Previously…

I stood up saying, ‘Olivia, I wish you and the baby well for the future. Tell your father that we have recordings of my conversation with his representative which we won’t hesitate to use if he threatens me, my family or my friends. Do you understand?’

‘But Daddy wouldn’t––’

‘Daddy would,’ I interrupted quickly. ‘I’m going now; my friends are waiting and we have a long drive home.’

‘But your home is here,’ she said, standing up.

‘Not any longer.’ I took the front door key out of my shoulder bag and placed it on the coffee table. ‘I won’t be needing this any more. Goodbye, Olivia.’

‘But––’

‘Goodbye.’

I turned away, walked out of the room and out of her life. Making my way down the drive, my legs were trembling and I found it very hard to hold things together. As Tom, I would never have dared to have spoken to her like that. For far too long I had been repressed and lacking in self esteem. Now, as Samantha, I was a much stronger individual, but I hoped not hard. I felt for Olivia and the mess that she had got herself into, but I couldn’t live her life for her and I needed to be Samantha and let go of my past.

The others watched me as I got back into the bus and strapped myself in. Abby, sitting next to me, held my hand. As we moved off, I looked back at the house. Olivia was standing in the doorway holding her bump and just staring. I gave her a small wave, but she didn’t wave back.

And now the story continues…

That image of Olivia standing on her own remained in my mind’s eye for ages after we drove away. Part of me wanted to go back and give her a hug, not because I loved her any more, but because I felt that she probably needed a shoulder to cry on and looked so lonely and forlorn standing there.

I was especially concerned about the baby, but didn’t know if there was anything I could do. I wondered if it was Nigel that wanted her to have the child for some reason–perhaps to continue the dynasty or something–otherwise she might have had the pregnancy terminated. There was a time I would have thought her strong: now I only saw her as weak and under her father’s thumb. Maybe I was wrong about that and it had all been her idea. Did she really want the baby or was she trying to influence me because she knew that that was the one thing I desired most of all when we were married? I thought I knew her, but obviously I didn’t.

The journey home was long and wearisome. We were all tired, so we stopped off for an hour at a service station, risking food poisoning by eating a snack in the cafeteria–cardboard would have been more tasty!

Not much was said to me about my chat with Olivia and I was pleased that they respected my silence. I knew I would probably unburden myself to Abby in bed, when we finally got home but, for now, I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself.

We were lucky to have a number of drivers who could take turns at the wheel; otherwise we would have had to spend a night at a soulless hotel. Once again they wouldn’t let me drive for the same reason as previously–I was too upset and unable to think straight.

It was gone two o’clock in the morning when we finally arrived home. We wearily got out of the bus, transferred the paintings to my studio and after a lot of hugs, thanks and yawns, we parted company.

I locked up my house and went hand in hand with Abby to Jellicle Cottage, Abby’s lovely home. She wanted to check that the cats were okay and there was no way I was sleeping alone that night––

As usual, the cats treated us as they always did; a quick hello and then back to their normal business of sleeping/hunting/washing/eating and more sleeping–not necessarily in that order!

I now kept a stash of clothes at Abby’s house, as she did in mine. So it didn’t take too long to get undressed, chip off the makeup, and get into bed. We were both too tired to discuss what had happened so we just kissed goodnight and I spooned into her lovely warm silk-covered back. I was asleep in seconds.

I awoke the next morning, surrounded by cats but no Abby. When I say “surrounded”, I mean three cats were snuggled up against me and Abby wasn’t. There were some crockery type noises coming from the general direction of the kitchen. I yawned, stretched and struggled to get out of bed without disturbing the cats. I needn’t have worried as they were doing very good impressions of being out for the count.

I padded into the necessarium to do the necessary and then after looking at my furry tongue and bloodshot eyes, I realised that I needed an infusion of Arabica coffee, so I followed my nose and sure enough Abby’s swish little espresso machine was making a glorious aroma on the work-top and Abby was doing things with a cornflake packet. She glanced up as I came in.

‘Hi, honey, I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.’

I went over and gave her a quick kiss. ‘I always make such a mess when I have brekky in bed and crumbs always find their way into the most inconvenient crevices.’

‘Eeew! Too much information. Let’s go out on the patio then.’

I helped carry the breakfast things outside and we were soon tucking into the cornflakes, toast and marmalade and of course, the coffee.

We discussed the previous day’s events as we ate our leisurely breakfast overlooking the lily pond. It was so peaceful there and a thousand miles away from the angst of yesterday. There were a few ducks on the pond, quacking as they do and no doubt keeping an eye on the cat. I swear it was the ginger tom–Biscuit–who was crouching, tail twitching, no doubt wondering if it was worth getting wet for a possible breakfast snack. Butterflies, dragonflies, moths and other insects were in abundance and the water lilies in the pond were still in bloom, giving a wonderful splash of colour to the scene.

‘Samantha!’

‘Oh sorry, you said something?’

‘You looked like you were away with the fairies then. I asked how you feel after meeting Olivia yesterday?’

‘Sad, I suppose. I was taken aback see that she was actually pregnant. I had thought that it might just have been one of her stupid mind games. Then she seemed so disappointed that I didn’t just cave in on the spot and go back to her.’

‘You’re stronger than that, honey.’

‘I am now, but a few months ago, I might have succumbed. I didn’t know her at all, did I? I feel really stupid, being taken in and used like that. The strange thing is, I think in her twisted mind, she does love me, but only on her terms that I’m not prepared to accept, especially now I’ve found you. I don’t know how I could have gone through all this without you; and I don’t think I recognised what real love was until I fell in love with you.’

I felt tears slide down my cheeks and got a lump in my throat.

‘Oh, come here, love.’ She opened her arms and I got up and went to her…

It was some time later, lying in each other’s arms in bed that I finally felt better about things. We had made gentle love–no aggression, just sweet, happy, sensuous love. I got up on my elbow and with my other hand, stroked a pert nipple. She looked at me with a slight smile playing on her lips.

‘Happy?’ she asked.

‘Mmm, it’s lovely being here like this and I…oh bugger!’ I sat up in bed.

‘Wassermatter?’

‘Dawn and the gang are coming today and I completely forgot!’

‘Oh yes, they’re coming to look for a place to live, aren’t they?’

‘Yes and then they’re coming back to mine and I need to clean up and get food in and––’

‘Sam.’

‘–Then, I have to speak to Katie and Jocasta to thank them and––’

‘Sam.’

‘–Then I–what?’

‘Cool it. Firstly, I had a feeling that you were going to be in a state this morning, so I rang Mrs Pearson from the service station yesterday and she’ll be cleaning up your place as we speak. Secondly, I also asked her to get some supplies in–food and stuff. I told her what you like and I think she said no problem, but her accent’s thick as clotted cream, so you may not get everything; and thirdly, I have booked a table for lunch at a little restaurant around the other side of the cove. It’s called the Beachcomber Restaurant and they do gorgeous steaks and burgers for the kids.’

I just gazed at her in awe; my flabber had never been so gasted. I shook my head.

‘What?’

‘You are soooo perfect, are you real?’

Her face went blank and, in a monotone she said, ‘We are The Borg, resistance is futile; you will be assimilated so that you can be like us. We are The Borg––’ She couldn’t keep it up and then started giggling.

Then we did a most un-Borg like thing–and that kept us busy for another half an hour.

Eventually, we had to get moving and after a quick shower together–to save water, naturally–we went our separate ways: Abby to open the pottery and I to my cottage to sort things out for the impending visitors. I was looking forward to seeing Dawn, Adrian, Hayley and Timothy and I really hoped that they could find somewhere to live, here.

As I let myself in, Mrs P was leaving. ‘Hello, Mrs. Pearson. Thanks so much for helping out.’

‘’S’or ri’, m’dear, tis nothin’, going downalong to fix father’s dinner.’

‘Riiight, okay, thanks again.’

‘All right’m.’ With that, she put on her hat and coat–even though it was hot out there–and hurried off down the lane.

I closed the door and went to the kitchen. I had a bit of a thirst so I had a glass of water. Just as I set the glass back on the kitchen table, there was a bang on the door.

Thinking that it might be the family, I quickly went to answer it. On opening the door, I found the strange lady who talked in riddles standing there looking myopically up at me. She was wearing exactly the same clothes as before and I wasn’t too sure if she had washed today.

‘Can I help you?’ I asked.

‘Time and tide waits for no man. A small surprise awaits thee at the harvest festival, a time of happiness and tragedy. Your strength comes from within. Use it wisely.’

She nodded and then, after teetering down the steps, tottered off down the lane. Shutting the door, I wondered what she was on, but whatever it was, it wasn’t working right.

I put the weird woman and her ramblings out of my mind as I had a look around to see what Mrs Pearson had been up to. The place was spotless and on opening the fridge, I saw some milk, eggs and cheese. Also, there were some fresh cream cakes. I was tempted, but no, I was strong and just salivated for a few seconds before shutting the fridge door firmly. The bread bin had a nice farmhouse loaf in it and also some buns, which on close inspection looked sticky. We wouldn’t go hungry then!

After checking the time, I went upstairs to get changed. Keeping it simple I just put on a yellow strappy top and a shortish white skirt. I brushed my hair and then freshened my lippy. Finally I slipped on some white sandals and I was ready. I wasn’t sure how long Dawn and the others would be, so I went to my studio and had a look at a few of the paintings I had brought back with me yesterday.

I suppose about fifty percent were watercolours, the others being either oils or acrylics. As regards the subject matter, there were masses of country scenes and several portraits of animals and people at play. I liked the fluidity of movement in some of my works and also the changing seasons that I had been able to capture in others. I knew I was good–why did I ever listen to Olivia and stop painting?

At the back was a canvas covered with a cloth. I removed the cloth and there she was–Olivia. I had painted her shortly after we had become lovers. She was in the nude; I didn’t normally paint nudes, for one thing, I was uncomfortable with them and for another, it was not my forte. However, looking at Olivia, draped smilingly on a red velvet couch, I knew that I had captured her as I remembered her in the heady days before things went sour. She was looking straight at me, a slight smile playing around her red lips. Her breasts–always a good feature–were pert and young. Her smooth skin seemed alive and youthful. Her position was provocative and extremely sexy––

And yet, somehow, she seemed vulnerable, as if she was trying too hard to be the perfect woman. I hadn’t felt it like this when I originally painted her. Perhaps I had read something unconsciously and had transferred my feelings to the canvas and now, after all the terrible traumas that had happened, I was able see the portrait in this new light.

Sadly, I covered up the painting, not knowing whether to send it back to her or destroy it. I sighed as I turned to the other paintings and sorted them out into ones that I would like to hang in my gallery at the start and those I would hold in reserve to be displayed later.

Suddenly, I had a thought and rang Jocasta. ‘Hi, Jo, thanks again for being so helpful yesterday.’

‘That’s alright, love, all part of the Gotobed service.’

‘Look, David has a parish magazine, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes and I’m the hard bitten and crusty editor. Have you got any tit-bits for me to put in? Juicy and slightly scandalous, like the time that a certain parishioner swapped her Eccles cakes in a competition for shop bought ones. The shock was horrendous and still reverberates round the village, even now.’

‘Oooh that sounds interesting. We must have a chat about that when I next see you. No, it’s just that I am going to be opening my gallery soon and I want it put about that I am willing to show works of art for other artists on a commission basis.’

‘Oh you did mention that before. I’ll write something pithy and let you see it before publishing. The next thrilling edition will be going out at the end of next week, so I’ll have to get cracking.’

‘Okay, honey, I have to get going now as my tribe will be descending on me soon.’

‘Is that Dawn and Adrian?’

‘Yes and the children.’

‘We must meet up soon.’

‘Yes, that will be nice. I sooo hope they find somewhere to live here.’

‘Yes, the more the merrier I say. Anyway, speak to you soon–and, Sam, don’t be a stranger.’

‘I won’t. Oh, I need to go to the salon again next week, fancy coming with me?’

‘Erm, yes, okay.’

‘Not still worried about hairdressers, are you?’

‘Not as much as before, but with you holding my hand, I’ll be okay. David adored my hair after last time and got somewhat excited that night, so I think more of the same might be nice.’

We both giggled and after saying goodbye, I had a look at Fifi’s portrait. It was almost finished, but I needed to fill in the background a bit more and I wasn’t a hundred percent happy about the colour of the drapes behind her. However, before I could think any more about it, I heard a tattoo on the front door knocker.

I hurried downstairs and opened the door.

‘Auntieeee!’ I was mobbed instantly by my squealing nephew and niece and after nodding a brief hello to Dawn and Adrian, I was dragged upstairs by the aliens.

‘Can we go to the beach?’

‘I’m hungry, have you got a pasty?’

‘You’re fat.’

‘Not as fat as you, pudding!’

I sighed happily as I watched them jumping up and down excitedly in front of me. It was wonderful to be part of a proper family again.

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.