6 comments/ 17593 views/ 3 favorites Leaving... Ch. 01 By: Englands Dragon Co-authored – englander1961 and Writingdragon Englands Dragon is the joint name for two authors who post here on Literotica, who post as englander1961, and WritingDragon. "Leaving ..... " © Englands Dragon July 2005. The authors would welcome comments and criticisms at either of their email addresses - either englander1961 OR WritingDragon The authors gratefully acknowledge the great help in editing given by 'Denise' and 'Will.' The authors acknowledge the words used in the song "Leaving on a Jet Plane" written by John Denver and performed by Peter, Paul and Mary. This work may not be copied to or used at any other site without the express permission of the authors in writing. Chapter 1 The Boeing 747 lifted off the runway at Heathrow International Airport, its engines powering the massive plane into the clear blue morning sky. As it made its way west towards the United States with 300 people aboard, Megan MacLean looked out of the window, lost in her thoughts. Her fellow passengers would see a mature, seemingly confidant woman in her mid twenties, five foot five inches tall and one hundred and ten lbs, blue eyes and brown hair with naturally auburn tints cut to her shoulders in an 'easy' style. There was a slight 'wave' but not curly and needed minimal grooming. Not beautiful, but with a pleasantly direct and intelligent look. Her apparently confidant look concealed a mind full of doubts and uncertainties. Why, she agonised, was she getting cold feet now? This wasn't some foolish decision she had made on the spur of the moment, she'd been mulling it over for some time. Muttering to herself under her breath, "How has my life become so complicated in four short years?" she sat back in her seat with a heavy heart. The man she was travelling to see, the man she loved, had no idea she was on her way to tell him goodbye. Her mind drifted back to her first sight of him six years ago; it was her second week at Queen Anne's College, University of North Norfolk, England, where she would be reading for her degree in English with American studies. As a young teenager her dream had been to pursue a career in international journalism or some form of media, and her University advisor had steered her towards a new and unusual module. A visiting American Professor would offer study in "The Americanization of the English Language." Megan had walked into class on the first day half expecting to see some tall, lanky, dowdy, solemn, grey haired old professor reminiscent of James Stewart, peering out at the students over a pair of half lens professor-like reading spectacles. The man who greeted her, as well as every other student, with a handshake as they entered, was not quite what she had expected. He wasn't tall or lanky. Dowdy, yes. Slightly unkempt, yes. But a professor who looked to be in his early thirties. His brown eyes were the colour of liquid milk chocolate which, had he been a dog, would have made her want to stroke him and pull his ears. Not exactly good-looking, but not bad! When the students were seated he picked up his notes, reached into his jacket pocket, took out a pair of half lens professor-like reading spectacles, perched them on the tip of his nose and peered over them at his students. Megan couldn't resist giggling as his spectacles confirmed his dry, dusty professor-like image to her. She lowered her eyes as she fought to control herself. The class went deathly silent. Megan's friend dug her in the ribs with an elbow before she managed to stop. When she looked up the professor was looking directly at her. "My name," he said in a rich baritone voice, with a southern States intonation - Megan smiled to herself, the way he said 'Mah,' sounded so cute. Clearing his throat, he started again. "My name is Dr Andrew Scotsdale; I am currently a Professor at Crestin University in Hinsdale New York, where I teach Humanities, English and its history. Each year Crestin University sends a group of students to London to study British Literature as well as exchanging visiting professors. I am working with Queen Anne's College on such a three year instructor exchange program. Please call me Andrew if you wish, but I do not care at all for the nickname 'Andy.' If the young lady with the sense of humor would care to share the joke with us, I would most welcome it. I must improve my understanding of English Humor. Now perhaps I might know your name?" Megan was mortified. What a beast! No sense of humour obviously. She felt humiliated but stood defiantly, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "Professor Scotsdale," she stressed the formality of his name, "My name is Megan MacLean and you may call me Miss MacLean." She sat. She couldn't, she damn well wouldn't tell him why she had giggled. "Thank you, Miss MacLean. I am very happy to have you in my study group," he said in a dry tone. "I have the list of my students here and perhaps you will each introduce yourself as I call your name." The formalities over, he began. "Now for the next thirteen weeks all ya all's unnerstandin' of proper English is fixin to get innerestin." Giggles and laughter floated through the room. He stiffened in mock indignation and responded to the outburst, "What? Was it something I said?" He made eye contact with all of them slowly as he continued speaking about the course. Megan relaxed and began to take notes. She thought he really is quite innerestin, smiling at how easy the twist in pronunciation was to pick up. Leaving... Ch. 01 Andrew spotted the sprigs of grey-green leaves and pearl-like berries tied in a small bundle to a beam that separated the hallway from the living room. Now, after Lachlan introduced his mother and father, Mrs. Grace and Mr. Hector MacLean, Andrew noticed Megan standing unwittingly beneath the green leaves of opportunity. Andrew turned quickly and faced Megan who gave out a little cry as he whirled to face her. "Yes Andrew, what is it?" she asked in a startled voice. Quoting from one of his favorite comedies 'Scrooged' he pointed to the beam over her head and whispered, "It's a law you know, a Federal law in the States, now I have to kiss you." Megan looked up at the mistletoe hanging above her head then at Andrew as she heard him say he would have to kiss her. She felt goosebumps and a frisson down her spine. She didn't know why her mouth and throat were dry. All she could do was nod her head. Yet, he still asked her, "Megan, may I kiss you." Again her head nodded. He bent forward and she closed her eyes as his lips touched hers. He covered her whole mouth for a long moment, felt the soft acceptance and tasted the sweetness of her. It was longer than the chaste kiss one would give a close family member, but not quite so long as to be considered improper or impolite. As the kiss ended he moved back and Megan was sure fireworks had gone off all around her. Opening her eyes she looked up into Andrew's face; he had the dumbest grin she had ever seen and a slight redness on his cheeks. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned to see her mum standing just a few metres away looking at the two of them, her eyes bright with mirth. Kate had watched Andrew claim his right to kiss Megan under the mistletoe. He had even asked permission - as any true gentleman would. Kate could see in her daughter's eyes after the kiss that Megan had given her heart to the gentle man standing in front of her. Kate's own heart jumped for joy as she watched the revelation dawn in Megan's face. Megan looked away from Andrew at her mum, quickly pointing up at the beam she mumbled, "Mistletoe..." Kate made an amused and disbelieving grimace and shrugged her shoulders, then smiled at her daughter. Megan felt the blush move up her body and suddenly her face and ears were red, her whole body flushed with heat. She looked over at her dad and grandparents. All three of them were looking her way with a knowing smile on each face. Trying once again to explain herself she pointed up at the beam and said, "It's the mistletoe dad." Lachlan picked up a car rug, spreading it over his mother's legs then looked at Megan nodded and replied, "Yes darling that is mistletoe, as well you know, now help your poor old mum to serve tea, please." Megan said, "Excuse me," to Andrew and followed her mum into the kitchen while Andrew joined everyone else in the living room, his own blush only slightly less evident than Megan's. He sat in one of the chairs offered by his host and joined the conversation. Later that night they walked to the midnight service at the village Church, The Church of St Peter and St Paul. It was old; Megan told Andrew building had commenced in 1310. Local people filled the pews and listened with respect to their Vicar, then sang the hymns of reverence, praise and thankfulness with uninhibited gusto. The Church was blessed with a good organ, a hand-me-down from a richer church which had its organ replaced with a new one in the 1880's. The music, which resonated majestically, seemed to be absorbed by the ancient stones, then given back enriched by the encounter. As they sat following one of the hymns, taking advantage of the brief murmurs and the rustle of the congregation being seated, Kate pointed to the large stone font, now covered with an ancient oak lid, and whispered to Andrew "that's where Megan was Christened." For a split second he seemed outside his body, looking down on a young couple with a baby wrapped close in her woolen family shawl in the arms of the Vicar. The cool cross was made on her forehead and the baby smiled and opened her eyes. Blue eyes. Megan's eyes. Looking at him across the years. He shivered and squeezed his eyes tightly then shook his head, vaguely disoriented for a moment. "I will marry her one day in this Church", echoed in his head, just like the music echoed from the stone walls. Leaving... Ch. 02 Megan shook herself out of her daydream when the Flight Attendant asked if she wanted coffee. "What? I'm sorry, my mind was miles away." Looking at the coffee pot in the attendant's hand she said, "Oh yes, cream but no sugar, thank you." Sipping her coffee Megan kept hearing the song she had heard in Heathrow's departure lounge as she waited to hear her flight called. "I'm leaving on a jet plane don't know when I'll be back again. Oh Babe... I hate... to go." The deep sense of longing that those words invoked. It was as if the singer had been crying out from the depths of her soul. The words, which Megan had heard many times, had an almost haunting quality about them now. Before boarding her plane at Heathrow airport she was sitting in the departure lounge when a mother sat down beside her. She had twin girls, no more than nine or ten years of age, who were dressed in white blouses and tartan skirts, proudly Scottish. Their hair was short-cropped and softly auburn, their eyes storm grey. What caught Megan's attention was the way they were arguing; one child was sitting on the bench seat beside her mother while her sibling stood defiantly in front of her, hands on hips glaring in the face of her sister. "You're wrong Kirsty, being a woman in a profession is better, like Daddy. That's why I'm going to be a Doctor. Boys are stupid and horrible and...and..." "You can be whatever you want Lizzy, but I'm going to be like Mummy and have children and a husband. So there! You can work your silly fat head off at school and things for all I care. I don't have to do what you tell me just because you're ten minutes older. I bet one day you'll be really, really, sorry, and I bet you'll be like our teacher, all miserable, and dried up like a prune. I bet all she's got is class work and teaching." "Now you two stop squabbling and settle down. Apologise to the lady and read your books" their mother sharply told them. She looked at Megan and raised her eyebrows, grinning ruefully. "I'm so sorry. You wouldn't believe they are great friends would you?" The girls had both said "sorry Ma'am" and promptly scurried off to explore. "I think they're sweet, and I see we share the same tartan. I'm MacLean too. My Mother went to my Gran's home in Ayr to have me so I can claim to be a true Scot," Megan laughed "but afterwards she brought me back to England and I live there still." "You're MacLean? Goodness what a coincidence. My husband's a surgeon and attending a conference in New York City. We're going to spend a few days with him. Are you taking a holiday there or do you have business?" "Actually I'm visiting my fiancé." Megan's heart seemed to contract at the thought that she soon would end that relationship. "He, ... he's a Professor at Crestin University in New York State. Actually he has tenure there." 'Oh god,' she thought as her eyes prickled, 'I love him so much. Here I am bragging about him and I know I'm going to hurt him terribly.' Again the song that tortured her was playing in her mind .........'Every place I go, I'll think of you...Every song I sing, I'll sing for you...When I come back, I'll wear your wedding ring...' But she knew that wasn't to be. A tear slid, unfelt, unnoticed down her cheek. "Miss MacLean? Are you quite alright? Are you troubled?" Megan stood and ran to the ladies rest room. She locked herself in a stall and cried, her tears now unchecked, her throat painfully tight as she tried to stifle her tears. There was a tentative tap on the door. A soft Scottish voice was again asking, "Miss MacLean, please, can I help you? After all, we are both MacLean." Megan savagely pulled sheets from the dispenser, dabbed at her eyes and wiped her cheeks. She tried to breathe deeply, calmly. Giving a little sniffle, she stood and opened the door. The mother was standing there and she held out her arms. Megan's resolve crumpled and she went to her then wept on her shoulder. "There, there. Shhhhh, shhhhh there now, there" she soothed while gently stroking Megan's shoulder. "I'm Helen. What's your name?" she asked in her soft Scottish lilt. "Megan" she replied in a strangled voice. "Well, Megan I'm a great believer in a nice cup of tea when things seem wrong. Come along now." She took charge as only a mother of young children can when emotions boil over. They sat quietly and sipped their tea until Megan was calm again. She felt she owed Helen an explanation for her embarrassing loss of control. "Helen, I said 'my fiancé' but I'm going to break off our understanding and I know how hurt he will be." "Oh. Oh dear me. Is it because you live so far apart?" "Not really. You see, like one of your daughters, I'm set on a career that I've dreamed about since her age. I can't give it up now. I do love him. I love him so much I couldn't just write to him. He deserves better than that. I HAVE to tell him myself. Helen I'm hurting inside." "And the career you want can't be followed in America?" "I, well honestly I don't know I've only thought about UK based to start with, and then I might have to travel all over the world you see." "Hmmmm. Well it's your business and I certainly can't advise you. But, Megan, in life, single or married, there are dreadful hurts and anguishes over the horizon waiting to ambush you. We women don't feel things the same way as men do. We feel and experience things totally differently. What we want, sometimes what we need can't be gained alone. Most of us need someone else at times. Not selfishly, not to use, but to be with, to cherish. We always hope that it will be with someone who feels the same way about us. One day you may feel, your body and your emotions may almost demand that you hold your own child in your arms and say he is MINE. Except of course it's handy to have a man around when you feel like that!", and Helen laughed. "If you are sure, quite certain in your own mind that you must end your friendship, then you must. BUT, why not, instead of saying bluntly that you cannot marry him, why not talk to him about your hopes and fears. Not just careers, not just 'I want' or 'I need.' If, as you say, you love him deeply, and if he feels as you do, don't lightly throw that away. Listen to your woman's heart as well as your mind. Maybe you can talk with him about what you both want and need. The path of love has many twists and turns and is seldom edged by pretty flowers, and the very best of love will want compromise by both of you at times. I hope you don't think I'm interfering or being impertinent." Megan shook her head as she thought over her clansman's advice. Their flight was announced, Helen rushed to gather her children and they boarded separately. Leaving... Ch. 02 Now that she had made decision her mind cleared, and at last she could sleep. Leaving... Ch. 03 So there she was. Flying towards utter misery with those haunting words ripping her heart apart .... now the time has come to leave you ... one more time let me kiss you. Megan's flight to Kennedy International Airport had been a blur. She knew she had another flight to Albany, then by car to Hamilton in the middle of the state where Crestin University nestled in a quiet valley. At long last the Jumbo gently touched down, the engines screamed in reverse thrust and the pilot slowly skillfully brought them to the Terminal. Megan helped Helen with the children as they departed the plane. They exchanged addresses and phone numbers and Helen hugged and kissed Megan on the cheek, "Goodbye my 'clansman' I hope you will listen with your heart and pray it will lead you to happiness." They waved as Helen and the girls disappeared into a line waiting to be processed through customs. Megan passed through customs on her way to the domestic departures concourse where she would wait to board her connecting flight. She had flown into Kennedy three times and these passageways with their bright colors and multitude of different advertisements were always amazing, but now very familiar to her. She moved along smartly until she saw two groups of video monitors with the words "Departures" and "Arrivals" printed above their respective passageways. She identified her flight and moved quickly to her departure gate where she sat staring across the concourse walkway into the adjacent gate. A man, a woman and a small child, no older than four, were huddled together with some sort of turmoil swirling around them. Megan tried to focus on other people but the obviously tearful goodbye kept drawing her back to them. The woman was dressed in a business suit and was holding her daughter in her arms. The little girl was clinging onto her mommy's neck crying, her husband holding both of them. To her surprise Megan could hear part of what they said, "It's mommy's last trip baby she will be working in town from now on. I promise you baby she won't ever leave you again." The child was sobbing and her mother was silently weeping as daddy took the little girl from her mother's arms to comfort her. The woman tried her best to compose herself then kissed her husband with a passion that ignored any watching passengers. She pulled back from her lover, a look of pain crossing her young face. Megan could imagine her parting words as if she whispered them into her own ear. "So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you'll wait for me, Hold me like you'll never let me go... Oh, babe, I hate to go." The woman looked deeply into her husband's eyes, touched her daughter's face, then turned, picked up her briefcase and entered the tunnel to board the plane. The child held onto her daddy, her face streaked with tears as he moved down the concourse and away from the plane. Megan sat and fought back the tears welling up in her eyes. 'Oh god, what do want of me? You gave me a heart to love with. You gave me Andrew to love. But you first gave me a mind and a drive to succeed in whatever I set my mind to.' As she closed her eyes to compose herself she heard her flight called. She saw Andrew's handsome face and heard again those words. "Hold me like you'll never let me go ... " Leaving... Ch. 03 The following day she quietly carried all of her clothes into Andrew's room. Andrew had already told Megan that if his Momma and Dad didn't like you, they had no bones about telling you so. Megan had told Andrew she had been so relieved when, as she and Andrew were leaving, Denise had invited her back with or without her son. Leaving... Ch. 04 Andrew stopped his daydreaming about the past; he was delighted by Megan showing up unexpectedly a few hours ago. His reminiscing was sweet but he knew that tomorrow he would be offering them a future together - an option to work out their constant separations. He was ready to have Megan become a permanent part of his life and carry on the traditions of both families in both countries and cultures. He looked over everything and quickly ran down a mental check list - Meat and cream sauce finished - green beans in the microwave - bread needing to be sliced - the noodles were almost ready for Megan - the wine was chilling and the table cleaned off and ready to be set. Once he took the noodles off he went upstairs to wake his lady love. Megan awoke feeling rested and happy as Andrew kissed her neck. She smiled looking up into those brown eyes brimming with love. He told her to get dressed and come downstairs and help him prepare for dinner. Megan joined Andrew in the kitchen and after a wet sloppy kiss helped him with the noodles and sliced the bread. She looked around thinking back to how Christmas was at both of their parent's homes. She remembered the Christmas she spent with his family. As she and Andrew drove up to the house Megan sat and stared at Bart and Denise's house and yard in awe. Innumerable multicolored lights were blinking and moving around the house, up and down posts and banisters on the porch and even through the shrubs and trees in the yard. The lights combined with wooden cutouts of different cartoon characters gave the yard a dream like aura. Caitlyn had run out and tackled Megan, the two of them frolicking in the snow looking at all the different decorations. As Andrew brought the bags inside Caitlyn said, "Well now my friend you are about to see me whip up on your beloved." "How so," Megan asked, mischief dancing on both girls' faces. Caitlyn bent over and made a dozen or so snowballs and put them in front of her, then held one in each hand. A few moments later Andrew and both his parents came out onto the big wrap around porch. Denise called out, "Megan would you come up here please?" Caitlyn whose eyes were on Andrew said, "You better go up there it's going to get real messy down here." Megan looked at her friend then quickly made her way up to the porch. Andrew looked around the yard as did Caitlyn then with a quick nod of both their heads he walked down the five steps and stood in front of the house. "Caitlyn," he shouted although his sister was only twenty feet away, "Save yourself the embarrassment this year and surrender..." His comments were cut short by a loud splat as a snow ball thrown by Caitlyn smacked Andrew in the chest. Caitlyn giggled, he turned slightly and brushed the snow off of himself then said, "Of course Madam you know this means war," quoting an old cartoon show. Moments later the riot was on and for the next twenty minutes the yard was filled with running, snow covered bodies. Snow balls were being thrown, then handfuls of snow being dumped on one another and bodies being rolled and covered in snow. Through it all Megan laughed herself to tears as Bart explained, "We don't really understand why, but every Christmas season that these two are together this little display occurs. It's been this way for 18 years but they refuse to perform unless we are here to enjoy watch the show." A few minutes later Caitlyn and Andrew, who were cold, wet and shivering wandered arm in arm to the porch, bowed, then headed inside to take showers and change into dry clothing. Megan and Denise followed Bart into the house. Much like her own home, the Scotsdale's had decorated the inside of theirs with the holiday's finest colors. It was the tree that caught her attention; it had to be twelve feet tall and at least that big around. But there was no space anywhere on that tree to put anything. Lights, and ornaments, and garland and tinsel were everywhere. The tiny lights slowly faded on and off as bubble lights, (which she soon found out they were called), gave the whole tree an illusion of upward movement. The presents in their multicolored packaging filled the bottom area underneath the tree and up both sides of the walls behind the tree. Only then did Megan smell the hot chocolate and cookies that Denise had brought out for everyone to share. When Caitlyn and Andrew showed back up Megan greeted them both warmly. Soon everyone was sitting looking at the big tree and catching up. Megan was so happy, "I only have a few more weeks of study, then time to find a job." Andrew smiled, "The quicker you get settled the quicker we can get settled." Megan looked at him cocking his head in an obvious signal she didn't understand. Andrew just said, "It can wait for now so just relax." Caitlyn mentioned, "By the way Megan we have four trees in the house, this one and three themed trees. They are smaller but one is an old fashioned tree, only handmade ornaments and antiques are on that tree. Then we have a Teddy Bear tree everything on that including the lights are teddy bears. Then lastly we have Dad's nautical tree. Since he spent five years in the US Navy everything is either nautical or sailing ship themed." Megan asked to see the other trees and Caitlyn proudly showed them to her. Andrew then showed Megan that all the women in the house had their own mistletoe. A large one for Denise, a medium one for Abigail, and two small ones for Caitlyn and Megan were hung in different doorways. Andrew kept pulling Megan to her doorway to ensure he could keep the Christmas spirit. Megan for her part was not complaining. "Megan" Caitlyn called "you are supposed to take a berry from the mistletoe each time you are kissed." "Not on your life" replied a laughing Megan. "This mistletoe plays by My Rules" and she beckoned to Andrew, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. For Megan, her experiences in the Scotsdale home were wonderful, but the crowds at the malls and supermarkets were disquieting she told Andrew, "All this last minute rushing and buying and crowding takes so much away from the heart of the season." Andrew waxed philosophical and replied, "Everything you do in life is a trade off. Some times those trades are easy, like making time for family. Sometimes they are hard, like dealing with the commercialism of the season." Megan and Andrew went out with a group of Caitlyn's friends and sang Christmas Carols door to door in different housing developments on two different nights. Megan sang so loud she was hoarse after the second day. Christmas Eve was a night for family. All of Bart and Denise's family sat down together and enjoyed a dinner of prime rib roast and mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, green beans and hot rolls. There was also a large assortment of pies for dessert. After dinner Caitlyn entertained everyone by playing the piano for the rest of the evening. Christmas morning the family gathered again. Denise had all the kids sit near the tree and Megan was thrilled for the children just watching their wide-eyed excited faces. The two grandkids were almost unable to control themselves as the gifts were handed out to everyone and they were allowed to open theirs. Lastly, the adults were able to open theirs too. Megan, without saying a word to Andrew, had brought parcels from England that she self consciously handed to each family member, shyly saying "Happy Christmas" to each one. For the children she had colouring books and pencils of Bob the Builder, Harry Potter and other English children's favourites. Her friend Caitlyn opened her slim parcel to discover musical scores, bound in leather, for English Church Organ Music. Her siblings received assorted Belgian chocolates, exotically made and beautifully presented with many containing varieties of liqueurs. Her gift to her hosts, Denise and Bart, revealed an Irish cut glass punch bowl complete with eight silver plated goblets and ladle. She kissed them both on their cheeks and said "I hope you like these. They say a special and permanent 'thank you' for making me feel so welcome, and giving me an American Home to come to." Andrew cleared his throat noisily. Getting no response he 'Harrumphed' again. Megan turned her innocent blue eyes on him "are you getting a cold?" she asked. He stood and walked menacingly towards her and Megan dodged behind her friend calling "save me, Caitlyn save me" while laughing her head off. Finally she gasped through her laughter "Andrew behave! Your present is upstairs in our bedroom." The whole family erupted into laughter and cries of "way to go." Megan suddenly realised what she had said and blushed scarlet. Andrew grinned and said "come on then. Up we go." "No, no ... I mean ... Andrew don't you DARE grab hold of me. I meant I haven't yet brought yours down here" and she ran out of the room. Moments later she reappeared, still blushing and handed a gift wrapped parcel to him. He hurriedly began to open it. It was protected by a hard case and he cautiously opened it. It was a studio portrait of Megan herself in a silver frame, robed in her academic gown, erect, serene and confident, her blue eyes seeming to smile at him and follow him wherever he might stand. There were "Ahhhs" from everyone. "Oh Meg." And he swept her into his arms and kissed her, much to the noisy delight of his family. After the gifts and a light snack of homemade coffee cake, Denise had everyone pitch in and help load the cars with food baskets, blankets, water jugs and other essentials as well as a few small toys and games. The caravan of four vehicles moved swiftly through the deserted streets to areas where homeless people were known to congregate. When they found people they stopped and passed out anything they had that could be of help including bringing them to shelters if someone requested it. It took three hours but all the goods were finally given out. On the way back home Megan asked Andrew, "How long has your family done this on Christmas Morning?" He smiled, "Since before I was born, and they run a network of about twenty-five other families around town that were out today also. This is important to them to share their abundance with others, on the one day the homeless feel the need the most." Megan held his arm, "I can't begin to tell you how full I am right now, my heart is just singing." "I know just how you feel." Andrew said as he turned into the driveway. Leaving... Ch. 04 Taking in a deep breath she let it out forcefully then looked again at the man slowly moving away from her. "Oh Donald, I have it all ...power, money, recognition in a man's world, but I know now, without you I have nothing, nothing at all." Megan was surprised as Elizabeth suddenly stood and walked hurriedly to the ticket counter "Are there first class seats on the Chicago flight you've just called. I now want to go to Chicago. I must catch that flight. Hurry, please it's very important." Megan heard the boarding announcement for her own flight, gathered her things and made her way towards her check-in area. As she approached the boarding gate the song echoed in her head one last time, "I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again, Oh Babe, I hate, to goooo!" She walked down the tunnel towards her plane with a deep foreboding, the voice of the woman singing the song etching the words into her memory. Repeating itself like a suddenly out of control tape player. Leaving... Ch. 04 "Well? Do I know him? How long's this been going on? Another professor who's fallen at your feet" he asked bitterly. Each question was a knife in her heart. She wanted to look up at him, but couldn't. Her constricted throat mangled out "It's a she. Not a he." He could make nothing of her words. "What did you say. Come on. You don't usually have trouble speakin' your mind." She flung her head back, defiant as she had been once before, her clan blood preferring fight to flight in the face of disgrace or danger. She shouted her words now "It's not a bloody HE. It's was a she." "She? You mean another woman?" His bafflement was clear in his voice. "Of course I mean another woman, they're called 'she' in America as well as England aren't they?" was her icy reply. Her disgust with herself over her stupid behaviour with Frankie was making her angry. She realised that she was taking her distress out on her Andrew. Although he might no longer be 'her Andrew.' "But you're not like that. How could you go and do that? It just isn't you. Who was it? One of your old Uni friends? What on earth made you want her like that?" He had every right to know. This was her final humiliation, and then she could be alone again. She had fallen from her pinnacle of joy and love to the broken rocks of total anguish. She must retain her dignity at least. She was MacLean. "It was Frankie." "Frankie? Your Political Science professor? The one with the blue eyes and sexy walk? I'm surprised you had the nerve, Megan. Wow." "Don't you dare 'wow' me Professor Scotsdale. It was she who ... I was ... we were ... look here, if you must know, she tried to seduce me" she said, partly in bravado and partly in shame. Andrew could sense how much her confession was costing Megan emotionally. He saw her attempt to conceal her distress. He realised how much nerve it had taken to tell him. Most of all he knew his love was only reinforced by her integrity and gritty courage. She need not have told him. He would never have known. He didn't know how he might have felt had it been a man. Disgusted? Yeah, definitely. The thought of ... no he wouldn't think of that. He couldn't think of his Megan willingly giving her precious and private gifts to another man's ... 'stop that damned train of thought, Andrew' he told himself. She hadn't, so he needn't think down that path. But another woman? He again reached out to her but she brushed him off. "Megan will you damn well stop that. Come here godammit you, you bloody woman you" and he pulled to him. "Look at me, girl. Now then, do you still see her?" "No, Andrew" was her miserable reply. "Do you still want to see her? Does she appeal to you?" "I've already told her. It was foolishness. I wrote to her. I told her she might want me, but she didn't ever need me. Not much really started, but it's finished now. I never want to be with her again. Ever." "Have you got the number of the Royal Carlton on your mobile?" Startled, Megan said "yes" "Phone it" he said "Phone it? she questioned. "Yes Meg, it's like calling the number? Putting a call in? Like saying 'hello is that the Royal Carlton?'" "But why?" "Because, my dearest most sexy most adorable woman who is going to be my sex slave for life, I am going to get you in bed and while I ravish your body you're going to tell me about every touch and tingle you felt with that ... that ... predator. Right? Got it?" Megan looked at him, seeing again the love in his face (and was there more than a touch of licentiousness in the way he was licking his lips?) She began to giggle, her happiness making her glow with the realisation of his forgiveness. She opened her shoulder bag, and while searching for her phone, put into his knowing and waiting hands, her purse, her comb, her hanky, her compact, her diary, her credit card case, her keys, her............... "Dammit Meg, not the kitchen sink in there as well? You women!" She smiled sweetly. "Here it is Andrew. Men are always so impatient, aren't they?" "Impatient? – I'll show you what impatience is when I get you alone", and he slapped her rump. "Hey Meg, don't forget I got to ask your Dad's permission I guess, even if I don't have to. I respect your parents too much not to. And we got to fix a date. Your church where you were Christened. And phone my folks and..." "Andrew" she said "will we ever get to this hotel? Or are you going to ravish me here in this car park?" The call was made. The room was booked. The anguish was over. Their love could at last begin again. Without doubts. Without reservations, But most of all, without secrets. EPILOG or EPILOGUE: In the Crestin College classroom the last assignment was being written on the board as a student called out "Dr. Scotsdale is this test tomorrow comprehensive?" Before the lecturer could reply, a second voice interrupted. "I'm sorry people but some things just can't wait." Dr Megan MacLean Scotsdale looked over to see her husband smiling broadly in the doorway, those big brown eyes and disarming smile melting her as always. She walked over and took her eighteen month old son from her husband's arms and kissed him, then turned towards the class where numerous giggles and laughs were disrupting the normal quiet of the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen" she said, "I would like you to meet my son, Ian MacLean Scotsdale." The little boy timidly hid his face in his mother's shoulder as the students called 'Hi Ian.' The youngster opened and closed his hand in a shy little wave as he cuddled up to her. "Furthermore that disreputable looking creature who so rudely interrupted us is my husband Professor Andrew Scotsdale and the father of our two adorable children. Now to answer your question Dawn, the test is on chapters three to five, so study hard. You need this understanding of basic British Monarchical and political structure for chapters nine through fifteen. Remember that unlike the USA, Britain does not have a written Constitution okay?" Looking around she saw no more questions forthcoming. "Right, Class dismissed." Making her way back to Andrew she asked, "Where's Susan?" The sheepish grin on his face turned into a grimace. "Over at the commons with your parents." "Andrew!" she exclaimed emphatically as she rolled her eyes in despair, "You left a four year old granddaughter alone with her two starry eyed grandparents near a junk food area? She'll be eating a Hot Fudge Sundae in no time. If her supper gets ruined you and I are going to have to talk." Andrew kissed her but his impish grin again filled his face, "I'm glad we learned to communicate. Besides it was a banana split Susan was eating when I left them ten minutes ago." Megan looked heavenward, "Oh noooooooo. And I bet my father was the culprit too. MEN, you're all as bad as each another." "Yep," the voice of a pretty young redhead said as she moved by them and out the door, "You can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em." Megan laughed and said, "Andrew just hold Ian while I get my books then we can go see what other mischief Susan and my parents are into." Moment's later arm in arm, with Ian on daddy's neck laughing and giggling, the lovers went in search of the trio of trouble.