to join us for a few days, had met them off the train at Skipton. I was the only driver between us, and I'd taken Betty to the pub a couple of times whilst my wife put the boys to bed.

'It's coming back to me. Remember taking the boys up Great Whernside whilst the two of you got pissed in the pub...'

'No! Not that John. Remember when you drove me to the pub, just the two of us?'

I remembered being aware of Betty's sexuality then, though I was only a couple of months married. Remembered the guilt I felt. No way could I tell her that now.

'Yes, I remember. It was all a lovely holiday. Allan moved back with you as soon as you got home, I think?'

'Pretty much. So didn't you feel the connection with me, when we were alone in the pub, and in the car?' She nuzzled closer.

Fuck, was she persistent. I was awkward. And excited now. 'We were close friends Betty. Yes, I enjoyed being with you.'

I had to get up, do something. Anything to be physically apart from her for now. At some stage she'd put Haydn's 'Clock' on the player. The final heartbeat notes faded. I grabbed the book I'd brought her; anything to defer where she seemed to be heading. 'You said earlier you wanted me to sing? Which song?'

'John Anderson'.

Her voice was very assured. It was one of the most explicit songs in the collection. Wrong move, John, I thought. But I'd asked her. Had to sing now. Sipped the Moet, raised the book, flicking pages. 'John Anderson then, for you, Betty...'

I found the key after a few stumbles, and my voice established itself, was fully into the song by the third verse. 

'I'm backit like a salmon I'm breastit like a swan, My wame it is a down-cod My waist ye weel may span. Frae ma top-knot till ma taes, John I'm like the new-fa'n snow. And it's a' for your conveniency John Anderson, my jo.'

~~~~~

There was no fourth verse that evening. Betty lay back on the settee, eyes hooded, slightly glazed. One hand teased her nipples, now prominent through the silk gown. The other was at the valley between her thighs, pressing the fabric into herself. 'You know what I need John. Be my John Anderson, just this once. Release me. I've chosen you... help me find myself, please?'

I gave in. Admitted to myself that I desired this as much as she did. Sighed, dropped the book on the table. Lowered myself beside her, took her in my arms. Buried my face in the soft crook between neck and shoulder. 'I want you Betty. Want to fuck you, for both of us. Sorry, I can't handle what's happening between us. Not sure where I am.'

She rose, took my hand, drew me upright. 'Not sure where I am either John. But...' 

Her hand went behind her back, moved. The gown fell from her shoulders. Tight little tits, pouting nipples. 'You know what I need. Take me.'

My head, my being, spun away from wherever it had been. I knelt to suckle her, this new Betty, this sexual being I'd never allowed myself to acknowledge. Her hands were behind herself again. The garment slid to the floor. Cunt aroma filled my nostrils. My head lowered, my mouth tasted my friend's sex, naked and trimmed below her garter-belt. Once forbidden, but now so right.

She drew me up. Breathed 'We need to christen my bed. I bought it for my new life as a liberated woman. You have to be my first.' Wearing only garter-belt and stockings, she grasped my tie and led me to her room. My arms went round her, drew her nakedness to me. I breathed her sex aroma through the patchouli, and we kissed. I was gentle, careful, respectful at first, but soon lost myself in her moaning passion, my fingers exploring her flesh, learning her; as her trembling hands removed my tie, unbuttoned my shirt. 

I had to know what she needed from me; felt her shiver as my forefinger and thumb tweaked her nipple. Pinched harder to be answered by a groan, and the sensation of her cunt clutching wetly on my upper thigh. I broke the kiss. 'Betty, I didn't bring condoms, I wasn't expecting this...'

'It's okay, I went back on the pill last month.' 

She had my cufflinks undone, the shirt sliding from me.

'But' I whispered, 'I'm single now, and I've been...'

'Shush, I know, you're a randy goat, though an honest one. I anticipated that. Bought condoms. Now, I need what's in here.'

She knelt before me as the suit trousers and briefs slid down my legs, and unlaced my brogues. Her tongue flickered the pulsing head of my hardness. She carefully unclipped and removed the flimsies remaining on her body. Lying back on the bed she stroked herself, her scent filling the room. She reached under the pillow, extracted a condom from its foil. Leaned forward. 'This is my job,' and she sheathed me, fondling as she unrolled the thing, arousing me intensely. 

I gasped as she leaned back again. She wasn't a conventionally pretty woman, and her years and two children showed on a rather careworn face. Our brief holiday several years previously apart, I'd never really considered her as a sexual being, but god, her firm tits, erect nipples yearning for attention... Slightly pouched belly, wantonly spread thighs, sexdew sparkling between pouting labia. She whispered, 'Bet you never guessed at what I was hiding?' I shook my head. 

'You're utterly fucking gorgeous. Tell me what you want Betty. This has to be good for you.' Her fingers went between her labia, teasing herself. Her eyes burned me. 'I want...' face tensing as she pleasured herself, '... I want whatever you want John. Anything.'

My cock jumped. Fuck. I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't that. My face must have given me away. Her thumb was on her clit now, two fingers pumping in her vagina. 'No John, that was the wrong thing for me to say. I know you'll be kind and gentle and loving.' A huge smile illuminated her face as I felt my blush spreading. 'I do want that. But I want more. Want hard and nasty, everything. Including...' she drew her knees up, and a wet finger touched her anus '... including up my bum. I've never had that, and I want it from you. The start of my new life.' She gasped. 'Jesus, I've never spoken to anyone like this before John, not Allan, nobody.' 

I was shaking with need as I watched her eyes. My cock quivered above her. I'd wondered about her invitation this evening, allowed myself sexual fantasies about Betty, for the first time, as the date approached. It had been a conscious decision not to bring condoms. I hadn't wanted her to think... well, that I was interested in having sex with her.

But I hadn't anticipated anything like this, her forwardness, her openness about what she sought. She'd planned to get fucked tonight. She was right of course; if she hadn't been so explicit about what she wanted, I'd have made love to her gently, easing her back into what was now obviously her vibrant sexuality. Well, the hell with that. She wanted 'hard and nasty'... that's what she'd get. I'd never have guessed at the sub in this powerful woman. My voice changed to a growl, 'I promise I'll give you everything you want. Just tell me if I try to take you too far.' 

Fuck, I'd never spoken to any woman like that.

'There can be no... too far. Open me up, take what you need. That's what I want.'

'Jesus... then spread yourself wider woman. I need to taste you properly.' I knelt between her legs, bowed to lick up her thighs. Something so beautiful about the softness of an inflamed woman's inner thighs... her scent became more intense as my face neared the centre of her need. My nose buried itself there suddenly, surrounding me with her sexuality, ohgod the taste and smell of her cunt. Her labia were engorged, spread open, the entry to her vagina a pulsing need, a carnivorous flower seeking prey. It opened and clutched at my probing tongue and my friend, this new sex-being in her, moaned and grasped my head.


She Chose Me



I was in awe of the gothic splendour of the main hall of the Wills Memorial Building. A magnificent place, unfortunately funded by the proceeds of tobacco and, indirectly, the slave trade. We filed out into the bright Bristol sunshine and I was joined by my son, William, whose graduation ceremony I had attended. I shook his hand and congratulated him on his master's degree.

Being a very proud dad, I had to have photographs of him in his ceremonial robes. I moved around to get the sun behind me and managed to snap a few shots before Will's cheerful expression changed.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" he said.

I turned to see a Rolls Royce standing at the side of the road. Its chauffer was arguing with a traffic warden. In front of the roller stood a man of slight build, about five foot ten inches tall with grey hair and piercing blue eyes. At 60 years of age, he was fifteen years older than me and the man I'd least like to find at my son's graduation.

I moved towards him, but Will was ahead of me, striding across the pavement towards the interloper.

"What are you doing here? I don't need you and I don't want you here. Get back in your car and fuck off back to London!"

The man put both his hands in front of him, palms towards William in a conciliatory gesture.

"Relax young man, just calm down. I've seen what I came for, now I need a quick word with your father and I'll leave you to your celebrations."

I put my hand on Will's shoulder. "It's okay Son, I can deal with this. You get off to your champagne reception and make sure you save me a glass."

Will turned and went back to his friends who stood with puzzled looks on their faces. He would obviously have some explaining to do. Most of his mates would know that Will was arguing with Terry Sandford, but few if any would know the reason.

"Is this it, Sandford? No lawyers, no minders, just you?"

"This is it Mr Jennings, just me. I've given up talking to lawyers where you're concerned, it does me no good at all. I just want to talk to you. Just me and you man to man."

"I'm not aware that we have anything left to discuss."

"Please Mr Jennings. I'm not a man who is used to begging but if that's what it takes.... Here, take my card. We'll meet anywhere you choose. We have mutual interests and we need to work out how to go forward."

"I don't need to call you. The Clifton Sausage, 7 p.m., you're buying," I said angrily." I'll book the table, I'm sure your chauffer will find it for you." .

I turned and walked off to join Will in his celebrations.

I hadn't seen Terence Sandford in almost nine years and I'd hoped that I would never see him again.

*****

After only sixteen years of marriage, my darling Vicky was taken from me as a result of cervical cancer. Her death left me devastated, not knowing which way to turn. It had taken a year for the disease to take her from me, yet it still came as a shock when she eventually died. I tried to tell myself that it was an end to her suffering, and that it was better that her battle had not dragged out any longer. However, none of that stopped me wanting to keep her just that little bit longer. Every day I longed to wake up and see her face, even as thin as she'd become.

The days dragged by, and slowly I came back to the land of the living. I had a twelve-year-old son and a daughter of only ten, so falling into a morass of self-pity was not an option. I had some help from Vicky's sister Madeleine, who was with us at the end and stayed for another two weeks. After that my mother did her best, but mum was torn between me and dad, who was himself not well.

No matter how long you live with someone, there are always some surprises when they die. Mine came in the form of a savings account she told me about once when the end was near. She told me to take the death certificate to the bank and I would automatically get access to the account. She didn't tell me that the account contained more than £40,000, enough to pay off the mortgage on our house.

By the first anniversary of Vicky's death, we were starting to get back on our feet. I couldn't face the idea of my children becoming latchkey kids so I quit my job and started working from home as a consultant. Both Will and his sister Zoe did their best to pull their weight around the house and I tried my best to be both mum and dad to them. Our house was filled with love, but we all knew there was someone missing. Every night the words of Sting would come home to me. "The bed's too big without you." he sang and I couldn't hear it without crying.

Almost fifteen months after Vicky's death, the letter arrived. At first I thought it was a sick joke, then I thought it was a scam. It purported to come from, a company of solicitors in London. I studied it, I even showed it to Will. We looked up the solicitors on the Internet and they seemed to be genuine. The wording seemed extremely vague.

Mr. Vaughn Jennings, husband to the late Victoria Jennings. You are invited to ring these offices quoting the reference number above. If you do so, you may learn something to your advantage.

I was mystified. Did Vicky have had another secret account? Neither Will nor I saw any trap in it so I rang the office of Wallace, Wallace & Simkins. As soon as I gave them the reference. I was put through to a Mr. Anthony Johnston.

"Mr. Jennings, you are the husband of the late Victoria Jennings?"

"Yes I am, what has this got to do with Vicky?"

"Are you familiar with the name of Terence Sandford, Mr Jennings?"

"There can't be many people who haven't heard of him, but of course I have. Vicky used to work for him when we lived in Sunbury."

"Thank you, Mr. Jennings, it seems that you are the man we need to talk to. Unfortunately, this is a matter that can't be dealt with over the phone. Could you come into our office so that we can discuss it? We'll pay you full expenses including loss of earnings, irrespective of the outcome."

I realised I couldn't lose so I made an appointment. I arranged for Will and Zoe to go to Mum's in case I was late getting home, and on Wednesday morning I set off for London.

*****

My experience was that solicitors always kept you waiting, much to my surprise, I was shown into Johnston's office as soon as I arrived.

Anthony Johnston was a tall well-built man in his fifties. I sized him up as he came across the room to meet me. I guessed six-foot-two, a little taller than me. Broad shouldered I could imagine him playing rugby in his youth. He had brown eyes, salt & pepper hair , a square jaw with a cleft chin. He was probably the sort of man who had no trouble finding lady friends. He offered his hand and I shook it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Jennings, thank you for coming. Please take a seat."

He guided me towards a chair and returned to his desk.

"Before we start, I must point out that in cases like this, we like to record our interviews." He pointed to a video camera fixed to the ceiling in the corner of his office. "Is that okay with you?"

"Cases like what? I still don't know why I'm here."

"Cases which involve substantial amounts of money, with conditions attached. It helps us prove to our client that we have explained everything correctly. So are you okay with the recording?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Thank you, now let's get down to business. I represent the interests of Mr. Terence Sandford."

"Sandford? I'd have thought with his money he'd get the senior partner on his case. Mr. Wallace at least."

"Both the Wallaces are long since dead I'm afraid. I am the senior partner. Now, if I may continue?"

I nodded for him to continue.

"As you may have read in the papers, Mr. Sandford recently lost his two sons in a boating accident in Acapulco. This means your wife's children are his sole surviving blood relations."

"What are you talking about? My wife's children? You mean my children, my William and my Zoe. My children ... nothing to do with Sandford." I was starting to get irritated.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry Mr. Jennings. Mr. Sandford said that you were aware of the situation."

I got out of the chair and leaned across the desk. We were almost nose to nose when I spoke.

"Just what situation would that be, you slimy piece of shit? What are you trying to say about my wife?"

I had to give him credit for the fact that he never backed away. He remained remarkably cool, but then it wasn't his wife that was being insulted.

"Will you please sit down, Mr Jennings and I'll do my best to explain." I fell back into the chair and let him continue. "Mr. Sandford has sworn an affidavit to the effect that for the last two and a half years of her employment, he and your wife carried on a sexual relationship. He thought you knew and that was why you moved to Somerset."

"Mr. Johnston, I'm trying to stay calm here, but if you continue to cast aspersions on my wife's character, I won't be responsible for my actions. Now can you get to the point of why you've got me here."

"I'm trying to do that, Mr. Jennings. Had I known that you were unaware of all this, I would have been better prepared. To get to the point, Mr. Sandford alleges that both William and Zoe are his biological children. He believed that it was quite right for the children should be with their mother. Now Mrs. Jennings has passed, he feels that as their biological father, he is best placed to care for them."

"NO!" I shouted. I slammed my fist down on Johnston's desk so hard that his pens leapt off the desk. I got out of the chair and started pacing up and down in the office.

"He can't do this. Look I'm sorry about his boys. I know how it feels to lose a loved one, but just because he's lost his family doesn't mean he can steal mine."

I was losing it. That's what the pacing was all about, trying to control my aggression.

"How is any of this supposed to be to my advantage? Just tell me that."

"I'm coming to that, Mr. Jennings. Mr. Sandford appreciates the way you have cared for his children over the years. As a token of his appreciation, he is prepared to settle on you the sum of £300,000."

"You what? You mean he thinks he can buy my children? Well, tell him fuck off and peddle his lies somewhere else. My children are not for sale."

Johnston tried to stand between me and the door. I pushed him aside. I'd almost reached the door when it opened and I came face to face with him for the first time. Sandford closed the door behind him.

"I should have known better than to send a boy to do a man's job. Just sit down, Johnston and let me deal with this." He turned to face me. "Now listen to me, Jennings, I may not have had the benefit of your education, but even I can count to nine. Neither of those kids was early, they were both spot on time. You can try and fight me on this and end up with nothing, or you can give up now and walk away with three hundred grand."

"You are NOT taking my children. I don't care how much money you've got. I'll fight you every inch of the way."

"Be sensible about this, you know I can give them a much better life ... it's not as if you'll never see them again. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Just fuck off out of my life."

"Look, if it's the money, I can make it a half million."

He couldn't have said a worse thing. I lunged at him, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him towards me.

"I wouldn't sell my kids to you for any amount of money," I shouted. "Now take your money and get out of our lives."

I pushed him away. He stumbled and fell as I stormed out of the office. All the way home I was in complete turmoil. The arrogance of the man amazed me. To think he could step in and buy a family; he must be mad.

As some of the heat went out of my anger, I started to think about what Johnston had said. It couldn't be true. I found the idea of Vicky having an affair for two and a half years, to be totally preposterous. I would have known. I tried to think back to that time in our lives. Were there any telltale signs that Vicky was cheating on me?

The allegations were still whirling through my head when I arrived at Mum's to pick up the children. Will had told her all about the letter so she had to quiz me on the events of the day.

"Well, what did they want? Was it worth your while?"

"It was a waste of time Mum, so no, it wasn't worth my while."

"But they said it would be to your advantage."

"Well, it wasn't." I snapped back at her.

"But the expenses covered your costs?"

"I didn't claim them, alright? Now just leave it, Mum."

"Can't I be concerned for my son without being snapped at?"

"I'm sorry Mum, I guess I'm a bit cheesed off. I'll be okay tomorrow. I hope Will and Zoe haven't been any trouble."

"They're never any trouble. We love having them, you know that."

The talk of the children brought tears to my eyes. I tried hard to disguise it as I gathered up the children's belongings, but I guess there's no fooling your mother. The concerned look she gave me as I left told me I'd been unsuccessful. The children hadn't been in bed long when the phone rang. It was Vicky's sister Madeleine.

"Vaughn, how are you?"

"I'm fine Maddy, how about you?"

"That's not what your mother says. She's worried about you. What happened today, Vaughn?"

"Bloody Sandford, the bloke she used to work for. He claims the kids are his."

There was a silence at the other end of the phone.

"Maddy, are you still there?"

"Yes, sorry Vaughn. Can I come over to talk to you, tomorrow? I've got something for you."

I tried to get more out of her but she was having none of it. I had no option but to wait.

At 10 am the following day, I found Maddy waiting on my doorstep. I invited her in and made some coffee. We sat at the dining room table drinking coffee while I waited for Maddy to produce whatever it was she had to give me.

"Vaughn, you know I love you, don't you. Not in the same way that Vicky did, but enough to want to protect you from things that might hurt you or the children."

"Of course I do Mads. You've been a great help to us over the last year. We're really grateful to you for all you've done. I'm sure Vicky would be pleased."

"Well there was something else she asked me to do that perhaps I should have done a little sooner. Before she died Vicky wrote you a letter. She knew you would be struggling after she'd gone, so she asked me to hold on to it until I thought you could cope. I'm sorry, but I should've given you this before."

She handed me a white envelope. I opened it and took out the letter inside. As I unfolded the letter I caught site of her handwriting and tears came to my eyes. Maddy squeezed my arm as a comforting gesture as I unfolded the letter and started to read.

My Dearest Vee,

If you are reading this, then I am dead and Maddy believes you have recovered. I want to tell you that our years together have been the happiest time of my life. When we married, I fully expected to grow old with you and nothing would have made me happier. Seeing you with Will and Zoe did my heart good and confirmed my belief that you would always be the man I wanted to be with. You were a great support to me right up to the end and that makes what I have to tell you all the more difficult. I'm sad to say that I don't deserve the love you gave me. Had I not died, I would never have revealed my secret, I know how much it will hurt you. Now that I'm not there it is essential for you to know and I want it to come from me and not as a surprise.

For two and a half years prior to our leaving Sunbury, I had an affair with my boss Terence Sandford. It was not just sex, I'm not like that. I did love him, but you must believe, not in the same way I love you. During my time with him I got to see a side of him that others don't . He can be kind and generous and not at all like the ruthless business man he appears to be. We were only together when we were away on business and you were never a part of that. We never spoke of you when we were together and he was never with me when I called you. It was like two separate lives.

In one life, it was fancy restaurants, Versace dresses, Gucci bags and Jimmy Choo shoes. In the other, I had my wonderful man working to build us a future and making me feel special. It started before William was born and I ended it when I returned to work after having Zoe. During that time, his relationship with his wife got worse and when I returned to work, he said he was going to leave her and wanted me to marry him. That was never an option, my love. I chose you and our life together over life with a man more rich and powerful than I have ever known. Please remember that my love. After your anger has died down and you've got over the shock, remember I CHOSE YOU.

Now I come to the really hard part. The part I'm too much of a coward to tell you in person. I think he is the biological father of our children. I really wanted them to be yours, but when their eyes never turned brown I began to have doubts. I've never told him any of this. YOU are their father, the one they love and who has always loved them. It breaks my heart to tell you this; I know how much it will hurt, but you have to know. One day you might need to find blood relatives and I want you to know where to look.

I pray that one day you will be able to forgive me. I'm so sorry and ashamed for what I've done and since we moved down here to Somerset, I've tried to be the wife you deserved. Now I'm being taken from you and perhaps that is my punishment.

I wish a wonderful life for you and our children. You are still a young man and too good a man to be left on his own. I pray you'll find someone who will be a better wife than me.

Goodbye my love, Have a wonderful life and always remember I love you.

Vicky

The tears were running down my cheeks as I finished the letter. Maddy began dabbing at my eyes with a tissue. I read it again and a third time. The tears stopped and I just sat there.

"Vaughn, are you alright?"

I sat with my head in my hands. "So that's it, it's all true.--Why would she do this to me? She gives me two children, knowing someone is waiting to snatch them away from me. How could anyone do that and still claim to love me?"

"She did love you, Vaughn. Writing that letter was the hardest thing she ever had to do."

"And you, you knew. All that sympathy and helping out while all the time you were laughing at the gullible fool. Bringing up another man's children and he doesn't know."

"It wasn't like that. We never laughed at you. She loved you and I was jealous of what you two had together. I didn't know anything until she gave me that letter. She only let me read it so that I could gauge when would be a good time to give it to you."

"Well, that's it then. Just got to sit and wait for him to come for them"

"What do you mean come for them?...Who is going to come for them?"

"Haven't you listened to anything I told you? He's going to take them. Sandford's going to take them from me"

"I don't understand. How can he take them he doesn't even know?"

"Of course he knows. What do you think yesterday was all about? He offered me half a mil if I didn't fight his paternity and custody suit."

"Tell me you didn't accept. Please Vaughn tell me."

"Don't be stupid Mads, of course I didn't accept, but he'll take them anyway. Who would you award custody to? On one side, an unrelated, self-employed consulting engineer with no support network to speak of. On the other, their biological father who can give them anything they want and can pay for any level of support."

"We'll fight him. I'll help you in any way I can. I'm sure we can make the courts see they would be better off with you. Please don't blame Vicky; she didn't expect this to happen. I know how much she loved you."




She Chose Me



"Yeah, doesn't change the fact that she brought all this about."

"Calm down, and we'll make plans to deal with this. The first thing to do is to find a solicitor. We need one that specialises in family law. We can do this Vaughn, really we can."

Like her sister, Maddy was always optimistic. She and her husband, Robert, did their best for me and we nearly pulled it off. Within two weeks of my visit to London I received a summons to take the children to a clinic for paternity test. My solicitor had advised that fighting the test would be a waste of time and money. He was right, of course, fighting at that stage would have made it look like I had something to hide.

After Vicky's letter I thought I was prepared for the result. I was wrong. No matter how often I told myself that the result will go against me I secretly hoped it wouldn't be true. When the results came back all that hope was taken away and I slipped into a deep depression. My, carefully preserved, air of normality disintegrated. If it hadn't been for Maddy, Mum, and the children I would have given up. Maddy realised I couldn't speak about her sister without falling apart, so she volunteered to explain everything to the children.

Will was adamant, there was no way he was leaving me, no matter what happened. Two weeks later that I received a summons to attend the family court for a custody hearing.

*****

The family court is an unusual affair. It has its own special judges and is held in a committee room. Nothing that happens in that room is ever made public and anyone disclosing any of the discussions can be prosecuted for contempt. On the day of our hearing Sandford had two legal representatives, one of whom was Johnston. Social Services and Children's Services were represented along with me and my solicitor. It seemed ridiculous to me then, and it still does, that the two people whose future was to be decided were not allowed to attend. Johnston and his deputy presented their case, that the children should be with their biological father. They outlined all the advantages the children would receive by living with Sandford.

My man told the court that I was the only father they had ever known and that it would be extremely traumatic to take them away from a loving father. I could see from the faces around the table that he was having the desired effect. I began to have real hope. Unfortunately Sandford's team could see the same thing I did. When asked if he had anything to add Johnston stood up and addressed to court.

"The court has been told what a good job Mr Jennings and his wife have made of bringing up the children. This is true and my client is very appreciative. However, that was when there were two parents. Since the death of Mrs Jennings more pressure has been placed on Mr Jennings. Unfortunately Mr Jennings seems to have developed a propensity for violence as a means of dealing with that pressure. I would like to show the court some extracts from a recording of the interview my client and I had with Mr Jennings."

He opened up a file on his laptop and the picture appeared projected onto the back wall of the room.

"This recording of a meeting we had with Mr Jennings to discuss this matter. I made Mr Jennings aware that the meeting was being recorded."

The first scene was me grabbing the front of Johnston's shirt and going head to head with him. Then there was me thumping the desk, jumping up and pacing up and down the office. Finally came the bit with me pushing Sandford in the chest sending him sprawling on the floor."

My solicitor tried to stop me as I sprung to my feet.

"It didn't happen like that. That meeting was a goddamned ambush."

The judge repeatedly told me to sit down and eventually I did.

Johnston continued. "Mr Jennings cannot cope and my client does not feel the children would be safe in his care."

I looked around the table, and realised I'd lost all the ground my solicitor had gained. The panel retired to consider a verdict, but I already knew the outcome. It only took them 30 minutes to decide that within ten days I would hand over my children to the Social Services who would in turn take them to Sandford. There can be no appeal against the decision of a family court so all I could do was to make the most of the time we had together.

*****

Will wanted to run away so he wouldn't be there to be collected, but I pointed out that would result in me being jailed for contempt. On the day of their collection there were tears all round. As I hugged them both. William stepped back and looked at me.

"He will never be my father. As soon as I can I'll be back. I love you Dad."

Zoe kissed me and assured me she loved me and would do whatever it took to get back home.

After they'd gone I looked around the house, she was still there. Vicky had family pictures everywhere and she seemed to be in all of them. Not surprising really, I took most of them. I thought about cutting her out of them but only for a second. Will might understand, but Zoe certainly wouldn't.

The court ordered Sandford to make provision for visiting but I couldn't bring myself to follow it up. As things turned out I didn't need to. Within three weeks both of them stood on my doorstep. It seemed that Sandford's idea of caring for and educating them was to send them off to boarding school. Will ran away, went straight to get Zoe and they made their way back home. Of course the police paid us a visit later that day and the following morning Social Services came to take them away again. They were smart kids so the next time they didn't come to me but went to Mum and Dad. We had three days together that time. Following that it was to Maddy and Robert they went to. The police threatened me with a charge of abduction, but as I pointed out, I didn't go and get them and I couldn't stop them coming to me.

When Maddy leaked the story to the press, the Social Services came under a great deal of pressure. They were not allowed to disclose anything that happened in court and so couldn't defend themselves. By the end of the summer term, both children had managed to get back to me four times. All this time my solicitor tried, without success, to get another hearing.

During the summer break Sandford whisked the children off to Mauritius for a holiday. This ruled out any more runaways. They kept in touch by phone and Skype but I missed them terribly. When Will told me he had a plan, I urged him not to do anything stupid or illegal. He just laughed and told me not to worry.

All the efforts made by myself, Maddy and my solicitor, got us nowhere. It came as a surprise when I was summoned to appear before the family court at the beginning of September. My surprise turned to shock when I found out the hearing was not to charge me with contempt, but to reconsider the original verdict. It seemed Social Services thought insufficient emphasis had been placed on what the children wanted. Sandford was only represented by Johnston and he seemed remarkably subdued. We all sat there looking at each other until the judge called the meeting to order. I was under strict instructions from my solicitor, to remain calm. Once the preliminaries were out of the way the judge turned to me.

"Mr Jennings, at the last meeting of this court you demanded sole custody of William and Zoe. Is that still your position?"

"It is Ma'am."

"You would not consider joint custody."

"No Ma'am, it would be too disruptive. Whatever the court decides, it would be best for the children to have only one father. I believe that father should be me."

The Social Services spokesman told the court that during the interviews with the children it became obvious they wanted to stay with me. There actions since the previous court decision underlined that.

The judge turned to Johnston.

"Mr Johnston, during the previous hearing you claimed Mr Jennings had a propensity for violence." She actually read this last phrase from the transcript of the meeting. "Mr Sandford was concerned for the safety of the children if they remained with Mr Jennings. Is that still the case?"

"No Ma'am it is not."

I rocked back in my chair unable to believe what I had just heard.

"Would you care to explain what brought about this change of heart?"

"Yes Ma'am, Mr Sandford accepts that both children want to live with Mr Jennings and he doesn't believe they would feel that way if he were violent towards them. He suggested we give the entire recording, of the meeting to a psychologist for evaluation. The court has a copy of the psychologists report. In short Ma'am, the report concludes that Mr Jennings had no idea his wife had an affair with my client or that the children were a result of the affair. The psychologist is of the opinion that Mr Jennings was in a state of shock and his reactions were those of a man defending his family."

"Are you saying you wilfully mislead the court?"

"We did not try to mislead the court, Ma'am. However, we do believe we were guilty of misinterpreting Mr Jennings reaction."

My solicitor looked at me with a huge grin on his face. I was mystified, everything Johnston said about me was correct but why the sudden change of heart. He'd had no worries about misrepresenting the situation before.

"My client has no objection to Mr Jennings having custody, but demands visitation rights."

The judge turned to me. "Do you agree to this Mr Jennings?"

"No Ma'am, I do not. My children have been badly scarred by the events of the last four months. Being forced to spend time with the man they see as responsible for all of that, is only going to inhibit the healing process." My solicitor was pulling at my arm trying to get my attention. He was mouthing the words "quit while you're winning". I turned back to the judge. "I am prepared to allow visits by Mr Sandford but only at the request of my children."

"Are you saying you'd refuse to accept the children if Mr Sandford is granted access?"

"If Mr Sandford were a reasonable man I would have no problem, Ma'am. However, he has shown himself to be anything but reasonable. His behaviour so far has shown he is a man who is prepared to go to any length to get what he wants. If you grant him access I expect to be back in court every time my arrangements do not fit in with his. My children need stability. Giving Mr Sandford the right to interfere will damage that stability."

The judge looked at Johnston, who just waved her away. She told us she would retire to consult further with Social Services. My solicitor wanted me to change my mind about access. He saw that as a deal breaker. I was confident something had happened to make Sandford change his mind and that lack of access would not be a problem.

The court reconvened an hour later. Once everyone was sitting down, the judge called us back to order. "I have reached a decision." she said. "Despite Mr Jennings unusual attitude to access, I am awarding him sole custody of William and Zoe. Social Services will monitor the situation." She turned to me. "Be warned Mr Jennings. If I ever find out you are preventing your children from visiting Mr Sandford, I will have you back in this court before you know what is happening."

That was nine years ago and I'd not seen anything of Sandford since then. Neither Will nor Zoe had ever expressed any desire to see him. He did send birthday cards and presents for them. He sent Will a cheque for £1,000 for his birthday. I sent it back with a note saying he should send something more appropriate for a 13 year old boy. After that things got better. More sensible gifts arrived and I always made them write thank you notes. Other than gifts and cards he left us alone.

As the years went by, Maddy and Mum worked on me. It wasn't right for the children to grow up with me hating their mother. Maddy kept reminding me that Vicky had the chance of having it all.

"She could have divorced you, taken the children and had a life of luxury. Instead she turned her back on all of that and moved here with you. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

As Zoe got older she started to ask me more about her mother. What was she like when we were young? What did she like to do? It's hard telling a young girl that her mother was a slag, so I gilded the lily a bit. Slowly but surely it had an effect on me. There's a limit to the amount of hate you can carry for a dead person. The good memories started to return and they outweighed the memory of what she had done. Being both mum and dad to a couple of teenagers while trying to earn a living kept me pretty busy. Too busy to worry about people like Terence Sandford.

*****

As I walked through the streets of Clifton I puzzled why would Sandford turn up here and now? Both children were of an age to make all their own decisions. They may not be financially independent but they were independent in every other way. I couldn't see what I had to offer him. I arrived at the restaurant and went in. Once inside I was asked for my name and when I gave it I got another surprise.

"Ah yes Mr Jennings, your guest has arrived, let me take you to your table."

The Clifton Sausage is a small boutique restaurant in Clifton village. It was Will's favourite place specialising, as it did, in his favourite food, sausages. I'd chosen the place because for me it was home ground and I hoped it would make Sandford less than comfortable.

I got straight to the point.

"So Sandford, what's this all about? The children are all grown up now, they make their own decisions. Neither of us can make them do anything, so why are you talking to me and not them?"

"Vaughn, you don't mind me calling you Vaughn do you?"

"Vaughn's fine."

"Thank you, and you can call me Terry." I nodded to him. "Ok Vaughn, what you say is correct, but you can still help me if you choose to. I want to help them Vaughn. I can open doors. I can make sure they want for nothing but I can't make them accept my help."

"Well that makes two of us."

"But you can help. Look Vaughn, I stuffed up big time nine years ago. I tried to treat it like a business deal. I got the best lawyers, made you an offer I thought you couldn't refuse. I won the day but I couldn't make them love me, quite the reverse. Anything they wanted, I gave them, but they still hated me."

"Is that why you caved in?"

"I caved in, as you put it, because of the actions of our son."

"Our son?"

"Well the tests proved that I am his biological father but I accept you are the one they call dad. William brought that home to me with a vengeance."

Our meals arrived and we started to eat. Sandford was surprised that he was really enjoying his meal. He made several appreciative noises as we ate.

"So tell me Terry, what did William do to change your mind?"

"Well, I was happy to let them keep running away. The police would always bring them back. I expected them to change their minds after the holiday. However, when the time came to go back to school, William refused to go. The night before the start of term we had a row about it. I told him. `I'm your father, and you'll do as I say' He looked at me with real hatred in his eyes. `You're not my father. You're just a man who fucked my mother." It was the mention of Victoria in that way that made me slap his face. Just a slap you understand. I just lashed out, and I did it in front of my staff. Will took himself off to his room."

"The next day, the chauffer, who should have been taking them to school, came to find me. He said I should see them before they left for school. I went out to find William had a black eye, so bad he couldn't see out of it. I asked him how he came by it. `You did it.' He said. `everyone saw you.' I swear to you Vaughn, it was an open handed slap I gave him. He'd hurt himself in order to blame it on me. He told me I didn't want to know where Zoe had bruises. He was going to set me up as a child abuser."

"I saw how determined he was and I just knew people would believe him. In a way I was proud of him. He'd beaten me, so I gave in. He got what he wanted. Now I accept it was the right thing for both of them."

"Well, that's something he never told me, sounds like he's more devious than I thought."

"He takes after me in that respect. Like I said, I was proud of him, he knew what he wanted and was prepared to do whatever it took to get it."

We finished our meals still talking about the children. Much to my surprise I found myself warming to the man. I even started to feel a little sorry for him when he told me about the way his marriage had broken up following the death of his sons.

"The divorce cost me an arm and a leg but it was the right thing to do. Without the boys there was nothing left to bind us together. I was still in love with Victoria. Sorry perhaps I shouldn't talk about her, but it wasn't just the boss taking advantage of his P.A. I really did love her, and I thought she loved me."

"She did. She left me a letter. I didn't get it until after I met you in London. She told me all about it."

"She told you I wanted to marry her."

I nodded.

"That's another battle I lost. I really expected you to stay in Sunbury, especially after GKN offered you promotion." My mouth fell open in surprise. "Don't look so shocked Vaughn, I didn't want to lose her. If that meant leaning on a few people to make sure your employer made it almost impossible for you to leave, then so be it. That's why I was convinced you knew about me. Why else would you turn down an offer like that?"

"You won't be surprised to find out that I was tempted. It would have made a big difference to our family but Vicky assured me we could manage and urged me to do what would make me happiest. I guess that had something to do with you also."

Few people had ever seen what I saw that evening, the millionaire industrialist Terence Sandford with tears in his eyes. He used a handkerchief to dry them.

"What do you say I settle up here and we go somewhere and get a proper drink?

I indicated my approval and in five minutes we were walking down the hill to a large pub with a huge terrace at the rear. We went straight through to the garden and bought our pints at the terrace bar. The pub owed much of its popularity to the excellent view of the Clifton Suspension bridge. I love to look at that bridge so I found us a table facing it. I sat with him, both drinking beer now and enjoying the warm evening air.

"You done a good job with them." Sandford said, his speech now reflecting his humble origins. "The kids I mean. My people told me you'd struggle, you being on your own and all. Let him falter , they said. Then when he does you can step in and offer to help. The problem is you didn't falter. William has graduated with first-class honours and Zoe is well on the way. I've got to hand it to you Vaughn."

"It wasn't hard, they're good kids. They made it easy for me. They take after their mother."

"You still miss her don't you."

"Every hour of every day."

"It didn't make any difference, me and her I mean."

"It did for a while. If she'd been alive when I found out it might have been different. It's hard to hate someone who's dead, especially when she's left you two children to bring up. Besides Will has enough hate for both of us."

"I got a bit of that when he was with me. He's not mellowed then?"

"He has, his sister is still working on him. Seeing you today didn't help."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. but if I tried to make an appointment, you would have refused to see me."

"It's nothing personal, but why don't you get to the point. Tell me what you want from me while we are both sober enough to deal with it.."

"OK, I want to talk to them. I don't need your approval for that, but they need to know that it's all right with you. I got it so wrong the last time that they may see talking to me as a betrayal of you. They need you to tell them that you're happy with it, or they won't listen to me. One day they'll both be very rich, but why should they wait until I'm dead when I can help them now. Please Vaughn, I know you want what's best for them, help me do this."




She Chose Me



I sat sipping my beer, gazing at the bridge and thinking about what he'd said. He was right of course, I wanted them to have the best start in life. Why should I stand in the way of the man who could give it to them? Because he fucked my wife, that's why. That was years ago Vaughn, why should your children suffer for the actions of two other people? While this argument was going on in my head, my gaze was fixed on the bridge and his was fixed on me.

"It'll have to be on my terms. I'll talk to them and set up your first meeting, after that it's up to them."

A smile spread across his face. "Whatever you want. This calls for a celebration, finish your beer and I'll get the brandies in."

I don't remember much more about that night. I do remember stumbling out of Sandford's roller and being helped to my front door by the chauffer. He even opened my front door for me when I had difficulty finding the keyhole. I recall the words I said, or should I say slurred, as I left Sandford.

"Now look Terry, I may be pissed but that doesn't mean we're mates. I've said I'll help you an I will, but that doesn't make us mates."

"Nah, course not... I mean I'm an arrogant bastard an...an you're ...a good bloke. That's what you are Vaughn...You are a good bloke. How could we possibly be mates?"

*****

"I've done my best for them." I told her. "I hope it was good enough. I'm sorry about Will. Give him time, I'm sure he'll forgive you, the way I have. I wouldn't have told either of them until much later. But Sandford had to stick his oar in. It was the wrong time for Will.

"I've met him again recently, Sandford that is, but you probably know that already. I'm afraid I got more than a little drunk. If circumstances were different I might even like him. Not now though, I'm always aware that he had a part of you that should have been mine alone."

"I should have known I'd find you here." The voice from behind suddenly made me aware of my daughter's presence. "Sorry I forgot the anniversary. What is it now, eleven years?"

I nodded. I was on my knees tending the grave and as I looked up at her she looked so much like her mother that it brought tears to my eyes.

"She can't hear you Daddy. She's gone, you have to accept that."

"I do, but it helps me to talk to her. How did it go with Sandford last night? You talked to him, got a few things straightened out?"

"I suppose so. To tell the truth it was all a bit weird. He tried really hard. He has a certain charm. He was extremely complimentary about you, which was a good job really. Will would have decked him if he'd said anything bad."

"But you got everything sorted out? You know where you stand with each other?"

"Yes, I think so. I told him he can give up any thoughts of leading me down the aisle. That right belongs to my daddy. My children will never call him Grandpa. Will still doesn't like him, but he won't shut him out. We agreed that he could be like an uncle. I think that's about as close as we are comfortable with."

I stood up and hugged her and she kissed my cheek.

"Now Daddy dear, we've done something you wanted. You must do something we want."

"OK, what do you want me to do?"

"Move on Dad. Mum's been gone for eleven years now and our house still looks the same. If you ever took a date back here, all she'd see are family pictures And a house that hasn't changed in the last eleven years. It wouldn't really tell her there was any future in a relationship with you. You don't have to forget about her, just make room for someone else. It's such a waste, lots of good women are longing for a man like you. Give them a chance, it's not right for you to be alone."

It brought tears to my eyes hearing my daughter speak about me this way.

"You make it sound like I've set up some sort of shrine, and it's not like that at all. I hated what your mother did but it was important that you had a positive image of her. Talking to you about the good times made me realise that the ten years I had with her after the affair were worth a lot more than th etime I was sharing her with Sandford. So yes I forgave her. As you two grew up and I was on my own more and more, I really missed her. This is the time we'd planned for. I started coming here to talk to her. As for the house, I'm a man, we don't take much notice of our surroundings."

I'd never really considered other women as they were growing up. Working at home, I never met a lot of people. When the chidren were young I had no time for a social life. As they got older I used my spare time to get more work done. I had been out with a fewfriends of friends, but nothing that was ever going anywhere. Maybe Zoe was right.

"OK, I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

"Good, I'm going home now to start planning a complete redecoration of the house, starting with those photos." She put her hand on my chest. "She'll always be right there, you don't need her all over the house."

She kissed my cheek, turned and walked away. I watched her go and realised she was right, as long as she was around I'd never want for a reminder of her mother. I got back to work, picking up leaves and bits of paper, pulling up weeds from the gravel, and changing the flowers for fresh ones.

I looked at the gravestone. "Beloved Wife and Mother" it said, and beneath was the epitaph, "SHE CHOSE US." I was about to leave when a soft voice came from behind me.

"Does it get easier?" she asked.

I turned and saw a woman in her mid-thirties. She was tall and slim with auburn hair down to her shoulders and green eyes. I was lost for words as I feasted my eyes upon her.

"I'm sorry." She said. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I've often seen you here when I come to visit my husband. I don't suppose you've noticed me."

"I certainly have, but I didn't want to intrude on your grief."

"You mean like I just did."

"Oh no! No, you haven't. I was just about to leave."

"Well, like I said, I've seen you here a lot and your Victoria has been gone a lot longer than my David. I just wondered how you coped. People tell me it gets easier with time. Is it true?"

I looked down at my wife's grave then back to lovely woman before me.

"Would it be awfully forward of me if I asked you to join me for a cup of coffee? I know a place within walking distance of here, where they sell the best coffee in the county, roasted on the premises."

"You mean the place in Station Road? Yes, I'd like that very much."

As we walked she told me her name was Jacqueline and her husband was killed in a road accident, having fallen asleep at the wheel. I told her about Vicky and her gradual decline. By the time we reached the coffee shop, all the awkwardness had gone. We ordered and sat down to talk.

"You obviously still miss Vicky. Tell me, what do you find the hardest part to deal with?"

"The empty bed." I said almost without thinking. I looked at her and suddenly realised how that would sound. "Oh I don't mean the sex, though of course I do miss that."

She smiled at me. "You mean the looking across the bed and not having someone smile back at you. You mean not having someone there to reach out and touch. I miss having that big, broad back to snuggle up to when I'm feeling small and insignificant."

"Yes, that's it exactly."

"Me too. It's not about sex, a woman can get sex any time she wants it. I've heard some of the young men in the office talking. 'Jackie must be gagging for it by now' they say, but the truth is I'm not. Plenty of men try it on, even the married ones. I like sex as much as the next woman. Making love to my David took me to places I never knew existed. It wasn't just the sexual excitement, it was being with him. Unless you've been there you can't understand, I'm half a person without him. Is that how you feel Vaughn? Does it get better?"

"Yes and yes. That's exactly how I feel, and yes, it gets better, but not much. I was been lucky I had my children to take care of. Until recently, that's taken my mind off of it, but the hole in my life is still there."

She looked at her watch. "Goodness, is that the time? I must dash. It's been lovely talking to you."

I passed her a business card. "Here is my number, call me anytime you want to talk."

She took the card and wrote her own number on the back and passed it back to me. "I was brought up to believe the man should make the first move." With that she got up and left.

The barista and owner of the shop came over to collect the cups. "I'm surprised you two haven't met before. She comes in a couple of times a week, always on her own."

I watched her walk away, pulled out my phone and sent a text.

Maybe two halves can fit together. Have dinner with me tonight.

I saw her stop and pull her phone from her pocket. She looked at the phone, looked back at the coffee shop. She did something with the phone then turned and continued walking. Moments later my phone chirped to indicate an incoming text.

Call me, and ask me properly.

*****

Many things have happened in the years since Will's graduation. My consultancy business acquired a large number of high-profile clients and I had to start looking for more staff. Will has moved to Cambridge after he got a bursary to study for a PhD. Zoe starts her final year at university and has already been offered a place on a Voluntary Service Overseas project, along with a young man she seems to talk about a lot.

That will leave myself and my new wife on our own in the house. Yes, I married Jacqueline and even that wasn't without surprises.

Two weeks before the wedding, the travel agent rang to say that the villa in Menorca that I had booked for our honeymoon was no longer available. However, as their one millionth customer, I had won three weeks, all expenses covered, in a luxury resort in Mauritius with first-class air travel. They even threw in £1,000 spending money.

On the flight home I was sitting back sipping the complimentary champagne while Jackie played with her iPad.

"Vaughn, it was Travellers Choice that paid for all of this, wasn't it?"

"That's the name of the agent I made the original booking with, so I guess so. Why?"

"You'll never guess who owns it."

"Let's see, it can't be Branson or it would be called Virgin. It must be someone we've both heard of or you wouldn't ask me to guess. So the most likely person would be Terence Sandford."

"That's not fair, I expected a lot more guesses than that. After all, his companies are not renowned for throwing their money around. How did you know?"

"Call it inspired guesswork."

She put her head on my arm. "I call it being very clever. I'm so glad I chose you."

"What do you mean? You chose me. Didn't I have any say in the matter?"

"Nope, women always choose, men just make themselves available and show what they've got to offer. It's the same throughout nature. The female always chooses and I chose you."

"In that case, I'm highly honoured."

"So you should be." She giggled.

"Come to think of it, it was probably his idea of a wedding gift. I'm sure Zoe would have told him we were getting married"

"Of course, I forgot that you know him. I wonder why not just give it to you?"

I didn't need to answer, she knew enough to know that I wouldn't have accepted. It annoyed me that he could still get to me, but I had to accept that he was doing his bit to heal the rift.

Jackie reached out, took my hand, pulled it to her and kissed it.

"Vaughn.. I'm thirty five now. Do you think it's too late to try for a baby."

"I don't know, but the trying sounds like a lot of fun."

"You, sir, are a very naughty man," she said as a smile lit up her face.

"Isn't that why you chose me?"

"It may have had something to do with it."



She Chose Me



'Oh... it's been so long John... love this, love your need... fuck me soon...'

I lifted my head, pushing against her hands, gazed in lust at this new Betty. Slid two fingers in her drenched cunt, palm up, as the other hand went to her breasts, 'Soon woman, but this first... I want to watch you orgasm to me.' I masturbated her, probing to find her spot as the other hand worked her nipples, tugging and twisting. But my eyes were on her face, judging her need. She groaned at every twist on her nipples, so my fingers squeezed harder there, and the two digits in her wetness were joined by a third. Her body spasmed and she screamed, her eyes never leaving mine as the orgasm unhinged her. Jesus, and that was just my fingers. She sank back gasping, recovering from the convulsions, smiling her intense pleasure. I grunted 'Draw your knees up. You need fucked.'

Her face momentarily left mine. I watched her mind absorbing the abruptness of my command, till her eyes returned. 'Yes John, that's what I need.' She paused... 'My cunt needs your cock. I need fucked.' Her profound blush suggested that she'd never uttered such words before, but the hands drawing her knees to her tits confirmed her desire. If I'd had my camera I'd have photographed her gaping weeping sex. And the expression on her face. But there was no camera. My cock surged into the offering before it. As the soft tight muscle clutched me into her, her knees went over my shoulders.

Fuck she was tight, so deliciously tight. My remaining rational mind knew her cunt hadn't had cock in it for a long time. Rationality faded as I drove repeatedly into her, watching her as we mated, the face of a woman turned sex-thing, a woman who no longer existed outside the sexual pleasure overwhelming her. I measured myself carefully, seeking release, knowing we were here for the night, but the insistence of her movements drove me on. 'Spunk in me John. God, I wish I could feel your spunk. Take me...'  

I groaned, 'Just about to, god you're all sex...' Grunted as the seed pulsed through me, filled the condom. Her scream had the edge of wildness, her head thrashing from side to side on the pillow... 

I sank on her, sweat pouring from us both. Her muscles twitched around what remained of me for what seemed ages.

'John, you still there?' A silly laugh, 'Hey, it's me.'

My eyes flickered open. Jesus, I'd passed out. 'Sorry,' I mumbled, ashamed. Then I shook my head, looked in her eyes. 'Sorry, that was just so intense... you are the most amazing fuck, woman.'

'You're allowed a little rest. I need a great deal more from you. I've a huge absence of sex to make up for. I think you need a coffee... time for me to slip into handmaid mode.'

Her shelves were full of Atwood. I shivered. She drew the duvet over me and slipped into the briefest nightie. I allowed my eyes to shut again. 

~~~~~

Her lips stirred me from sleep. 'Time for coffee.' She pushed pillows behind us, sat up against the bed-head. I was about to follow her, but her breasts were tempting. I took each nipple in turn in my mouth, sucked, bit, pulled. Relished the expression on her face, the literary reference fresh in my mind. 'So, my new sex explorer... you enjoy sexual pain?'

'I've no experience of it. But what you do excites me, yes. Even when it hurts a little. Maybe...' her eyes wavered in mine, fell, '... maybe especially when it hurts a little.' Her eyes rose again, bored into me. 'I need you to do whatever you want, John. Use me. I crave to know how that feels, for me. Tell me you will, please? Tell me you'll use me?'

This was new territory for me. I'd always enjoyed rough sex, if the woman wanted it too. I'd especially enjoyed being with sexually submissive women. But I'd no experience of women who sought sexual pain. Well, not that I was aware of. All I knew was that her words excited me deeply. That my cock was throbbing again, so soon. My face nuzzled her neck, teeth closed on her ear-lobe. 'I need to use you.' My fingers went to her cunt, sought and pulled at her clit, till she spasmed. 'I'm going to hurt you Betty. I've never done that to a woman before. Well, not intentionally.' 

She lifted my head, kissed me with longing, her fingers on my cock. 'I think you'd better have coffee before we start then. And I brought the vodka, so you can lose all your inhibitions. I want to know the animal in you. Want you to let him out.'

I shuffled up to sit beside her, took the offered vodka and downed it in one. Palmed the glass when she raised the bottle again, her face quizzical. 'No, that's enough. This guy...' my cock twitched in her fingers '... needs to be able to satisfy you. And now handmaid, you're going to tell me why you want it rough, want to be used.'

She sipped coffee, frowning in contemplation. 'I'm really not sure. Partly, I'm deliberately beginning a new life. And I've wondered about sexual submission for a long time. Allan... sorry, must mention this... he treated me as though I was a piece of fine porcelain, to be stroked and treasured. Gentled. Made love to. Well...' she grimaced '...when he was fucking me, and not some floozie. I've always wanted something more. Reading about hard sex has always aroused me. But I've never had it. Allan thought my... interests were... weird. I think they scared him. So, I've never had the opportunity to explore how I might feel, what it might do to me to be... well, to be used sexually.' She had another sip, laid her coffee down carefully, turned to face me, smiling. 'God, John, it's just so wonderful to be able to give voice to my thoughts. That's why I chose you, because we've always been able to talk, to be honest with each other. How do you feel about it?'

'Deeply excited. And um...' I looked her in the eye, kissed her hard, deliberately biting her lower lip, '... more than a bit frightened that I'm so excited. But... I really want to give you what you need. I'm just scared about what it might unleash in me.' 

My cock, red and angry, surged when she drew the duvet back and kissed it. She twisted so she could look at me, my cock-head in her mouth, her nipples lewdly dangling. Raised her face a little. 'I want to unleash you. Consider this a pleasurable experiment between trusting friends. One that won't be repeated. This is a one-off, our mutual losing of inhibitions, using each other as sex-objects.' She bent again to suckle me, but I pulled her up to take her in my arms, crushing her hard to me. I'd seldom been as sexually aroused before.

'I agree to your terms, handmaid. From now until whenever we finish this experiment, we'll explore our needs together. Now, lie over my lap.'

She started at my tone of voice. Crawled naked over me, my cock throbbing at her belly. I felt between her legs. Deliciously damp. Put my fingers to her mouth, and she sucked them. 'Do you know, that's the first time I've ever tasted myself...'

She jerked when my hand struck her arse, and the caring me disappeared. Her being twisted and shuddered, a marionette in my hands, as I thrashed her. Not hard enough to be really painful I thought, my energy focused on her body's reaction to my blows, but enough to mark her buttocks. My cock was jerking at her belly. Fuck I wanted her. Needed in her. She groaned when the blows ceased, 'Jesus... more... give me more...'

When my fingers delved into her she was soaking. I played with her cunt roughly, twisting and tugging at random, hair, labia, clit; as she moaned and squirmed on me, till my hand left her cleft and rose to strike her cunt. She spasmed. Her flood soaked my groin. Then utter stillness, both of us.

I pulled at her shoulders. 'Time for more, handmaid. Your arse needs fucked. Have to get something from the kitchen, don't want to tear you apart. Yet.' 

I returned from the kitchen with the bottle. 'Glad you had extra virgin, handmaid. So appropriate for your arse.' She shuffled to her hands and knees, but I slapped her pouting bum. 'Not like that. At first anyway. Want to see your face as my cock takes your virginity.' I was so excited, I wasn't sure how I'd managed to form the words. She was on her back now, clutching knees to tits. I rammed my cock in her vagina, then withdrew, dripping. Opened the oil, held the mouth of the bottle to her anus, glugged the stuff against it. Worked it into her, then glugged again so her quivering rosebud was dripping with oil. 

Kissed her mouth, slack with desire. Watched her eyes as my cockhead prodded her tightness. She squealed as I pressed against protective muscle. She nodded and obeyed when I told her how to relax her sphincter, and I drove home slowly. Her eyes opened to their widest, face stretching as her anus accommodated me, her mouth open, soundless. Fuck. I rammed in hard and she exhaled an unholy gurgly wail. 'Touch yourself handmaid. Rub your clit as this cock fucks your privacy.'

'Ohgod I never...' and her fingers slid sinuously at her sex.

I lost myself. Just had to get off, to complete this, 'Harder, handmaid, harder, want to watch your orgasm as my cock spurts in your dirty hole.' Her feet slipped to the bed and her pelvis lifted and jutted acceptingly as I reamed her, my old friend become sextoy. I savaged her and her fingers worked faster, hips rising inexorably... 'Now John, now, please, ohfuck ohfuck, NOW...' Her scream filled the room as my genitals voided in her, 'You... dirty... fucking... HANDMAID...' and I collapsed onto her.

~~~~~

Presently she stirred. Whispered, 'Maybe stilton and port now? To celebrate? And give us strength for more...' She turned her head to the clock, '... it's only a bit after ten...' 

~~~~~

If anyone wants it, there may be more to follow. Do let me know.