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A Christmas Play

By: Starlight



Chapter 1: Seen at the Play.

It was at the school Christmas play I first saw her. Quite what it was that drew my attention to her wasn’t clear. She was attractive but no more attractive than a lot of other young mothers present that evening. 

She was on the other side of the school drama room from where I was sitting, and I tried to define what it was that made me keep glancing across at her. There was a remoteness, an austere quality combined with an aura of sadness about her. I felt that any attempt to speak to her might meet with a rebuff.

Gina Wallace was sitting next to me and I turned to her and asked, “Who is that woman sitting over there in the red dress?”

Gina looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then grinned. “Fancy her do you, Derek? I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. Don’t you recognise her, that’s Aine Thorogood; her picture was in all the papers three or four years ago.”

The name was familiar but I still could not put it in context. 

I gave Gina a questioning look and she went on; “You know, she killed her husband with a kitchen knife. At her trial it was said he was a sadomasochist. Led her a hell of a life so they say. Must have got too much for her so she grabbed the knife and stuck it into him. In the end she got off with manslaughter and received a fairly light sentence. She got out about a month ago after serving a couple of years. Good behaviour I suppose.”

I looked across at Aine Thorogood again, asking, “What’s she doing here?”

“Come to see her son, Jamie I expect. He’s playing Joseph, poor little devil. When she went to jail he was only four and hers took him. I’m told they won’t hand him back now. They are claiming she’s an unfit mother and she should have been given life for murdering their dear son. That’s about all I know.”

I’d heard about Jamie because my daughter, Samantha, was playing Mary, and she had informed me she “wuved” (loved) Jamie because he shared his chocolate with her. I had not made the connection between Jamie and his husband killing mother.

Samantha, or “Sam” as she is generally known, might also be described as a “poor little devil.” Four months before the night of the play Gloria, my wife, had walked out on us. She gave as her reason that she “needed her own space.” Her “own space” proved to be a senior executive in the company she worked for. 

One of her colleagues who sympathised with my position told me that the executive had suggested he could advance Gloria’s career if she would, as my informant put it, “Come across.” She duly came across, leaving me to cope with Sam. 

Not that Sam was a great burden. She’s a sweet child and much beloved were I am concerned. When Gloria departed the situation remained much the same as it had been from quite soon after her birth,  in the sense that little Sam had spent most of her time being looked after by my mother and father, while Gloria and I went to work during the day.

The man that Gloria was now living with had left a wife and three children, but at least she had been a full time mother. I sometimes wondered how she was coping.

Since departing neither Sam nor I had seen anything of Gloria. “So much for a devoted mother,” I often thought, but then, Gloria had not really wanted Sam in the first place. She had been more concerned with her career than child rearing. I suppose I was the one to blame in that I had wanted us to have a child. So, now I had a child, and was trying to be both father and mother to her.

I was still looking across at Aine when she glanced at me. For a few seconds I was riveted by two large dark eyes. From where I was sitting they gave the impression of being black and conveyed a deep sadness. I looked away as Gina nudged me in the ribs and hissed, “It’s starting.”

The lights came up on the little stage, and we began to wade our way through a group of five and six year olds presenting their teacher’s version of the Christmas story. There was much prompting and pushing onto the stage. 

The baby Jesus, a doll, got entangled in Joseph’s robe, shepherds dropped crooks and one of the wise men announced he had brought his gift of “Frank’s sense,” and another that he had brought “Ma.” The bringer of gold got it right. At the end we parents clapped heartily as our exultant offspring bowed to us.

As is common on such occasions, the school Principal made a very long and boring speech, praising the children, the teacher, the school and herself, all this while the miniature thespians were still on the stage. 

Then it was refreshment time and cuddles for Sam as I told her, “You were wonderful, darling.” Then I had to meet Jamie, her stage husband, because “I wuv him daddy.”

Jamie proved to be a surprisingly mature six year old who shook hands solemnly with me and said, “Nice to meet you, Mr.Sam.” Actually it’s “Mack,” but clearly Sam was the dominant name for him. The boy had the same large, dark eyes as his mother, and the hint of sadness.

While Sam and Jamie plastered their faces with sponge cake, I looked around for Jamie’s mother, but she was nowhere in sight. Eventually a woman approached and said, “We’ve got to go now, Jamie.” She turned out to be the mother of an angel whose wings had wilted during the performance. She had made herself responsible for bringing Jamie and taking him home. She informed me that his grandparents would be coming to see the second performance the following night.

So, while she basked in her fame, I drove a sleepy Sam home as she leaned against me in the car smearing residual sponge cake down the arm of my coat.

“Isn’t Jamie nice, daddy?” She sighed rapturously as I put her to bed. “Very nice, darling, I can see why you ‘wuv’ him.” 

“Yes,” she sighed again, as she slipped into the exhausted sleep of a stage star, leaving me to meditate on the innocence of children and the purity of their love.


Chapter 2: On my Mind.

Next day I found the image of Aine Thorogood popping into my mind. I was puzzled why this was so. Since there had been no sexual contact with a woman since Gloria left, and very little for some months before she did leave, my interest might have been put down as sexual attraction. Yet as I have already pointed out, she was no more physically attractive than a lot of other women present at the play, and I knew for certain that one or two of those were willing to satisfy my sexual needs if I had wished.

As a loyal supporter of my actress daughter, I attended the second night of the play. The children, having drawn confidence from the success of their previous performance, now flung themselves into the action with hilarious abandonment. Disaster followed disaster, all of which they carried off with grins at the audience and great aplomb.

I looked around for Aine, but she was not there. After the play and an even longer and more boring speech by the Principal, there was another cake fest. During this I saw Jamie with a couple who looked about sixty years of age. 

“That’s Jamie’s grandma and grandpa,” whispered Sam in my ear, “They won’t let him play with anyone.”

Sam might have been exaggerating, but I noted that the couple kept Jamie very close to them, and they seemed to speak to no one else.

Once more I took my little cake encrusted starlet home to be informed again at bedtime that she “Wuved” Jamie, and added, ”I wuv you too, daddy.” Then she said, “Jamie hasn’t got a daddy,” and went to sleep.

“Yes, my darling,” I thought, “and you barely have a mummy.” I choked down the emotion that threatened to bring tears, and gave myself a glass of whisky.

During the days that followed the play Aine Thorogood continued to occupy my mind. I went so far as to go to the public library and look up her story in back numbers of the newspapers. 

In so far as the media can be believed, Gina’s information was about correct. The original charge against Aine had been murder, but somehow this got changed to manslaughter. 

Her husband, it seemed, had been an up to the minute Marquis de Sade. The witnesses for the prosecution testified to what a lovely little boy he had been, and such a virtuous teenager, never the less he ended up a depraved monster. The testimony of Aine’s doctor told of the physical and emotional damage he had done to her over the five years of their marriage.

The jury found her guilty on the manslaughter charge and added a recommendation for leniency. Even though Gina had said the sentence was lenient, I thought the judge acted rather harshly considering the circumstances, giving her three years imprisonment. She served two years and was then released.

Photographs of her showed the frightened face of a bewildered woman, those large dark eyes of hers filled with apprehension. I know people say, “The law is the law,” but I wondered what earthly good it was putting an ill used and frightened woman into prison. More to the point would have been some loving care. The question that arose I suppose was, who would want to love a husband killer?

There was little about her son Jamie. For once the media had the decency not to try and get its readers wallowing in that combination of self-righteousness and useless sentimentality so dear to them. There was in one newspaper a brief mention that the child would be put in the care of his paternal grandparents.

A further and indignant note in one newspaper announced that Aine had refused a large sum of money to tell her life story. “At least there’s someone left in this world with some wholesomeness.” I thought. “Perhaps not everyone can be bought with money.” Then cynically I thought further, “I wonder what would buy her?” then I felt ashamed of my scepticism. 

My only excuse for my cynicism is the bitterness I felt over Gloria who, to distort a quote from the bible, had exchanged Sam and I for a “mess of pottage.” Perhaps I deserved the treatment Gloria had dished out, but not little Sam.

It may have been foolish, but at first I had told Sam that “Mummy has gone away for a while because of her work.” Ironically this was not altogether untrue. But Sam is a bright enough little girl, and after around three weeks of Gloria’s absence she said to me, “Mummy doesn’t want us any more, does she daddy?”

Sam looked at me dry eyed, while I tried to fight back tears and attempt to justify her mother’s absence. When I finished Sam, still staring at me solemn eyed, asked, “You’re not going to leave me, are you daddy?”

I think it would be hard to find something more heart wrenching than that for a father, and hugging her to me, I assured her that I would never leave her. She sat on my lap, pressed against me for a long time, saying nothing. Then as if the matter had never been raised she got off my lap and said, “I’m going to find teddy,” and went off on her search.

When next day I had dropped Sam off at my parent’s house, I told my mother what Sam had said and how she seemed to close the door on the matter, she said, “Derek, she hasn’t closed the door, she’s just buried her pain. You must be very careful with her.” She then added, “And with yourself, darling.”

I work as an engineering draughtsman and I would have willing given up my job to look after Sam, but I had to have money for us to live on. Had it not been for my parents, my plight would have been very difficult indeed.


Chapter 4: An Agnostic Prays.

The play had taken place at the end of the school year so it was Christmas vacation for Sam. She was now in my parent’s care more than ever as I had to leave her to go to work. Aine Thorogood gradually faded from my mind. I had not anticipated seeing her again, so when I did see her, and the place in which I saw her, it was, to say the least, a surprise.

On Christmas Eve my parents always had a gathering of family and friends. It was a cheerful but reasonably quiet occasion, and was concluded by our attendance at the local church for a midnight service of Carols and Nine Lessons.

I was something of an agnostic at the time, and went along to the service partly for my parent’s sake, and partly because the service is quite beautiful and well done. Sam by special dispensation was allowed to stay up late and come with us.

Arriving at the service a few minutes before it was due to start I was idly looking around the congregation when I saw Aine enter the church. As she walked down the aisle seeking a seat, she spotted Sam and stopped by our pew. 

“You’re the little girl who played Mary in the school play, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“Yes,” replied Sam, no doubt wondering who the lady was.

Aine seemed to hesitate for a moment as if wondering if to say more, then went on, “I’m Jamie’s mother. Can I sit with you?”

“Yes,” replied Sam with some enthusiasm, no doubt delighted to be in the presence of her beloved Jamie’s mother.

“Is Jamie coming too?” Sam asked.

“No, he’s gone to bed,” Aine replied.

Sam sighed her disappointment and taking Sam’s hand I said to Aine, “I’m Sam’s father…er…Samantha that is… Derek Mack.”

Aine paused again, and then said, “Yes, I know. I saw you at the play.”

At that moment the organist gave forth with the opening bars of “Once in Royal David’s City.” The priest, readers and choir entered singing and there was no further talk.

The service begun, I entered into a sort of reverie, contemplating the woman sitting so close to me. A man killer with dark, sad eyes, a mother without her child, and my mind turning to Sam, a child without a mother. 

I was jolted back to consciousness of my surroundings. The opening of the service completed, a reader was reading the ancient myth of Adam and Eve, those two of whom it is alleged they brought sin into our world.

What sin? What was the deed done or not done by those two and their tempter the snake? Disobedience? Sex? Murder? Consciousness of being naked? What was that fruit and tree? I had long thought of this story as pure nonsense, but tonight it struck home anew, as if I had never heard it before and it was coming to me afresh.

What was that sin? It was irresponsibility, yes the petty carelessness of everyday, the betrayals and the denial of our accountability. The man betrays the woman: “The woman who you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” The woman betrays the snake: “The serpent beguiled me, and I ate.” Generation after generation, always the same: “It’s not my fault, he, she, it, made me do it.”

Yes, the petty betrayals of everyday life, the lies and deceits that carry within them the violence that bursts out with devastating and murderous force when finally we can no longer bear the burden of what we are and what has been done to us.

The service had moved on into calmer waters as the readers read the ancient promises of a final salvation from our human mire.

The choir and congregation rose to sing the children’s hymn, “Away in a Manger.” Aine had not risen and the hymn begun, I glanced across at her. Sam had fallen asleep lying across Aine’s lap. “My God, I thought, mother and child.” 

Aine sat still as a statue and I was distressed to see tears running down her cheeks. What was she seeing in her stillness? What pain was tormenting her? Was it the hymn reminding her of the time she gave birth? The absence of her son, or a little girl, not “asleep in the hay,” but on her lap?

I looked at her profile through my own emerging tears. In her sorrow I saw a beauty I had not observed before. Her mouth shut tightly against the sounds of her weeping – a mouth that in its fullness promised laughter and love. Her slightly aquiline nose and above it a broad forehead surmounted by luxuriant auburn hair. Above all those eyes, not black as they had seemed at a distance, but dark brown and now swimming with tears.

I looked away, unable to bear the sight of her grief and strangely, the sight of Sam cuddled against her. It was all so agonisingly poignant. I was so choked that I was no longer singing, but at the line, “stay by my side until morning is nigh,” I found myself whispering, “stay by her side until morning is nigh.” The agnostic offering his prayer for a woman he did not know, but who was in her grief holding his child.

When the hymn ended the priest called the congregation to prayer. It was a prayer that caught up the needs of people, their sorrows and pains. Again I found myself praying to the doubted God, “Give her love and comfort for she has born much.”

During the next hymn Aine still sat with Sam in her lap and I could see she was struggling to find her handkerchief as she tried not to disturb the child. I got my own unused handkerchief out and passed it to her. She looked up and gave me a wan smile of thanks.

The remainder of the service passed in a blur until at last the organ roared out, “O Come all ye Faithful.” The choir and readers processed out of the church and the priest stood alone to pronounce the benediction. The organ was hurled into a Bach fugue and the congregation began to leave, calling out to each other, “Merry Christmas.”

The three of us sat for a while until most of the congregation had left the church, and then I extended my arms to take Sam. Aine carefully gave Sam to me, passed me back my handkerchief and said, “Thank you,” rose and walked out of the church.

I didn’t want her leave like that, alone and desolate. I tried to catch up with her but encumbered by the still sleeping Sam, I lost sight of her.

My parents were standing chatting with a little group of people, but when my mother saw me she came to me and asked, “Who was that lady holding Sam?” She had been sitting in the pew just behind Aine, and must have seen much of what had passed.

“That’s Aine Thorogood,” I told her.

Mother looked puzzled for a moment, just as I had on first being told the name, then realisation dawned, “That’s the woman who…”

“Yes, that’s the women,” I said quickly, wanting to cut her off before she said those words, “Killed her husband.”

“She looked terribly distressed,” mother said.

“Yes, I wanted to catch up with her when she left at the end of the service, but she was too quick for me.”

Mother stood thinking for a moment, then turned and tapped my father on the shoulder. She whispered something to him and he looked over at me and then nodded to mother.

“She went that way,” mother said. “She was walking, so why don’t you give Sam to dad, and see if you can catch up with her. Invite her to come back to our place for a drink. No one should be on their own Christmas Eve.”

I mentally thanked God for my mother’s compassion – what was I doing thanking God? - and took off at a trot in the direction mother had indicated. I turned the corner of the street and kept going until I reached the next junction. 

I looked down each street in turn and could not see her. Thinking there was no point in going further I was about to turn back when in the light of street lamp I saw a flash of white. Aine had been wearing a white linen suit!

I set out at a faster pace and as I drew close I called “Excuse me madam.” 

She stopped and turned almost warily, as if expecting something unpleasant to happen.

I came up to her panting and gasped, “My mother said would like you to come and have a drink with us.”

“Why?”

“On, she saw how kind you were to Sam and…”

“I can’t.”

“We really would like you to,” I said, I hoped persuasively. “If Sam is still awake I’m sure she’d love to be with Jamie’s mother. She says she ‘wuvs’ Jamie.”

“You don’t know who I am. You wouldn’t want me…”

“I know who you are and we do want you to. If your reason for not coming is what is past and not something else you have to do, then please come, I would like you to.” 
She stood looking at me for a few moments as if assessing my personal invitation, and then asked, “I won’t spoil things for you?”

“You won’t spoil things for any of us,” I replied.


A Christmas Play



“All right, and thank you, it’s very kind of you.”


Chapter 4: Getting to Know You.

We walked back in the direction of the church where my parents were still waiting, the others having gone on ahead. Sam and I had come in my parent’s car, so taking Sam back from my father, Aine and I got into the back of the car.

Somehow Sam had continued to sleep and once in the car Aine said, “Could I hold her again?” I passed Sam over to her and she drew her close to her breast. “She’s thinking of Jamie,” I thought.

Tomorrow morning there would be gifts. Sam would be laughing as she opened her parcels, and we adults would be delighted with her pleasure. Probably there would be no child for Aine to take pleasure in. I wondered about Gloria. She had sent no gift, not even a note or a card. Would she also miss the joy of a child on Christmas morning? Had Aine sent a gift to Jamie that she would not see him open?

Arriving at the house poor little Sam was handed over once more. I took her straight to bed and Aine, coming up behind me asked: “Could I…could I…I won’t get in the way…if I…”

I knew what she wanted, so I said, “Of course. You can help me get her into her nightie.”

We went to the room where Sam would be sleeping that night and I undressed the half awake half asleep little thing. Aine was holding the night dress, so I made no move to take it from her, but allowed her to put it on Sam.

I said to Aine, “Just wait here a minute,” and I went to the room I would be using and got the small Christmas stocking to put at the foot of Sam’s bed. The main gifts would be given out after breakfast in the morning.

When I got back to Sam’s room Aine was sitting on the edge of the bed softly stroking Sam’s hair. As soon as she was aware of my presence she quickly withdrew her hand saying, “I just wanted to touch her again.”

“I know how you feel,” I replied, smiling. “She has that effect on a lot of people.”

I placed the stocking at the foot of the bed and kissed Sam on the forehead. I saw Aine make a move as if to kiss Sam, but pulled back. I smiled again and said, "I’m sure Sam would love you to, if she was awake to know.”

“Thank you.” She bent and kissed the child.

As we left the room I said, “By the way, you thanked me in the church.” I gave a quiet laugh. “Was that because Sam had fallen asleep on your lap or because I loaned you my handkerchief?”

“Neither, although it was lovely to hold her. I thanked you because I felt you praying for me in church.”

That did startle me. How on earth could she know that a near hardened agnostic verging on atheism had so far betrayed himself as to pray? I hadn’t the courage to ask at that moment.

The little group of friends and relatives had gathered in the lounge and were chatting and laughing as they sipped on their drinks and ate the little sandwiches mother had made. This would be the difficult moment, I thought. How will they receive Aine?

Thank God for my mother – there I go again, thanking the non-being – she has a beautiful non-patronising way of drawing people in and making them feel welcome. She took over Aine and having ascertained what she would like to drink, I was sent to get it. It must have been a brandy and dry because…well, more of that later.

I returned with the drink plus my own whisky, and was told by mother to go away and make myself pleasant to the company because she and Aine were talking female things. In a minor way I have always been grateful that mother never used that immature phrase, “Girl talk.”

I wandered around talking to various people until they began to make their way home. Eventually there were only my parents, Aine and myself.

“Derek will drive you home, Aine,” mother said.

“Oh no, I can…”

“No you can’t, not at this time in the morning.” Then peremptorily to me, “Derek!”

“Yes of course, mother.”

Aine turned and said to mother and father, “Thank you for inviting me, it’s been lovely.”

Mother kissed her on the cheek and said, “We’ve loved having you. Perhaps we shall see more of you in the future.”

“I’d like that if…”

The poor woman seemed to be for ever getting cut off before she’d finished a sentence as my father shook her hand and rumbled, “Been delightful to have you, my dear.”

I drove Aine home and found that she lived in a rather run down part of the town. She said very little as we drove and tried to persuade me to drop her off at the corner of her street. It seemed clear that she did not want me to see where she lived.

I was not having that, so she gave in and let me drive up to the house where, as I was later to discover, she rented one room. 

From first seeing her at the play I had been fascinated by Aine. The fascination initially had not been about sex or lust, or any of those usual things that are supposed to draw a man to a woman. I suppose it was an intense curiosity that had led me to read the back numbers of the newspapers. Now my feelings had become something else. Perhaps compassion best describes them.

Aine made to get out of the car, but I touched her arm and said, “I’d like to talk for a moment.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t want to be pushy, Aine, but would you like to join us tomorrow morning, when Sam opens her gifts?”

I knew it was a dangerous question. She would have Jamie in mind and seeing another child’s Christmas pleasure might be shattering for her.

It was a relief that she did not refuse outright, but asked, “What about your parents?”

“You heard what my mother said. She never says what she doesn’t mean just to be polite. She said she’d like to see you again.”

“Thank you Derek, I should like that very much.”

“I’ll pick you up about nine, then?”

“I shall be ready.”

I drove home for some reason singing.


Chapter 5: Mother has a Talk.

Late as it was mother was clearing things away when I arrived and was geared up for a talk.

After enquiring if Aine had got home all right, she went on, “I had quite a long talk with her, Derek. We did not talk about her past, it was mainly about Sam, but I could work out that she has been very, very deeply hurt by life.”

“Yes, I know. Look mother, I’ve invited her here for tomorrow morning, is the okay?”

Mother looked t me long and hard, and then said, “Yes, that’s all right, she will be welcome, but there is one thing. I don’t know what you have in mind, Derek, but be very gentle with her. I’ve got the feeling that there’s a lovely person inside her wanting to get out, but she’s afraid.”

“She was very good with Sam, mother.”

“Yes, but that’s because she feels that Sam is safe. Sam doesn’t know about her past, and can accept Aine as she is. We do know, and it’s hard to put that aside. But I tell you this, Derek, I read all the newspaper reports about her arrest and trial and listened to all the media nonsense at the time, but I can read between the lines, and what I read was that this woman has been badly hurt, hurt physically and emotionally.”

“You’ve been hurt yourself, not in the way Aine has been hurt, but you are vulnerable. She’s an attractive woman and if you are thinking of trying to get involved, be careful with her. And if you’re not thinking of getting involved, do nothing to give her the impression that you are. There’s enough pain in the world without adding to it.”

She rose and kissed me on the cheek and said, “Good night, darling, and be careful.” 

“Good night, mother, and thank you.”

She smiled and departed for her bed. It was four in the morning and I was nearly asleep standing up, so I staggered off to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.


Chapter 6: “On Christmas Day in the Morning.”

I was awakened by Sam shaking me and saying, “Daddy, look what Father Christmas left me.”

She was holding the little Christmas stocking, her mouth already smeared with some chocolate it had contained. In addition there were the usual small things, a doll, whistle and what could have been a Dalmatian dog or a spotted cow, it was rather hard to tell.

It was one of those deeply touching moments when a child is so delighted with such little things. They have not yet learned to demand vastly expensive gifts of their distraught parents with such blackmailing phrases as, “All other girls (or boys) have got…”

I looked at the bedside clock and saw it was eight o’clock.  Giving Sam a kiss and getting a taste of her chocolate I said, “I’ve got to go and get the lady.”

“Are you going to get Jamie’s mummy. She put my night dress on last night, didn’t she? Can I come with you to get her, please, daddy?”

“All right, I said, but you’ll have to hurry, I don’t want to be late.”

There was a flurry of showering and breakfasting and two minutes after nine o’clock we were outside Aine’s house. She must have seen us arrive because before I could get to the door she came out and walked to the car.

Sam was jumping up and down on the seat and before Aine had a chance to get into the back of the car Sam called out, “Can I sit on your lap again Mrs. Lady?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said.

She smiled and said, “Of course,” then lifting Sam out of the seat, she sat in the front and placed Sam on her lap.

There are situations where a male and female relationship is in the process of being formed, and where one or both adults have a child. They make an exaggerated fuss of the other’s child. They are trying to convey the impression that they really would make a good substitute mother or father.

The exaggerated attention and affection usually makes it easy to pick that sort of situation, and often the affection does not extend much beyond the first entanglements of the adult pair. With Aine I got no impression that she was pretending to affection she did not really feel. She was what people call “natural” with Sam. She simply listened to her chatter about what she had found in her Christmas stocking and made appropriate comments.

The thought flashed through my mind, “If only Gloria could have…” I put the brakes on that one, recognising the futility of “If only’s.”

As soon as we got back to the house, it was present time. Aine looked embarrassed and I heard her whisper to mother, “I haven’t got anything.”

Mother whispered her reply, “You are here, and that’s enough, my dear.”

I could see that Aine looked puzzled by this response, but began to visibly relax.

We all got our Christmas present from under the tree, including Sam, but her special  present from me had been hidden away. It was her first little two wheeled bicycle and on seeing it she was reduced temporarily to silence. Then she was all over me with thanks and kisses and requests to be taken out and taught to ride it. Then she suddenly paused in her exuberance and whispered to me, “Mrs. Lady hasn’t got a present, do think Father Christmas would mind if I gave her the little dog?” We had agreed that it was a dog.

I whispered back, “I think he would be very pleased that you are such a kind little girl.”

Sam rushed from the room to return almost immediately with the dog wrapped in what looked like toilet paper.  She went to Aine and handing her the ragged parcel said, “I’ve got a present for you.”

Aine hesitated for a moment, and then took the gift and unwrapping it exposed the dog. She stared at it for several seconds, and then holding it to her breast she gasped, “Thank you darling, its lovely.” 

Her shoulders began to shake, and mother said to father, “Arthur, will you take Sam outside and start teaching her to ride on the garden path?”

Father may not be as sensitive as mother, but he took the situation in and said, “Of course, my dear. Come along, Sam, let’s ride.”

Aine had been fighting back her tears, but as soon as Sam had left with father, she broke down. I think it was one of the most agonising moments in my life, to witness someone so broken, so open, releasing what must have been the pent up misery of years.

The tears streaming down her face and sobs shaking her body, she looked up at my mother and said, “Oh Mrs.Mack, it hurts so much, so very badly. My heart is broken.”

Mother went to her and sitting beside her on the sofa and took her in her arms. She rocked Aine in her arms saying, “Cry my love, cry it all out. You can say it all because you’re safe with us.”

Out it poured the pain and suffering of her marriage. The imprisonment and her separation from Jamie. People’s rejection of her, their suspicion and whispers behind her back. Her loveless existence. 

That austere, remote look I had observed on first seeing her had fallen away completely, I saw a human being in all the beauty and ugliness of raw suffering. She was one of life’s little ones hiding in the comfort and protection of my mother’s breast. All her strength had gone and she was utterly fragile and defenceless in the face of her own grief, and she hugged the little dog to her. 

“A happy Christmas, Saviour of the world,” I sneered silently, “You didn’t save her, did you?”

I was shocked at what happened next. To this day I don’t know if I had a moment of madness, but as clear as if someone was in the room speaking the words, I heard in my head: “No, I didn’t save her. You prayed for her so I knew that I could leave it up to you.”

Aine had started to calm, and mother looked across at me to ask something and stared at me for a moment, then said, “Derek, are you all right, you’ve gone as white as sheet.”

Poor mother, she must have thought she had another lost soul on her hands, so I pulled myself together and replied, “I’m okay.”

Mother stared at me with that suspicious look mothers have when you’re a child, and they have asked you if you’ve opened your bowels that morning and you say ‘yes’ to escape being given a laxative.

Mother apparently decided to accept my declaration of all rightness and said, “Get Aine a drink, Derek.”

I went to the drinks table and remembering Aine’s drink of the previous night I poured her a brandy and dry. 

Taking the drink to her, I could see that Aine’s body was still being shaken by intermittent sobs, and she was shivering.

“Go to the cupboard in the hall,” mother ordered, “and you’ll find a woollen rug. Bring it here, would you?”

I did as ordered and returned to find Aine stretched out on the sofa, her head on a cushion. Mother took the rug and draped it over Aine saying, “Sleep now for a while, and we can talk more later.”

She signalled me to leave the room, and followed me a minute later.

“Well, Derek, you’ve seen a woman at the end of her resources. We’ll let her sleep until lunchtime, and then see what’s to be done. Now why don’t you go and take over from your father and teach Sam how to ride her bicycle?”


Chapter 7: A Cycling Interlude.

Again I did as instructed, and took Sam out to a nearby park to run up and down the path supporting her as she wobbled along on her first velocipedic adventure. 

By lunch time I was exhausted but Sam was exuberantly demonstrating her new found skill of balancing on two wheels. We had achieved this with no more than a grazed knee and a breathless father, and I think both of us were ready to eat.

Aine did not join us for lunch, but mother took her something on a tray.

Sam was rather puzzled by “Mrs. Lady’s” absence, and wondered aloud if Mrs. Lady would come and see her ride in the park that afternoon. Mother told her Mrs. Lady was not feeling very well, and would need to rest, but she might be able to see Sam later.

I was once more denied access to the lounge, and was told to take Sam back to the park to ride her bicycle. Thus a large part of the afternoon was spent watching Sam gain riding confidence while I sat on a park bench under a tree.

It’s amazing how much pleasure a parent can get from their child’s delight. Watching Sam and hearing her cries of glee at her success, the afternoon passed quickly. It was not until my father came seeking me that I realised I had been sitting on the bench for nearly two hours.

“Your mother wants you,” he said significantly,”I’ll stay with Sam for a bit longer.”

I hastened to obey the summons and was met by a thoughtful mother.

“Derek, I want you to drive Aine to her house and help her pack some things, and then bring her back here.”

“What’s happening?” I asked, puzzled.

“Aine will be staying with us for a while,” she replied. “She must not go back to that place to be alone, not for the next few days, anyway. We’ve had a long talk, and if it’s all right with Aine I’ll tell you about it later. Just go and help her get her things now.”

I turned to head for the lounge to get Aine, and mother added, “And Derek, she’s in a very delicate state, so no careless remarks or comments. Be sensitive.”

“Right.”


Chapter 8: The Lady of the House.

Aine looked pale and drained, and although she was not especially short, probably about five feet six or seven, she seemed diminished, smaller.

“I’ll take you to collect your things,” I said.

In a hoarse, almost inaudible voice she said, “Thank you.”

We drove to her house, or rather, her room. It was dim and sparsely furnished, with a single bed, small table and a wardrobe. Aine opened a drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe and began to take out various items of underwear and put them in a suitcase. I noted how worn and tattered some of the garments were. 

Opening the wardrobe door she took out the linen suit she had been wearing at the church and one dress. Apart from a top coat there was nothing else in there except a large box wrapped in Christmas paper.

Aine packed a few other items from around the room, including a photograph of a child that I recognised as Jamie.

“That’s all,” she said.

As we left an aggressive looking woman came out from a room near the front door and stood before us. Addressing Aine she said, “You owe me two weeks rent, when am I going to get it?”

“I’ll give it to you as soon as I get my social welfare cheque,” Aine whispered.  

“Not good enough," the woman said, "I want me bleedin’ money now.”

“I haven’t got the money,” protested Aine.

“Then I’d better hang on to yer things,” the woman responded belligerently, as she made a grab for the suitcase I was carrying. “Thought yer could sneak off with yer fancy man without payin’ did yer!” 

I held fast to the case and asked, “How much is owing?”

“She owes me a hundred and twenty bleedin’ dollars, and she ain’t pissin’ off with you until she’s paid up.”

I took out my wallet and handed the woman the money saying, “There you are, and Mrs.Thorogood won’t be coming back.”

“Oh, it’s ‘Misses Thorogood’ is it? We are coming up in the world, ain’t we!”

Ignoring the woman I turned to Aine and said, “We’ll take the rest of your things now, you’re not to come back here.”

We returned to the room and collected what was left, which was not very much. As we left the house the woman was waiting by the front door.

“Think she’ll make a nice screw do yer? Just wait until yer get a knife in yer ribs one of these nights.”

I was about to make some retort, then changed my mind. What was the use? The wretched woman was probably only trying to dump some her own pain on Aine, so why reinforce her troubled mind with a pointless comment?

Aine had been almost totally silent since we had left my parents’ home, and she made no response to the women’s abuse, in fact she hardly seemed to hear it. I hurried her to the car and we put her belongings in the back. As we clambered into the car the woman shouted out, “An’ if I find you’ve taken any of my things, I’ll have the law on yer.”

As I drove away with a bowed Aine beside me, I wondered what I was going to do with her, having decided for her that she wasn’t going back to that room. Mother had implied a few days for her stay at their house, how would she respond to the idea of a longer period?

Chapter 8: A Sister?

I needn’t have worried. My mother, with her seemingly boundless compassion for Aine, simply commented, “She can stay as long as necessary, Derek. We need to bring her back into life. I’m going to put her into the room Sam slept in, so I’ll go and help her unpack, then let her sleep again if she want’s to.”




A Christmas Play



“It won’t take you long to do the unpacking,” I said, “She’s got very little and most of what she does have looks as it’s fit for the rag bag, especially her underwear. Would you mind if I made a contribution and bought her a few things?”

“Good idea,” mother said.

“Only thing is, I don’t know what…you know…how to…”

“You men really are a useless lot,” mother snorted. “All right, I’ll check up on her sizes while we unpack, and you and me can go out together to get the things when the shops open on Monday. Now don’t go away because I want to talk to you when I’ve got Aine settled.”

“Where’s Sam,” I asked.

“Out in the park again with your father, on her bicycle.”

“Right, I’ll go and take over for a while and send dad back. He can give me a call when you want to talk.”

“Good.”

I retired to the park and was greeted by an exuberant Sam with, “Look what I can do daddy.”

She had previously had to stop the bike and get off to turn the thing around. She now demonstrated her ability to turn the bicycle around while still on the move. I had to witness this feat a number of times, offering my praise and admiration.

My father returned to announce that Aine was asleep and mother was ready to talk with me. 

“You’re getting a bit left out, dad,” I remarked.

“Don’t worry, she’ll reserve her talk with me until we get into bed tonight,” he grinned. “By the way, she says it’s time for Sam to come in, and I’ve got to supervise her shower. She really knows how to take over once she’s committed, that woman of mine,” he laughed.

Mother looked all limbered up for serious talk, but she began by saying, “She’s a size fourteen and takes a 38C in bras. I can see what you mean; her stuff is falling to bits. We’ll shop on Monday if it’s all right with you.”

“Fine, but you don’t think she’ll object to us taking over like this?”

“That’s partly what I want to talk to you about, Derek. Let’s go and sit in the lounge.”

Seated, mother started. “Aine and I have had a long talk. She’s been wide open, letting all the misery and pain, all the poison, come out. I don’t need to give you the sordid details, do I?”

“No, I read them for myself.”

“There is something you probably don’t know, Derek, and I don’t know what to make of it. When she came to the church last night it was a sort of farewell. She was going back to her room to turn on the gas fire and kill herself. I can see that she had plenty of reasons for giving up on life, but there was one last straw that broke the camel’s back.”

She paused for a moment seeming to be struggling with her own emotions, then went on in a low voice: “You saw that big box wrapped in Christmas paper?”

“Yes, what’s in it?”

“An electric train set. It was for Jamie. She bought it with money she’d saved out of her social security, but knowing she wouldn’t be allowed to see Jamie, she sent it, and they returned it. No note, nothing, just sent it back. Can you imagine anything crueller you could do to a mother?”

“During the church service she changed her mind about committing suicide, and do you know why?”

“No, why?”

“Because somebody cared enough about her to pray for her, and you know who that was, don’t you?”

“Yes. But I don’t understand how she knew, I mean, I didn’t speak out loud, except during that hymn ‘Away in a Manger’, but I was so quiet she couldn’t have heard.”

“No, she didn’t hear in the accepted way of hearing, she felt.”

“How do you mean, ’felt’?”

“I tried to get her to explain that, and all she said was it was like a warm feeling, and she knew somebody cared enough and was praying for her, and she felt the compassion coming from you.”

“I can’t say any more than that, Derek, because she didn’t say any more herself. Perhaps when you were a child I should have warned you about praying for people.”

“Warned me?”

“Yes, I should have told you that praying for people can be risky.”

I was completely lost as to what mother meant and I asked, “How is it risky praying for someone, after all, it’s just words?”

“Yes, that’s what a lot of people think about praying, but that’s not really prayer at all. Real prayer puts us in the position of being responsible to and for the person we pray for.”

I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach. I contemplated telling mother about the voice I had heard, but decided against it. She might think I’d gone crazy, so I remained silent on the matter and merely indicated to her that I’d understood.

Mother went on: “At the moment Aine is right down at the bottom of the pit, emotionally, physically and intellectually. What she needs is a hand stretched out to give her a start in her climb out of that dark place. We can offer that hand.”

Mother fell silent, and we both sat meditating on the situation. I began to wonder why we had got our selves involved. With all the pain and suffering in the world, why this one? And what of myself, did I not have pain? 

Then the realisation came that since first seeing Aine at the Christmas play, I had hardly thought about my problems with Gloria. I had gradually focused away from my own difficulties, and begun to focus on someone else’s situation. 

But what about mother, and father for that matter? I found myself cynically asking myself, “What’s in it for them.” I decided to voice that thought.

“Mother, why are we…why are you going to all this trouble for Aine, when…?”

“When there are so many others? It’s simple, Derek. Aine came across our path. I can do very little for the entire world’s suffering, but I can do something for this one sufferer. She was there, Derek…”

Mother paused; staring into space, then went on: “No, I’m not telling the complete truth.”

“Which is?” I asked.

“Derek, I’m not being the unselfish person I’ve been trying to tell you I am. There’s something in it for me.”

I couldn’t see what would be “in it” for her, so I asked, “What is in it for you?”

“Something I’ve always wanted, a daughter. I love you Derek, you know that, but one of the sad things for your father and I is that we never had a girl. When you brought Gloria into our lives I tried to be a mother to her, tried to love her, but she was too independent, too ambitious and quite frankly, too self-important to want anything I had to give. Perhaps it was my fault as much as hers. I never really liked her, and maybe she felt that.”

“And you want to take Aine as a daughter?”

Mother gave a wan smile and said, “That’s not biologically possible, and in any case she might not want it, but in the mean time I shall give her the love I would have wanted to give to a daughter in trouble.”

“Do you expect me to be her brother?” I asked, grimacing. 

“What you are to Aine will be your decision, but just remember, you were the one who prayed for her.”

Mother suddenly changed the direction of the discussion and said, “Regarding her son Jamie, I shall get your father’s legal brain working on that one, he’s a solicitor so I’m sure he can find out the situation.”

“Ah,” I thought, “that will be dad’s bedtime fare tonight.”

“About Monday’s shopping,” mother went on, “pick me up about nine. Would you? Now I’ve got to get on preparing the meal or we’ll all starve.”

She rose and went to the door, and then turned and said, “Well, don’t just sit there, come and help me.”

I followed her to the kitchen to peel and wash things.

Father arrived with a polished Sam. “We’ll leave as soon as we’ve eaten,” I said, then hastily added, “I mean, after we’ve helped clear up. I think Sam should have an early night.”

“Don’t bother about clearing up; go as soon as we’ve eaten, your father can help clear up.”

Aine joined us for the meal, and although she said very little, she did seem better for her rest. Sam and I left when we had finished amid a flurry of kisses. As I passed Aine at the door she made as if to kiss me, and then drew back. Instead she offered me her hand which I took, but pulled her to me and kissed her on the cheek. It was just a brotherly kiss!

Chapter 9: Brotherly Love?

Putting Sam’s bicycle into the back of the car together with her other gifts and mine; we drove home, both of us in thoughtful mood. As we neared the house Sam sighed, “Mrs. Lady didn’t see me ride my bicycle, can she see me tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, darling, but we are going to grandma's again on Monday; she might be able to see you then.”

“Good. I think she’s nice, daddy.”

“Yes, darling, but she is very tired.”

“Why is she tired, has she been working hard?”

“No, I don’t think so. There are other things that make people tired.”

“Oh. Will she be tired on Monday?”

“I don’t know, Sam. We’ll have to wait and see.”

With Sam tucked up in bed I sat back with a glass of whisky and contemplated the events of the last couple of days. It was all rather confusing. It was I who had brought Aine into our lives, but I wasn’t sure why. Connected to that question “why?” and in some ways more important, were my feelings about Aine.

Mother’s talk of seeing her as a daughter had been faintly disturbing. If it were pursued by mother and accepted by Aine, I foresaw certain complications arising for me. It would put her much more into the centre of our lives, and did I want a “brother substitute” role? After all, what did we really know about Aine? We knew what the media had splashed around, and had heard people talking about her. Their views ranged from “She should have been hung,” to my initial questioning of putting her in prison.

I gave up the mental struggle and my mind wandered on to Gloria. Where had she been during Christmas? Had she thought of Sam? Was there any pain for her? With the influence of a second glass of whisky I drifted off to sleep in the armchair and dreamed of pulling a white faced Aine out of a dark pit.

I woke some time later and dragged myself to bed and another dream of Aine, but this time it was…well, I awoke with an erection in the morning.

It was Sunday and Sam was given permission to ride her bicycle up and down on the footpath without oversight from me, but with a stern directive, “Don’t go on to the road.”

I pottered around the house doing odd jobs that had been left over from before Christmas, catching up with the washing and ironing, and preparing meals for Sam and I.

Throughout the day Sam kept raising matters concerning “Mrs. Lady.” 

“She’s very pretty isn’t she?” “Why was her face so white?” “If Jamie is her little boy, why doesn’t he live with her?” “Will she be tired tomorrow?” “I think Mrs. Lady likes me. Do you think she likes me, daddy?” “Will mummy come home one day?”

And so it went on, with that heart wrenching innocent persistence with which a child can seize upon the core of matters, while we adults continue to argue with ourselves or others about the “Ifs and buts”. 


Chapter 10: I Go Shopping With Mother.

When Monday morning dawned I felt oddly pleased with myself and wondered why. A bit of psyche prodding allowed me to admit that I was pleased I would see Aine. Further more, I was pleased that mother and I would be out doing something nice for her, or at least, I hoped it would be nice.

Sam and I, together with the beloved bicycle, arrived dead on the appointed time. Knowing mother I wouldn’t dare do anything else.

Aine was looking much better, no doubt because of the rest she had, but also because she found herself in an accepting environment. Mother would have been fussing over her, and father would have been engaged in his rumbling concern. 

Father was to take charge of Sam while mother and I went on our errand, but it was Aine who first took charge of her, telling her how pretty she looked and that they would go for a walk.

I didn’t think it would be a walk for Sam, as she would no doubt insist on riding her bike.

Mother and I departed, and under mother’s instructions we entered the car park of a large store. We seemed to ride up and down a bewildering array of escalators until we finally arrived at a department with a sign, “Ladies Lingerie.”

Like many men I hesitated to enter this silken region for fear that people, especially the shop assistants, would get the wrong impression. I hung back, but mother saw my wavering and commanded, “Don’t be so silly, Derek, you’re the one who is buying.” Taking me by the arm she impelled me into department and up to a glass counter.

The place was festooned with a bewildering array of vests, panties, bras, slips and other items of female underwear that I could not give a name to. Sylph like waxen models with blank faces and nigh impossible figures displayed the items for sale.

Mother took control of an assistant and began the task of choosing the items. Her selection was, shall we say, practical. The sort of thing a girl would wear in the everyday hustle and bustle of life when the gear was not intended for the eyes of another in the more intimate moments.

Starting to feel a little more relaxed in the ambience, I let my eyes rove over the multitude of things for sale. I had no idea there could be such a variety of ladies personal attire. 

In the process of looking around my eyes fell upon one particular model wearing what almost did not exist. What there was of the garments consisted of a matching set of panties and bra. They were made of the finest delicate black material; the bra consisting of little more than under lift and the panties seemed to be made of narrow pieces of cloth.

I nudged mother and whispered, “What about something for special occasions,” and jerked my head in the direction of the displayed delicacies. 

Mother stared at the items for a moment, and then turned her gaze on me. “What ‘special occasions’ did you have in mind, Derek?” 

Realising I had committed a faux pa I tried to amend my words. “I mean something to make her feel really nice.”

“Are you sure you don’t mean to make someone else feel ‘nice’?” She giggled, which is most unusual for mother, then said, “You’re right, Derek; something to make her feel pretty, but they’ll cost you fortune.”

I failed to see how the substantial things mother had chosen, containing far more material than the scant objects I had chosen, could cost less. However, such are the mysterious ways of the female and their attire.

I shrugged and said, “We’ll take them.”

I had taken scant notice of the things mother had decided on, and had little idea about relative sizes. When mother told the assistant “38C bra, please”, and the bra appeared, I had a dazzling vision of what would go inside those near non-existent cups. Something stirred in my nether region.

Our purchases wrapped we began our journey through the maze, and in doing so passed another department selling female clothing. I think both of us were struck by one displayed item. It was a sea green pant suit.

“With her hair colouring she’d look lovely in that,” remarked mother.  

“Yes, stunning,” I murmured as I pictured Aine wearing it together with the special panties and bra. “She’s only got that white suit and a couple of rather washed out dresses.”

Mother contemplated for a minute or so, and then said decisively, “I’ll get it for her.”

Twenty minutes later we emerged from the store triumphantly bearing our purchases and headed for home, anticipating the pleasure we would give Aine. Didn’t someone say, “It is better to give than receive”?


Chapter 11: A Delayed Christmas Day.

When we got to the house it was to find Aine, father and Sam absent. “They’ve gone out with Sam and her bicycle,” I commented.

The Christmas tree was still standing in the corner of the lounge, so we decided that the parcels should be put under there, and on Aine’s arrival we would announce that they were belated Christmas presents for her.

Then began that impatient excitement that besets the givers of gifts as they await the arrival of the intended recipient. One of us was constantly looking through the window or going to the front gate to see if they were coming.

Eventually mother came rushing in from the front gasping, “They’re coming, they’re coming.”

I draped myself nonchalantly on the sofa, while mother prepared to waylay father in the hall to alert him to what was about to happen. I heard mother say to Aine, “Just go in to the lounge, would you dear?”

Aine came in holding Sam’s hand and there was a low murmur in the hall and mother and father entered.

Mother and I had failed to arrange who was to present the gifts, so there was a brief hold up as we each waited for the other to speak. I decided to take the initiative and said, “Aine, we thought as you only had a gift from Sam on Christmas Day, we’d like you to have a late Christmas Day, so we bought you some presents.”

I pointed to the parcels under the tree and Aine, with a look of bewilderment, knelt down to begin opening them.

Mother and I decided that the best should be last, so the everyday things were on top, followed by the delicacies of my choice, and finally the pant suit. 

Opening the “every days” Aine was delighted and said, “Oh, lovely, they’re just what I need, how did you know?”

She looked at me, and then blushed, realising I had noted her underwear when I helped her pack. She turned away and opened the second parcel and became very still, staring at the panties and bra for a long time. She said nothing and finally opened the last parcel.

It was too late to whisk Sam out of the room this time as we were all taken by surprise.

Aine clutched the suit to her breasts and began to sob helplessly. Through the gasps and gulps could be heard, “No… no… I can’t…it’s too much…Oh no…Why did you…?

Sam ran to her and put her arms round her neck and began to kiss Aine’s tear soaked cheeks. “Don’t cry, Lady (‘Misses’ had dropped off and ‘Lady’ had taken on the character of a proper name). Please don’t cry you’ll look very pretty in it.”

Aine held Sam to her as well as the suit, and her sobs began to diminish. I had expected mother to swing into action as she had the first time Aine wept, but instead, she looked at me and whispered, “You prayed for her.”

I went to them and engulfed Aine and Sam in my arms. “It’s all right Aine, we loved getting them for you. We didn’t want to make you unhappy, we just thought…” I stopped speaking. Holding Aine and Sam I felt warmth emanating from them. I had thought we were fulfilling a need in Aine, but suddenly I found that these two were gratifying something in me. 

Aine turned her face to me and kissed me on the lips, then still with her arm round Sam, went to my mother, kissed her and did the same to my father.

She stood for a moment looking at us, then very quietly said, “There aren’t the words to express what I’m feeling so, thank you.”

We all stood silent for a moment, then mother went to Aine and putting her arm round her said, “Let’s go to your room and put the things away.”

“Can I help, Lady? I can put things away,” Sam pleaded.

Aine took her hand and said, “Of course you can.” The three of them left the room.


Chapter 12: Father Has a Talk.

Father rumbled wordlessly for a moment, then said, “Feel a bit of a cheat getting a kiss, I haven’t done anything.

“Yes you have, dad,” I grinned, “You’ve provided the money for mother to spend.”

He laughed then said, “I’ve got my orders. I’ve got to look into the business of her son. Not my line of law really, but I can get one of the colleagues to take it up. Can be very tangled this family business. People using kids and property to get back at each other. See what I can do, eh?”

“Yes, mum said she’d get you going on the matter.”

He laughed again; “She’s always getting me going on something, but what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know, you and Gloria. Heard anything?”

“Nothing; She could have disappeared of the face of the earth as far as Sam and I are concerned. I could have tried to get in touch with her through the company she works for, but what would be the use. If she doesn’t want Sam and me, especially Sam, there’s no point in pursuing her.”




A Christmas Play



“Might be a good thing for you that she has gone, but how about the little one?” 

“Don’t know, dad. The other day she asked if Gloria would be coming home one day, but she mostly doesn’t talk about her or ask questions. As mum said, she’s probably buried it somewhere deep inside her.”

“Yes, a lot of kids do that; can come out later in nasty ways. I’ve been out with Sam and Aine, as you know. Watching those two, they’re as thick as thieves. Got the idea Sam has taken Aine on as a substitute mother, and Aine is compensating for Jamie with Sam. Not sure I like it, but…” He shrugged and fell silent for a moment, then looking at me intently asked, “What about you, old boy?”

“What about me?”

“We’ll, do you mind the two of them getting on so well? What do you feel about Aine? Damned pretty woman, or will be if she gets over all this grief she’s been going through.”

“You know dad, mum keeps asking the same sort of question. She seems to think I should have some sort of…well…intentions regarding Aine. She even went so far as to warn me about Aine’s delicate condition.”

Father rumbled loudly, “Ha, not got her pregnant, have you? That’s what women used to say years ago when they were pregnant, they were in a ‘delicate condition’.” 

“No dad, I’ve not got Aine pregnant, in fact I’ve barely had physical contact with her, and apart from the fact that I haven’t touched her, I should think getting pregnant would be the last things she’d need right now.”

“Only joking, old son. Of course the girl’s in a delicate condition. Been through a hell of a time, but given the departure of Gloria…well…you know…wouldn’t blame you having thoughts, if you see what I mean.” 

“I see what you mean, dad, but I should think that two people with the problems Aine and I have got are better off apart. We’d probably end up with another problem on top of the one’s we’ve got. And anyway, I’m not considering Aine as a possible partner, sexual or otherwise.”

Father gave another rumbling laugh and said, “Pity, the way things are going your mother would love to have her in the family. Wouldn’t object myself. Seems a nice enough woman. Probably have a lot to give if she ever gets into her right mind. Look here, old chap, if you need any help over Gloria…you know, legal stuff, just let me know. I could get the right chap on the job to sort things out for you.”

“Thanks dad, I’ll bear it in mind, but I’m not ready to finalise things in that direction yet. I’ll get around to it in the new year.”



Chapter 13: The New Year Resolutions.

The Christmas break over, I returned to work. Sam was not returning to school for a few more weeks, and so the daily ritual was, to take Sam to my parents in the morning and pick her up after work in the late afternoon. Father was back in his law office as well, so Sam had a large part of her day with mother and Aine.

It became obvious that Aine was gaining an increasing influence over Sam. Sam’s conversation when I picked her up was littered with, “Lady says” this, “Lady says” that. “Lady and I went shopping today. Grandma says Lady is feeling much happier. Lady keeps the little dog on the table beside her bed, I’ve seen it.” 

Mother also kept me constantly up to date with the health, welfare and deeds of Aine. Father had got his colleague to look into the matter of Jamie, and theoretically there was no reason why the boy should not join his mother.

“You see, old chap,” father said when we were alone, “there was never anything legal about their taking the lad. Aine’s parents are both dead, and her brother lives overseas, so the paternal grandparents were an obvious choice. The thing is, though, if Aine made a strong bid at this stage to get him back, or even tried to get access, the grandparents might try and put their custody on a legal footing.”

“If the matter came to court, the judge would want to ascertain whether Aine was in a position to take care of the boy properly. That would include her health and mental state, and whether she could provide a proper home for him. There would be all sorts of psychological people and welfare workers poking their noses into Aine’s fitness or otherwise, to have the boy back.”

“I’ve suggested to Aine that we leave the matter over for a while, until she’s more settled. She doesn’t like the idea, but sees the sense of it.”

Mother was next in line with her plotting.

“I think Aine should get some work,” she stated baldy to me. “She needs to get a sense of self worth. The trouble is, she got married to that man rather young, and stopped working when she got pregnant. She’s only got limited skills and I’m afraid her reputation as a husband killer precedes her. I’ve got a solution, though. I’m going to have a chat with your father tonight and see if they can’t find a place for her in their office.”

I wondered how much of this had been discussed with Aine, and what the clients of my father’s law office might think about Aine being employed by them. I decided, however, to say nothing and let the situation develop for a while.

On New Years Eve my parents usually had another gathering of friends and family. During the few days between Christmas and New Year word had got around that Aine now lived in my parent’s house. This had given them a little time to get used to the idea, and as seems usual in our family, they accepted Aine as part of the scene.

I had thought that Aine would dress up in her new pant suit for the occasion, but instead she wore one of her old dresses.

She spent a large part of the evening attached to Sam and me. I took this to mean she found security among relative strangers by sticking with the known. Her appearance had improved remarkably in so short a time and she was beginning take on the pretty looks father had predicted.

I had never asked her age, and on first seeing her at the play I had assumed she was about thirty. Now I could see she was somewhat younger than that. 

I had tried to convince my parents and myself that I had no interest in Aine but to help her. That I wished to help her was true, but gradually a further dimension had crept in. I was beginning to see her as an attractive and desirable woman. I knew from mother’s warnings that to seriously pursue Aine would be fraught with difficulties, not the least of them sexual, never the less, she occupied my mind increasingly.

It was during our New Year gathering, when for a few minutes I was without the company of Aine and Sam, that mother casually said, “I don’t know why you don’t take Aine out some time. I know she likes music so why not take her to a concert? Your father and I could look after Sam for the evening.”

I tried a minor delaying tactic by pointing out that Aine might not care to go out with me, but mother countered this with, “You won’t know unless you ask her, will you? And she needs to start getting out more.”

By the end of the New Year gathering I realised that a number of, if not resolutions, at least some intended directions, had been put forward. Attempts to return Jamie to Aine to be put on hold; an attempt to get Aine a job was in the pipeline and I was to take Aine out to a concert.

Perhaps more subtle in its implication and less consciously focussed, was the growing relationship between Sam and Aine. I would have been quite happy about this if I could have been convinced that this was anything other than substitution; Sam using Aine as a mother replacement, and Aine using Sam as a child replacement.


Chapter 14: Dating Aine.

I made no immediate attempt to “date” Aine, but in the days following New Year I began to look out for advertisements announcing concerts. I liked Aine and cared about her and in addition I began to feel excited about the prospect of an evening out with her.

Opportunity came with a concert by the State Symphony orchestra. Picking up Sam after work one evening, and trying to sound casual, I asked Aine if she would like to attend the concert with me. The response was an animated “Yes.” 

I suppose I felt sufficiently flattered, as most males do, that a woman has jumped at the chance of going out with me. Of course, I might have looked at it from another perspective, namely, that she was jumping at the chance of going to a concert, the ticket price of which she could have ill afforded out of her social welfare cheque, and the escort was but an adjunct to the main event.

On the evening of the concert it was arranged that I should have my evening meal, shower and change of clothes at my parent’s house. Sam would not have to be taken back and forth, and further, it was arranged that both of us would sleep the night there.

After the meal Aine and I prepared for our evening out. Showered and changed I waited for her in the lounge with my parents and Sam. When she walked in we were all momentarily silenced. She was wearing the green pants suit and looked absolutely stunning, in addition to which, she seemed to be glowing with pleasure.

Sam was the first to recover and ran to Aine, reaching up to put her arms round her waist saying, “You look ever so pretty, Lady.”

My father rumbled, “Sure you wouldn’t like change places with me tonight, Derek.”

Mother said, “You look lovely, dear.”

Aine’s face was flushed with pleasure, but her escort could not find his tongue until we were on our way to the car. “I haven’t seen you in the suit before.”

“I haven’t worn it before. I was reserving it for a special occasion.”

I laughed, “The orchestra will be flattered.”

She said softly, “It isn’t for the orchestra, it’s for you.”

My laughter died as stab of painful pleasure shot through me and my head felt a little dizzy. More importantly, and uncomfortably, I began to get an erection. 

I suppose that this was the moment when I realised what I might have realised earlier, I wanted her. It was a sexual drive, but not that alone. As my feelings ran riot in that brief moment, I knew I wanted to love her, however difficult the way ahead might be. 

If I tried to describe the concert I would be lying. Throughout the evening my awareness of Aine being close grew ever more intense. It seemed to blot out all else. I did not want music, I wanted only to be with Aine. I longed to be alone with her. I wanted to pour out my feelings for her, but I knew neither was going to be possible, at least on that night.

During the drive home little was said. Aine was never very vocal, and I was too overwhelmed by what I was now feeling about her. Had it been any other woman, I might have attempted to bed her, but I conjectured that any attempt on Aine would be to destroy something that was in its embryonic stage.

The house was in darkness when we arrived, so we both went to our bedrooms. Before parting from her I kissed her softly on the lips and said, “Thank you for coming with me.”

“It has been a lovely evening, Derek,” she said, and slipped quickly into her room.

That night I had to relieve myself of an overwhelming sexual tension.

Other evenings out followed, and my desire to be with her increased with each occasion. Weeks, then months passed. Aine began work carrying out clerical tasks in my father’s office. It was a very junior position and although it paid little, she ceased to be eligible for social welfare money. She continued to live in my parent’s house and neither father nor mother seemed concerned about this. It was quite clear that mother had grown to love her dearly and would be hard hit when she did leave.

It was around eight months after first seeing Aine that two critical events took place. The first concerned my relationship with Aine.

I had held back from declaring myself for some time, but finally could not remain silent any longer. I told her quite plainly that I loved her as we sat in the car one evening after our return from attending a theatre.

Her first response, typically spoken in a quiet voice was, “Yes, I’ve known for some time you loved me.”

The calmness with which she seemed to take my declaration had me puzzled. If she had said, “And I love you,” or “I don’t love you,” even “I can never love you,” I would have felt grounded on something I could deal with. I suppose I became a bit irritable at her response that left me up in the air, so I said, “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“No Derek, it isn’t. There are things I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but haven’t known how to say them.”

“Say them like they are, Aine, but please, don’t leave me hanging like this.”

“Like they ‘were’, would be more accurate, Derek. He said he loved me, and I told him I loved him, and he hurt me. Oh, not at first, but when he did start he hurt me so badly I had to have repairs done to me -  repairs inside me. He started after Jamie was born. I’ve never understood why, but he used to say, “If you love me, then you’ll let me do anything.”

“The doctors almost begged me to tell the police, and I would have left him, but for Jamie. He told me I would never be able to keep Jamie, and I was naïve enough to believe him. It was only when he started on Jamie that I cracked. He was actually going to inflict pain on his own son. That’s when I killed him. I didn’t mean to kill him, I only wanted to frighten him, to stop his mad ideas...but…”

She ceased speaking and we sat in silence. There had been no frills about what she said, no histrionics, just a bare statement of what had happened. I wanted to respond, but didn’t know what to say.

It was Aine who broke the silence. “I know most women would have been having a sexual relationship with you by now given the time we’ve had together. You haven’t once approached me or tried to manipulate me sexually, and you’ll never know how much I’ve loved you for that. If I were to give you advice on our relationship I’d say, don’t bother with me, I’m not worth your effort. But I’m not going to advise you. I’m going to ask you to be patient with me for a while longer.”

I found my own voice; “For as long as it takes, Aine. I love you, and I shan’t back away until you tell me to.” My mother had said that I would have to wait for Aine to come to me, and that, it seemed, was how it had to be.


Chapter 15: Waiting for Aine.

As Aine and I were going out together ever more frequently, I was spending more and more time at my parent’s house. In addition to just Aine and me going out together, we would often take Sam with us. I suppose we could be accused of playing a game of happy families, but it was not like that. The inclusion of Sam seemed to be a perfectly natural outcome of our emerging relationship.

Aine spoke no more about the experiences with her husband, but Jamie crept into our conversations more and more. I think one of the fears she had was that Jamie would forget her, and even if he did come back to her, they would be as strangers to each other.

I spoke with my father about the problem, asking if it was not now time for an attempt to be made to get Jamie back. He was doubtful.

“You see, Derek, we want to be sure that Aine is settled. Its fine her living here, and your mother and I are enjoying having her, but it’s still not a place of her own. She’s doing well at work and the colleague who actually employs her has just given her a rise, but I think just a bit more time.” I had to rest content with that.

One of the problems I was facing was my ever increasing sexual desire for Aine. There had been no other woman since Gloria, and not lacking in virility, and frankly I was badly in need of Aine.

Another factor was her growing attractiveness. She now seemed in excellent health both physically and emotionally, and as she became increasingly relaxed, she spoke out more, and revealed a sharp intelligence. Now, because she was getting more money than she had received on social welfare, she also dressed better. To use my mother’s word, she looked “lovely.”

Perhaps you might think I would be pleased to have such a striking woman as a companion, but I had my own problems to cope with in that regard. When we went out men would turn to take another look at her. I had in mind Gloria’s desertion, and wondered if Aine would eventually make a better deal than a draughtsman.

The culmination came on a day when Aine, Sam and I had gone to the foreshore to watch a small yacht race. The race, from a viewer’s point of view, was as exciting as watching grass grow, but for some males there seemed to be an alternative source of excitement, Aine.

No doubt my own insecurity and sexual frustration played a large part in how I felt, but I overheard a young chap comment to his mates as they passed us, “I wouldn’t mind getting on to that and screwing it.” “That” being Aine of course.”

I felt a murderous anger and jealousy boil up in me, and almost started fight. Unreasonably I wanted to partially blame Aine for attracting such attention, but managed to retain sufficient self-control to see the irrationality of my thoughts. The afternoon was spoilt for me, and I was silent for the rest of the time we were there.

We returned to my parent’s house with me still sulking and Aine trying to find out what was wrong. My wretched pride would not allow me to express what I was feeling, that I wanted her all to myself, and hated other men looking at her lustfully. 

We were to eat at my parent’s place, and then Aine and I were going out to see a film. By the time we were due to go out I had calmed somewhat, and when Aine joined me in the lounge wearing her green “special occasions” suit, I felt completely mollified. 

On our return my parents and Sam were already in bed. Aine and I had a drink, and then went to our bedrooms. It had become habitual for us to say goodnight outside the door to her room, and to kiss. These were what you might call, “virtuous kisses,” but mild as they were, they added fuel to the fires of my desire for her. This night she held on to me a little longer than usual before slipping into her room.

I went into my bedroom with a raging erection. I was still carrying the remains of my drink, so I sat on the side of the bed thinking and finishing it off.

The drink gone, I stripped and was about to climb into bed and turn off the light, when there was tap on my door.

I scrambled quickly under the bed covers and called, “Come in.”

Aine entered. She was still wearing her green suit and she approached the bed to within about a metre then stood still.

I waited to find out what she wanted, but she simply stood there, her head down, not looking at me. I was about to ask her if she was all right, when she spoke.

Very softly she asked, “Would you undress me, darling?”

I lay on the bed staring at her stupefied, and then she added, “I think it’s all right now.”

I pushed back the bed covers and swung my legs so as to sit on the edge of the bed. It was one of those situations where I had to be sure she meant what I thought she meant.

“Aine, do you mean you want me to take your clothes off?”

“Yes.”

She could not help but see my rampant erection so I stood and went to her asking, “You’re quite sure?”

“Yes.”

I began to unbutton the suit, taking off the top first to discover she was wearing the flimsy bra I had bought her. I removed it and gazed at what was revealed. I was so moved by the beauty of her breasts I broke out with, “Oh, my love,” and bent to kiss her rosy nipples. As I did this she gasped and held me to her. I heard her say, “I do love you, Derek.”

I took off her pants to reveal that she was wearing the matching panties and taking these off I saw she had no pubic hair.

As if sensing my observation she said, “He hated it so he made…I had it permanently removed…you don’t mind, darling, do you?”

I smiled at her and said, “Of course not,” and knelt to kiss her mons. As I did I could see her firmly cleft vaginal lips with a silvery trace of her lubricant already there.




A Christmas Play



I rose and lifted her on to the bed and she clung close to me and said, “You won’t hurt me, will you?”

“No my love, I will never hurt you.”

With Gloria sex had been all techniques: vaginal, oral and anal sex had been grist to her sexual mill. With Aine I understood it had to be very different. My mother had warned me, and I heeded that warning. I would do nothing to Aine that was not clearly initiated by her.

I kissed her and for the first time felt her mouth open to receive my tongue. Our lips clung together for a long time, and when I finally broke away, it was to suckle her beautiful nipples. 

I had imagined her breasts many times, and as ideal as my fantasy had been, they were beyond anything I had envisaged. Firm and creamy coloured, they were surmounted by rose pink nipples. Had I been less urgent in my desire for her I might have lingered long over her lovely mounds.

My need was too great. I explored her vagina with my fingers, and finding it wet with her lubricant, I parted her legs and came over her, ready to penetrate.

I hesitated: “Darling, I haven’t got anything…I mean…you might get pregnant.”

“Yes, I know Derek. Would you mind?”

Visions of Gloria arose in my head; her resistance to pregnancy and my pleadings for us to have a child. Now, here was woman who actually did not mind my impregnating her, someone who might actually want to have a child with me. No argument, no fuss, just opening herself for me to fertilise her.

Still I hesitated. “Darling, are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure.”

I entered her and very quickly ejaculated into her, pouring out the frustration of months of holding back from her. She had no orgasm, but when I had stopped pumping into her she said, “Don’t leave me yet.”

I had no desire to leave her, and as I lay upon her she kissed my lips and face saying over and over, “Oh my love… my darling…”

My hands caressed her breasts as I felt a wave of contentment pass over me. I loved her; loved her almost to distraction. It was a love the like of which I had never experience before; a love that was tender and protective, yet passionate and demanding. It was a love that wanted to both give and receive. 

My penis, still inside her, began to harden again, and I began to move in and out. Suddenly she clasped me and began to moan, “Oh my darling, my darling, don’t stop…please don’t stop…”

She gave a tremendous upward thrust and cried out, “Deeper…please deeper.”

Her legs wound round me and I put my hands under her buttocks, and thrust in to the last millimetre of my length. I felt the sperm pumping up my shaft, and then it was firing into her as she wept and continued to cry out, “My love… my love.”

It was over, our first coupling. I lay inside her for a long time as she climbed down from her climax. She gave out soft whimpering sounds that ended with a sigh of contentment, and we lay, looking into each others eyes, neither of us desiring the inevitable separation of our bodies.

When we did part, Aine said, “I love you very dearly, Derek,” then slipped out of the bed and ran from the room. I had wanted her to stay with me for the night so that I might sleep with her in my arms, but Aine had decided otherwise. I was disappointed, but having emptied myself into her, I slept in peace that night.


Chapter 16: The Morning After.

I awoke next morning as if to a new world. It was Saturday and I did not have to go to work. I sang as I showered, and went to a breakfast I hoped to share with Aine. She was already sitting at the table eating, and looked up briefly as I came in, then blushed and looked down at her plate.

I was about to make some affectionate comment when mother entered. She was carrying Aine’s pant suit and underwear and she was smiling.

“I’m very happy for you both,” she said, “but do be more careful with your clothes, Aine.”

In my euphoria on waking I had failed to notice the garments I had removed strewn across the bedroom floor. Mother had started her morning tidying around the house, and found them. 

She sat beside Aine and said, “I’m so glad, darling. Was my brute of a son 
gentle?”

“Very gentle, mother,” Aine replied.

It was the first time I had heard Aine call her “mother”. It marked how great the bond that had developed between them was.

I wanted to get Aine on her own to speak to her. I wanted to reinforce my devotion to her, but after breakfast mother caught me first in the lounge.

“Derek, was everything all right?”

“Yes mother, it was lovely.”

“Good, I’m so glad for you. I’ve wanted it to happen almost most as much as I imagine you’ve wanted it. I gather from the presence of her clothes in your room she came to you.”

“Yes.”

“You know, Derek, Aine is not like a lot of women and their one night stands. If it went well with you both, she will feel bound to you. It will have been as important as that to her. She overcame her fear to be with you, and that took courage. What I want to ask you, not out of prurient curiosity, but for Aine’s sake, “Was it important to you?”

“Yes mother, very important.”

Mother came to me and kissed me; “I don’t want to see either of you hurt, darling.”

“I don’t think you will, Mother.”

“Good. I’ll keep Sam and father out of your way for a couple of hours. I’ll take them shopping. You’ll find Aine in the kitchen. Speak to her, Derek.”

Mother began to leave the room, but paused at the door, turned and asked, “You’ve got three bedrooms in your house, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.” She smiled and left me. 

The significance of my mother’s question about my three bedrooms did not sink in immediately, and putting it aside I made my way to the kitchen and found Aine working at the sink. She must have heard me come in, but she continued working. I went up behind her and put my arms round her.

“You’ve been very quiet this morning.”

She was still and silent for a moment, then she turned in my arms but kept her head turned from me.

“Derek, was I very terrible last night?”

I laughed and said, “You were exquisite, darling, why do you think you were terrible?”

“Coming to you like that, asking you to undress me, and…”

I laughed again. “Darling, I couldn’t come to you. If I thought that was possible it would have been a long time before last night. You understand why I couldn’t approach you?”

“Yes. Then you don’t think I’m a slut? You know…cheap?”

I kissed her and said, “Don’t you ever think of yourself as a slut again.” I gave another laugh and said, “And you’re not cheap. Look at the money I’ve spent on you taking you out.”

She looked at me for a moment as if considering how serious I was about the money, but after I kissed her again, she laughed, “Was I worth it?”

I became serious and responded, “You were worth that and far more, and I’m not just talking about sex. You’ve had a bad time yourself, but you’ve brought sunshine to my life, and Sam’s. What I want to know is, can we look forward to more sunshine in the future?”

As soon as I said it, I could have kicked myself. Aine had laid herself on the line coming to me the previous night, I was in a sense asking her to do it again. It was for me now to say something about the future by making an offer.

It was at that point mother’s three bedroom question sank into my thick head. The implication was I might want to take Aine to live with me, and beyond that, perhaps have Jamie come to us. I made up my mind to speak out, so I led Aine to the rather unromantic kitchen table and we sat.

“Aine, you know about the situation Sam and I are in. I’ve begun no divorce proceedings but, if you feel we can have a future together I’ll set things in motion. Gloria hasn’t been near us; she’s not even sent a letter or made a telephone call. It a little while I can file for divorce on the grounds of irretrievable breakdown of the marriage.”

“Are you asking me if I’ll marry you, Derek?”

“I didn’t do it very well did I? Let me say it properly. When I’ve cleared up my marital situation, would you marry me, Aine?”

“You’ve all been wonderfully kind, you, your father and mother, but just because of last night you don’t have to…”

“Stop it, Aine; you know it isn’t because we made love. I would have…I’ve wanted to ask…Damn it, Aine I love you, will you marry me or not?”

“Why can’t women answer a simple question with a simple answer,” I silently wondered. Then, as if to confound me, Aine said, “Yes.”

Surprised at the final clarity of her answer I waded straight on with, “As soon as we are settled I’ll get dad moving about Jamie.”

Aine made no response to this but sat looking at me speculatively. “Is that it, then?” she asked.

“Is what it?”

“I said ‘yes’.”

“I know I heard you.” 

“Aren’t you pleased I said yes?”

“Well of course I’m pleased. What makes you think I might not be?”

“You didn’t kiss me.”

“Let the earth open up and swallow a blundering idiot,” I thought. I ask the woman to marry me while I’m still married to someone else, I propose in the kitchen, and I don’t even kiss her when she says “yes”. 

“Darling,” I said contritely, “I think you might consider changing your answer to ‘no’. I mean, you don’t want to be married to a thoughtless clod, do you?”

I kissed her long and passionately, the she said: “Yes, I do want to be married to a ‘thoughtless clod’.”

“Darling, they won’t be back for some time, do you think we could…”

Yes, I did have that in mind.”

We made our way to the bedroom. 


Chapter 17: One Door Closes.

If I was superstitious I might suspect that what happened next was provoked by the understanding Aine and I now had. I would have wished Aine to come and live with Sam and me, but cautious as ever, Aine said we should wait at least until the divorce proceedings were set in motion.

As it happened it was just as well Aine did not come to us immediately, because a little over a week after our agreement to ultimately marry, I received a telephone call from Gloria.

Not only was I surprised to hear her voice, but was amazed at her effusive cheerfulness.

“Darling, it’s been such a time. It’s lovely to hear your voice, are you well,” and so on and so on. 

The upshot was, she wanted to see me and would be arriving the following evening. 

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you darling…and Sam of course.”

There was no question as to whether I wanted to see her or not, and she rang off before I could make any adequate response.

One thing was certain; Gloria would not see Sam until I had found out what she wanted. I saw no point in risking Sam being disturbed once again by her erstwhile mother.

I contacted my mother soon after Gloria was off the phone, and telling her what had happened, asked that she keep Sam for the following evening and night. She immediately saw the point and agreed, and added, “Have a talk to your father darling he might be able to give you some advice.”

Father came on the phone and rumbled, “Coming to see you is she? Well, whatever she wants, don’t agree to anything until you’ve had a chat with my colleague. Never liked that woman, but she’s no fool, so just be careful, and for God’s sake don’t put anything in writing or sign anything.”

“Thanks dad.” I rang off.

Next day I was tense and made errors in my work due to lack of concentration. It was not knowing what Gloria wanted that troubled me, and like most people in those situations, I conjured up the worst possible scenarios.

Arriving home I prepared a meal I couldn’t eat and moved restlessly around the house waiting for Gloria’s arrival.

The front door bell clanged and I went to it and opened it. Gloria stepped straight in and flung her arms round me.

“Darling, it’s been ages. Have you missed? But of course you have.”

I disentangled myself from her grasp and said, “Let’s go into the lounge to talk.”

Seated I looked at her, trying to assess from her appearance what was coming.  Gloria was an attractive woman in a buxom sort of way. Large breasted, in fact, with what used to be described as and “Hour glass figure.” She had clearly gone to some trouble preparing her self for this visit.

She has long dark hair, and I always used to enjoy seeing her wear it in a single braid over her shoulder. That was how she had it tonight. Her dress was cut low to reveal an expanse of upper breast, and the hem line exposed more than it covered.

Gloria was looking round the room. “Well, darling, you do seem to have looked after things while I’ve been gone, so neat and tidy.” She gave a stupid giggle, “You really would make a delicious house husband, sweetheart.”

“What is it you want, Gloria?”

“Oh, so serious, so solemn, anyone one would think you weren’t pleased to see me. And where is my sweet little Samantha, darling?”

“She is stopping with my mother tonight.”

Oh, darling, that's not very kind, is it? I was so looking forward to seeing her, but never mind; I can see her another time, perhaps tomorrow.”

“Just tell me what you want, Gloria.”

“Darling, isn’t it obvious? I’m coming back to you.” 

I was speechless. Whatever I had conjectured about Gloria’s visit, this had not been thought of.

“Darling, didn’t you hear what I said? I’m coming back to you; back here, to our house. Now tell me how pleased you are.”

It was amazing at the apparent self-assurance of this woman. No question about whether or not we should come together again, simply a blank statement that she was coming back. I think it was the utter gall of the woman that paralysed my vocal chords.

“Well, say something, darling.”

My voice returned and I asked, “What makes you think I want you back?”

“Oh darling, don’t be so pompous, of course you do, you love me. Now tell me how much you’ve missed me,” she gave another giggle, “especially in bed.”

Once I had felt bitterness and anger at her desertion of Sam and me. Now, looking at and listening to her, I only felt sickened. It seemed hardly credible that anyone could be so blind to the anguish she had caused, so arrogant as to believe she could just walk back in. 

I decided that the conversation, if that is what it was, had gone far enough. I came out directly with what I thought and felt. 

“Gloria, if ever I might have taken you back, it’s all too late now.”

“’Taken me back’? You take me back! I’m not asking you to take me back. I’m telling you I am coming back.”

She had spoken in anger, but she calmed again, making a visible effort to control herself. “Darling, I realise you might want to punish me a little, but you know in your heart you want me back. It will be just like it was before…better. Come on darling, come over here and kiss me. I might even agree to something more than a kiss if you’re nice to me.”

“I’ve told you Gloria, you’re too late. I don’t want you back and I don’t want you in this house. I don’t know what’s happened to bring you back here, but would you please leave!”

She gave a laugh touched with hysteria. “You don’t want me back! God almighty, who do you think you are? Where do you think you’ll get someone as good as me? You sniffed around me often enough before, you couldn’t keep your hands off me, and now you don’t want me back! You must have lost whatever senses you ever had, Derek, since I went away.”

She made another effort to control herself again. “Look, sweetheart, it was all a silly mistake. Let’s call it an aberration, a marital hiccup. I know I should never have left, but…”

I felt utterly cold as I sat looking at her. “No Gloria, you shouldn’t have left, you are quite right, but you did. You left without a thought for me, and worse still, Sam. Well, I can tell you we’ve made a life without you, and to put it bluntly, it’s a much better life.”

“You bastard, you self-righteous arsehole; I’ll take you for everything you’ve got, and I’ll get custody of Sam, you can be sure of that. Courts always give preference to the mother. You’ll find out…You don’t want me back…” She gave another even more hysterical laugh. “You think...” She stopped in mid sentence and her face contorted even more with fury. “Oh, I see…you’ve found yourself some stupid slut to stick your prick in. Which gutter did you scrape her out of Romeo?”

“My God, you’ve got a nerve. You stuck a bloody kid in me, very nearly ruining my career, and now you’ve got yourself some tatty tart you think you can dump me. Well, my sanctimonious spouse, you’ve got another think coming to you. I’ll be a millstone round your neck for as long as you live.”

I almost reacted to her vicious and foul remarks, but I was alert enough to realise that this would be just what she wanted. I restrained myself and said, “Gloria, if you’ve said all you came here to say, would you go.”

“What are you going got do, chuck me out? I know you, you wouldn’t lay a violent hand on a lady your too much of a gentleman or too gutless.”

“Gloria, I don’t think you’re doing yourself much good and it would be better if you left. We can perhaps talk through our solicitors if you wish, but for now…”

“Oh, I see. We’re going to hide behind our lawyer daddy, are we? All right, I’ll go, but I shall be back and you’ll be out of here. What do you say to that, arsehole?”

Recalling my father’s warning to be careful what I said, I made no response.

Gloria stood, and for a moment I thought she would rush at me and tear my face with her nails. She made another mighty effort to control herself, but she was shaking all over, indicating the fury raging within.

“See you in court,” she screamed, and left slamming the front door behind her.



Chapter 18: Another Door Opens.

I was shaken. I cared little about the house, but if Gloria should ruin the future I had in mind for Sam, Aine, myself and hopefully Jamie….

It was too late to do anything further that night, so I went to bed, but not to sleep. I tossed and turned until morning, wondering what was ahead.

I rang the office first thing and said I had a domestic crisis. They knew my circumstances and agreed I should take time off to try and sort things out.

I was about to ring father’s office to make an appointment to see Mr. Smyth-Anderson, the member of their firm who specialised in “Family Law,” when an inspiration came to me. I dialled the work number of my mole inside the offices where Gloria worked. I had not heard from him since he told me about what Gloria hoped for by “coming across” for her executive lover.

When he came on the line and I identified myself, I hardly needed to ask him anything. He was bubbling over to tell me the latest Gloria news.

It came to this: Gloria had moved in with her would be benefactor. All went well for a while but the promised advancement was not forthcoming. Gloria got increasingly, as he put it, “Uppity”. “You could have cut the atmosphere between them with knife,” he said.

Then a new girl had started work in the office, apparently with more charms than Gloria as far as the gentleman was concerned. In no time at all Gloria was out and the new girl was in, and, it seemed, with the same offer of career advancement that Gloria had received.

It seems that the senior executive had played this game several times before and had frequently shuffled back and forth between his long suffering wife and family and the latest target female in the office.

The Company Board had finally had enough of his office philandering that had caused a number of emotional disruptions in the workplace, so they dumped him. His wife also, having had enough, started divorce proceedings. Gloria had retained her job, but only just.

I spoke next to Mr. Smythe-Anderson my “Family” legal advisor, and made an appointment to see him. Leaning on the special privilege afforded me because he was a colleague of my father’s; I got to see him that morning.

There were three clear areas for discussion: Divorce from Gloria, which could be easily effected after twelve months separation; Property settlement with Gloria; Custody of Sam and visiting access; Retrieval of Jamie from the clutches of his grandparents and his restoration to Aine. 




A Christmas Play



It was a long interview which, had I been paying, which I was not, would have started to run up a very steep bill. Thank God – there I go again – for a solicitor father.

Smythe-Anderson hummed and hawed for a while, obviously trying to sort out which aspect to tackle first. He started with the divorce.

“Ah, hem, er…easily fixed unless you cohabit with her before the twelve months is up. Don’t let her back into the house or anything like that. Keep away from her as much as possible.”

I told him I had no intention of cohabiting with Gloria, so he went on to the next aspect.

“Ah, as to property matters; she does have a claim on you and if you decide to remain in the house, the court would no doubt award her a payout from you. Say, around half the value of the property, depending on how the court weighs up what each of you have contributed. The alternative is for you to move out and let her have the place, in which case she would have to pay you.”

I told him my preference was to stay put and he nodded and said, “Have to see what she’s got to say, probably through her solicitor by the sound of things.”

“Now, ah, er, as to Samantha.” He stopped and blew his nose, then went on, “Ah, could be… er…er touchy. Sure you want custody?”

I told him I certainly did.

“Well, if Gloria turns nasty and demands custody, could have a bit of fight on our hands. Men and women are supposed to be equal in these matters, but the Family Law Court still tends to favour the woman. Ah, however, ah, given the circumstances, things might work in your favour.”

“As to the question of the son, well, don’t want to er…er dwell on the past but…ah, ah, but it could be touchy, very touchy. However, if the grandparents who have the boy at the moment are denying access, might get a court order to fix that. Actually they have no real legal status in the matter since there was no, as it were, signing over of the boy to them in the first place. Of course, Aine should talk to me, or another solicitor, since you have no real status in the matter at present. I take it you intend to marry Aine?”

“Yes.”

“Could er…could weigh in her favour, married to a man of good character and all that. I take it you do have a good character?”

He gave a chuckle that sound like the opening of door with rusty hinges.

“I suppose so,” I replied.

“Yes, well, ha hum, the lady can see me almost any time she wishes since she works here, but I shall suggest to her we delay the matter until we’ve cleared up the other aspects.”

Poor Aine, it seemed that the restoration of Jamie to her was always being delayed. 

“So,” went on Smythe-Anderson, “We, ha hum, let divorce matters run their course, and wait to see what the lady does about property settlement and custody of Sam. As soon as anything happens, let me know.”

I did not have long to wait. A letter on impressive paper from the law firm of “Boot, Boot, Foot and Askew” arrived a few days later. It virtually demanded on Gloria’s behalf that I hand over the entire house and contents, or make a payment equivalent to the value. I was severely shaken by this demand as I had insufficient financial resources to meet the demand.

I took the letter to Smythe-Anderson who hummed and hawed again for a few minutes then said, “They’re trying it on. You notice it says nothing about Samantha. No demand for custody, not even a request for visiting access. I could be wrong, but I conjecture she’s blackmailing you. Without saying so she’s offering that you can keep Samantha if you hand over the property. I er…er shouldn’t worry too much as this stage, if I can see the game, so can the court. Leave it with me from now on and I’ll deal with matters through her solicitor, on your instructions of course. I’ll bet they won’t let it come to court.”

He gave his rusty chuckle again.

I thanked him and departed, and despite his suggestion not to “worry too much”, I worried.

Aine and I now slept together fairly regularly, a double bed having been provided by my mother and placed in Aine’s bedroom. I was growing impatient for the time I could take Aine to my home permanently. 

Having come to trust that I was not another sadomasochist, Aine was eager for sexual intercourse.  She was also increasingly open to the wider aspects of love making, like oral sex and some of the slightly more acrobatic couplings.

With Gloria I had always been aware that we were practicing sexual “techniques”, with Aine our coupling was far more natural and had a depth of meaning I had not experienced with Gloria.

If Aine was eager for sex, I was at times almost beside myself with desire for her. It was inevitable, given our circumstances, that there were many times when we could not be together, but I hungered for her.

It was not for sex alone I wanted her. I loved to be in her presence; to be near her and inhale her sweet woman aroma, to touch and hold her. 

Despite her growing boldness in sexual matters, she retained some of her shy manner. Ridiculous though it might seem given what I have just written, there was always something of the warm, tender and yielding virgin about Aine. Every time we coupled it was like a first time when if all has gone well you fulfil each other’s long dammed up needs. 

Even a couple of day’s separation from Aine now found me desperately ejaculating within seconds of entering her. This of course was followed a little later with a much longer coupling in which we could express our love rather than raw lust. 

This love and powerful drive for Aine was exacerbated a few days after my visit to Smythe-Anderson when, Aine and I just having finished making love, she announced cautiously, “I’m pregnant darling.” 

This came as no surprise to either of us since from the very first we had taken no precautions against her being fertilised.

My first response was to kiss her and tell her I loved her and was delighted. Aine somewhat timidly asked, “You don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind. We both new it was a possibility right from our first coming together.”

I paused and thought for a moment, then asked “Are you happy about it?”

“Yes, now I know it’s all right with you.”

Yes, it was all right with me, but I did have additional food for thought.


Chapter 19:  The Way Ahead.

The fact that Aine was pregnant injected a new urgency into the need to divorce Gloria and get the matters of property and Sam settled. I thought I’d better appraise Smythe-Anderson of the situation so I telephoned for an appointment.

“Ah, oh, yes, I was going to contact you. Got a response from her solicitor, ah, better come in and see me. Today if you like.”

When I saw him he had good news for me. Gloria was now willing to settle for a more reasonable sum of money and expressed no desire to have the house or contents. Better still, there was no mention of Sam.

When I voiced my satisfaction with the new situation Smythe-Anderson did his humming and hawing, then went on, “Of course, we could hang out for an even better deal, but I wouldn’t advise it. If we did hang out she might bring Samantha into the picture. Even though I suspect she doesn’t really want the child, she’s a useful pawn in her game. Wonder what happened to what they used to call, ‘motherly instinct’? Ah well…”

I told Smythe-Anderson about Aine’s pregnancy and he hummed for quite some time over that one.

Yes, well I er…I take it Gloria is unaware of your er…er…liaison with Aine?”

“As far as I know.”

“Try and keep it from her. Might give her a bit more ammunition if she found out, especially if she knew that Aine was er…er blooming, ha, ha. Must congratulate her, eh?”

I left feeling somewhat relieved even though the sum asked for by Gloria was beyond anything I possessed at that moment. It meant a remortgaging of the house, damn it, just when the place was nearly paid for!

Things moved with surprising rapidity, given the usual, as the bard put it, “Law’s delay.” 

I persuaded my bank manger into a remortgage, paid out Gloria and shortly after found myself in the family court seeking a divorce. Gloria didn’t even bother to show up. I was granted a decree nisi, and unless Gloria lodged an objection it would eventually become absolute.

I was still unable to marry Aine yet, but she finally moved in with me and Sam to our deep satisfaction. 

Aine seemed to have cast a spell of love over us; first my mother, then Sam and perhaps to my shame, then me. Even my usually undemonstrative father seemed captivated by her.

Smyth-Anderson had referred to Aine as “blooming”, and that was just what she was doing. She was clearly one of those fortunate women who were at their best when pregnant.  Following Smythe-Anderson’s metaphor, Aine seemed to blossom and glow. I don’t think she had ever looked lovelier. 

Smythe-Anderson warned me that Gloria could still at any time take action regarding Sam, but as time passed we heard nothing. 

The one delay was the matter of Jamie. Smythe-Anderson decided that it was time for Aine to apply for access to him. This had an unexpected outcome. Instead of the grandparents agreeing to access, they virtually handed over Jamie to Aine. 

The reason for this has never been made clear. Perhaps they felt they did not want all the problems of a child, and later a teenager in their latter years; or perhaps they knew that any legal tussle would probably end in Aine’s favour. Whatever their reasoning a simple telephone call from them to Smythe-Anderson informed him that Jamie would be delivered to my house…or rather, “our” house…at a date and time nominated by Aine.

This was not a good way to approach the matter, as we had wanted time for Jamie to get to know Aine again, and to adjust to my and Sam’s presence in her life, and of course, in his.

We were somewhat comforted when Sam, who had to be told that Jamie was coming to live with us, announced that she had told Jamie, and he was very excited. Sam was of course beside her self at the thought that Jamie whom she “wuved” would be with us.

On the day of Jamie’s arrival we were taken aback by the way in which he was delivered. A car drew up and Jamie got out and stood on the footpath. Suitcases and various boxes and packages followed. Then the car drew away leaving Jamie standing there.

“The bastards, the lousy bastards,” I burst out, and Aine ran from the house to Jamie. When she drew near typically of Aine, she hesitated as if afraid of rejection. Jamie stood with bowed head, but he extended his arms up towards her, and Sam and I who had held back heard him say, “Mummy.”

That did it. He was swept up into Aine’s arms and there was kissing and weeping. She carried him into the house. 

Sam asked, “Why is Lady crying, isn’t she happy to see Jamie?”

How to explain the mysterious ways of adults to a child? “Yes, she’s very happy darling, that’s why she’s crying.”

“But…?” Sam gave up trying to fathom the inscrutable ways of grown ups, and helped me carry in Jamie’s goods and chattels.

Now began that awkward period of Jamie settling in and, I suppose, we resettling in with him. Sam demanded to be allowed to show Jamie his room, and then came unpacking and putting away as Sam escorted Jamie round the house to introduce him to its various corners.

Almost a year before, at the school Christmas play, I had noticed an unexpected maturity in Jamie when he met me. Now there occurred another mark of that maturity.

I had not sought to impose my company on Jamie, but decided to let him come to me in his own time. It was about four hours after his arrival, and as I was doing some work in the garden, he approached me.

“How are you settling in, Jamie?” I asked. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you’ll like it here?”

“Yes.”

He stood looking at me for some time, and I felt impelled to find out what he wanted.

“Are you sure everything’s all right, I mean, is there something you want?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“I haven’t got a daddy.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I know why I haven’t got a daddy.”

“Oh?”

“I used to hear mummy screaming and crying.”

“That must have been terrible for you, Jamie.”

“I wanted to be bigger so I could stop him hurting mummy.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“I asked mummy and she says you’ll never hurt her, or me.”

“No, I’ll never hurt you or your mummy.”

“Do you love mummy?”

“Yes, I love her very much.”

He paused for another long period, and this time I did not break in on whatever he was thinking. When he did speak I nearly copied Aine and cried.

“I don’t have a daddy, so if I’m good will you be my daddy.”

He had asked this very solemnly and I responded with equal solemnity; “I shall be your daddy even if you are not good.”

“Shall I call you daddy?”

“Is that what you’d like to call me, Jamie?”

“Yes.”

“Then daddy it is.”

He extended a small hand for me to shake. It was the sheer grown upness of his gesture that was as moving as anything that had passed between us. I shook his hand and said, “It’s agreed?”

“Yes, I’ll go and tell mummy.”

He trotted off down the path to the house but stopped and turned back to stand before me again.

“You love Sam don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Will you love me?”

“Yes.”

He looked at me for a moment, smiled, and continued his journey back to the house leaving me choking with emotion.


Chapter 20: Love Came Down at Christmas.

Christmas was nearly upon us and with it another school play. Jamie and Sam did not play such prominent roles this time the former being a Wise Man and the later an Angel. “Mummy” and “Daddy” duly attended the event, and because the children were marginally older, they might also be said to have improved in their acting skills, marginally. 

Gina Wallace was present at the performance and was clearly flustered about seeing Aine and I together. Perhaps she was upset because I hadn’t taken her advice at the last performance to stay away from Aine.

The same principal made substantially the same speech as the previous year, and we engaged in the same sort of bun fight after the play, and showered praise upon our little thespians.

The grand finale to our year of love and turmoil came, not through any of the people involved. It came during the service of Carols and Nine Lessons that our family attended once more.

The children’s hymn “Away in a Manger” was being sung again and it was during the line that had so affected me the previous year, “Stay by my side until morning is nigh.” I glanced at Aine and the two children, and I heard that damned voice in my head again: “I knew I could leave it up to you.”