~ Dwelling in the Past ~
by Fingersmith
fingersmith@hotmail.co.uk
© April 2005


Chapter Eighteen

Winterton- on- Sea lay on the East Norfolk coast. Beautiful, serene, eerily deserted. The cottage backed onto the dunes that framed the beach. Sloping hills added by Mother Nature to protect and serve. Coarse grass underfoot: dips and holes shaped to make any walker be constantly on their guard. Rumours about adders hiding in the long grass forced dog walkers to be ready at all times.

I was alone; just me and my thoughts of the future to keep me company.

I'd stopped at the local shop to purchase supplies for my stay; crusty bread, fresh vegetables, milk, but mainly alcohol, and lots of it.

By ten o'clock I was completely smashed out of my head, standing on the beach shouting Kate's name into the blackened sky. The sound of the sea drowned out my despair; it pulled it outwards only to send it crashing back to me, foaming, lifeless, on the shore.

Morning found me nursing a hang over from hell. My stomach had a fight with its contents - the contents lost … miserably.

I, too, was miserable. Aching head, legs, arms … aching everything. The echo inside my heart was the worst. It echoed her name, calling out to my soul, wherever it may have been.

There was no answer.

I picked myself up from the splattered mess I had become on the lounge floor; I needed to sort out my life once and for all. I needed to think about what I was going to do.

Swallowing rapidly, I raced to the bathroom. Round two of the match from hell was underway, and once again I thought my stomach would come out victorious.

It did. Unfortunately.

****************************************************

After breakfast, a shower and a thorough cleaning of teeth, I felt better. Alcohol and me had a past - I was renowned at Uni as 'half pint' because I couldn't take it. I wasn't a nasty drunk, or, usually, not loud, but I did suffer from a complaint called 'Homing Device' which turned itself on without me knowing. This meant one minute I was laughing and joking with my friends, the next, I was at home waking up in my clothes and the previous night's makeup designing art on my sheets. And the feeling of an empty birdcage at the bottom of my mouth.

Bless. What a picture. I looked like a zombie from Shaun of the Dead - especially around the eyes.

Never mind.

I hadn't brought my laptop with me, mainly because I needed to think things through. I couldn't go on living like this. I had to deal with what I was feeling.

I hunted around the cottage looking for a pen and paper. I should make a list - weigh up the pros and cons. Vigorous nodding of head - a short prayer for the miracle of aspirin - and I was off again.

Eventually, when my out of shape carcass sat down on the sofa, I felt foolish. How could anyone use a list to make decisions about their future? Big decisions. Big, life changing decisions.

I could.

Four hours and twenty-three minutes later, I was still none the wiser. I looked at the scribbled points I had made, both sides as equally full as the other.

I threw the pen down in disgust and went to make a cup of tea. You've got to love the British - any crisis - have a cuppa.

'Mr Prime Minister, Sir. The three minute warning has commenced.'

'Well, what are you waiting for, lad? Get the kettle on. And don't forget the Hobnobs.'

Two cuppas and a stack of biscuits later, I was still none the wiser. I threw my hands in the air and growled menacingly. I couldn't cope with the pressure - my list was too perfect.

Crap.

Doing what I did best, I chucked on a jumper and left. Not for good, just for a walk along the beach. Maybe the blast from the North Sea could disentangle the cobwebs in my head, and dispel the vestiges of my hangover.

Anything was better than sitting there, like a moron, pleading for someone else to tell me the answer to my unspoken question.

'Who am I?'

***********************************************************

I sat on the beach staring out at the horizon. The day was fading away, taking my inhibitions with it.

I couldn't deny it any longer.

I was in love with Kate Thomas.

Screw the consequences. She was a part of me I couldn't ignore. Whatever made me 'me', all came from her. I knew that now.

All I had to do was convince Kate of the same thing and I'd see what came from that.

That thought hadn't occurred to me before. What if she wasn't interested? What if she told me to sling my hook?

Desperation raced around, stopping somewhere just beneath my left breast and slightly to the right.

I had to tell her … I had to find her and tell her. If she knocked me back … well … she knocked me back. I'd deal with that later.

Without warning, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Electricity gushed through me like I had been struck by lightning.

I had only felt this way once before …

Slowly, deliberately, I turned. In the fading light I could just make out a figure walking towards me. I screwed up my eyes to absorb the scene … it couldn't be … could it?

The figure was walking with a purpose, and walking in my direction.

I stood. Sand dropped from my clothes; sea gulls cried like babies into the wind.

It had to be a hallucination … a figment of my over zealous imagination … a demon conjured from the ache in my breast to drive me insane with longing … with hope.

The figure stopped twenty feet away from me. Cool blue eyes met mine and locked, holding me in place … stopping my heart from forever feeling any different from what it did at that very moment.

'Kate?' The disbelief was obvious.

She stood there … silent … watching me … taking me in.

I felt exposed, yet fulfilled. Her eyes alone satisfied an ache within me, an ache I had fought hard to suppress … until now.

One word showed me it was not a dream. One word.

'Abbie?'

And I was off at a run, my feet dipping into the sand like it was cotton wool.

Her arms were as I remembered them. Strong, fulfilling, filled with promise. I inhaled the smell of her, glorified in her touch, her breath on my skin the elixir of life. I couldn't speak, I just needed to hold her; have her hold me.

We stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. It was bliss … utter and total bliss. If I had died at that moment I would have died knowing the secret to life.

I pulled away and looked deep into her eyes; eyes that exposed her to me in a way I would never have dreamed possible.

Reason clutched my brain and I pulled back a little more. 'What are you doing here? Didn't you get the package?' I searched her face for a clue. She gazed down at me, her eyes hooded.

No answer.

'Well?' I squeezed her for effect. 'I made sure you got it.'

'The package?' Her voice was distant, like I had brought her back from another place in time.

'Yes. The journal page … the one from Enid's room?' Another squeeze. 'My agent told me you said I had something of yours that you personally had to get back. The only thing I had was the journal page.'

A smile flickered over her chiselled features. By God, she was beautiful.

'You do have something of mine, that I do need back, unless … you want to keep it?' She held me to her and I glorified in her touch. My head rested on her breast, contentedly. 'But it wasn't the journal page.'

I looked into her face, my chest heaving: anticipation flooded my senses. 'Well … if it wasn't that, what is it then?'

Another smile. 'My heart.'

My eyes were captured by blue, blue eyes that questioned me, pleaded with me for a response.

And a response they got.

I tilted her head downwards and brushed my lips over hers. So soft, so completely and utterly soft. She returned my kisses, gentle, coaxing and addictive. I craved them; I needed to feel those lips harder, with abandonment. I increased the pressure, a soft tongue begging entrance to my waiting mouth. My hands snaked up her body to land in her hair.

A moan. I can't remember from whom … maybe it was both of us. The kiss became frantic, choreographed by desire. Breathing became erratic as hands snaked up and down each other's bodies. I grasped at her breast eliciting another moan my fingers kneading the wool-covered area, making me feel the urgency of my want.

I could feel her fingers in my hair, her tongue in my mouth: her thighs weaving themselves around my leg to thrust waiting hips into the mix. I craved her touch. I wanted to slip against her, naked. Taste her all over, suck at her skin … her breasts … enter her with my tongue, my fingers. I needed to feel her climax beneath me … above me … inside me.

I lowered her to the sand, the sound of the sea our only companion. 'God … Kate … I need you so much.' I was on top of her, pressing myself deeply into her. Hips dancing over her leg: my need chafing the seam in my jeans, exacting out the promise of fulfilment.

She broke away from my mouth and my lips began to devour her throat.

'Abbie? Abbie … no.' I looked up from my task, startled into realisation once again.

'Oh God, Kate … I'm so sorry.' I began to lift myself from her, the pain soaring through my chest at the rejection.

'I didn't mean no.' Her voice was filled with the desire that I felt. 'I mean not here. Can we go inside?'

A smile erupted on my face.

'Sure. Follow me.'

I jumped up, held my hand out for her. The feel of her fingers sent another spark to a promise waiting to happen.

And we went back to the cottage, holding hands, almost running.

*********************************************************

I tore her jumper to get at her flesh. I ripped at the buttons of her jeans to get to her desire … my desire. I clawed at her back, trying to rid her of the bra that stood in my way; my teeth nipped her neck, marking her as mine.

It was frantic. It was glorious. It was a liberation of the need I had been pushing down since I had first gazed into her eyes, first glimpsed her soul.

Her hands were unsteady, as she pulled the clothing from my aching body. I helped. I craved the feel of our skin meeting, reuniting, sliding against each other. Reuniting? Couldn't think about that … the want in me was too strong.

I slammed her against the wall, pinning her there with my half clothed body, pushing myself between her thighs. Grinding my core into her own. I tried to possess her, own her … love her.

Fingers snaked themselves unbidden in to long, thick locks, pulling it away, holding it in my grasp. Her hands were pushing my jeans down, past my hips, past my knees, until they reached the ground and I could step away from my inhibitions.

I licked her neck; long languid strokes from a tongue on fire for the taste of her … all of her … every nuance of her. I went lower, discovering her breasts with my lips, my hands following, leaving the safety of her hair. Gently, I cupped them; weighed them in my new found world of love and longing.

Dark brown nipples fought to enter my mouth, straining from their prime position on each breast like an offering, a sacrifice to my desire. I suckled, hard, like a newborn lamb feeding from its mother, knowing this was the only way it could survive … the only way I could survive.

Sensations were building inside me, shocks spluttering and growing, a newly stoked fire created by her touch.

She pushed me into her, groaning, writhing, showing me she needed me just as much.

Who was I to refuse? I loved her.

'Kate … oh God … Kate,' I mumbled, her breast in my mouth, her hands in my hair, her taste on my tongue, the scent of her arousal tantalising my taste buds. 'I need … you … I need … you.' She was moaning, her breath in my hair, her hips forcing back into me. 'I … want … you … so … much.' Each word punctuated by a short suckle, my hands nursing the underside of her breasts.

'Oh Gods … yes!' Her voice echoed above me, deeper with desire, longing for release. Release I had within my grasp to give her. 'Please … Abbie … please.' She was begging now, not only with her words, but also with her body, her hands and her fingers praying to me, her hips pulsating the catechism that words failed to say.

I lifted my head and looked into her face. Closed eyes slipped open to greet me with forever. I was lost. Yet … I had never felt so 'found' in my life. All my fears about reprisals … gone.

She leaned in and snatched at my hungry mouth, eliciting a deep felt groan from the pit of my stomach.

'Abbie?' So soft, so quiet, I had to strain my ears to catch it.

'Yes?'

'I need to make love to you, so much.' She kissed me again, long and hard. I felt the earth shifting around me; felt my world spinning out of control. Lips left lips once again, and she stared into my eyes, pleading for a promise from me that I would never hurt her again.

'Let's go to bed.' Short and sweet. But effective.

I kicked off the left leg of my jeans and left her embrace. The coolness of the night more apparent now I had left the heat of her arms.

I held out my hand and pulled her from her position sloped against the wall. And without words, led her to my bedroom.

My heart was knocking hard in my chest and my breathing was laboured, but I knew, without her, I would surely die.

********************************************************

The last rays of sunlight danced along the floor of the room as we entered. Not a word was spoken. Expectation choked me.

I led her to the bed, turned her around and gently, oh so gently, lowered her backwards, her tall frame that once dwarfed my own now on my level.

Hot lips met my aching breasts, and I threw my head back with the agony of wanting her so much. Strong, capable hands cupped my rear and lifted me forward, pushing me, ultimately, between her legs. Gentle fingers kneaded the pliant flesh, until stray fingers looped the elastic of my briefs, to slowly, hesitantly, push them downwards. The moisture between my legs escaped the confines of my core to slowly slide out towards her hands.

I was naked. Exposed. Displayed in front of my soon to be lover as vulnerable and desperately in need of her.

Her lips left their place to allow her to lean back and allow her eyes to ravish my heated body. Electricity followed her every movement, glorifying in her gaze, rooted to the spot by this vision seated in front of me. I leaned down to capture her lips with my own, hungry kisses to fuel this obsession I felt inside.

The pressure I applied pushed her backwards, allowing me to stretch my small frame over hers, our naked bodies finally making contact.

I will never forget the feel of her skin: the feel of her skin underneath mine. Heaven. More than heaven … it was perfection. Silky, warm skin fuelled the fire, as I slid up and down her body, my body between her thighs, her passion rubbing against me, marking me, leaving its scent of possession.

She held on to my backside, aiding the thrusting movements I was making, aiding the contact between her body and my own … her soul and mine.

My hands were everywhere, unsure what to touch first ... unsure what to treasure and commit to memory. I settled one hand on her breast and then snaked the other underneath her to push her into me. I wanted her inside … mind, body and soul. I wanted to feel her lips on me, everywhere, anywhere, but on me … with me.

Hips were grinding together, building the contact between us to almost insanity. I felt my world dissolving, fading away until there was only her and me … only me and her.

The pressure was forceful, almost painfully not enough. I needed more … she needed more.

I slipped one leg over her thigh, and she groaned through loss of contact, and continued to pleasure myself, all the while slowly descending her body. She was so perfect … so beautiful. I could feel the tears throbbing in my throat, begging me to release them inside her.

Soft silky hairs welcomed my mouth. An erotic, exotic smell greeted my senses. I parted her with my tongue, savouring the wetness, the taste, and like a bee to a honey pot, I dived in, suckling the font of desire; suckling her want with my own.

I was delirious. I was lapping up the juices like a kitten; soft ragged strokes, alternating with long, slow thick ones. Her hips were bucking beneath my head and I had to use my arm to hold her still. Rhythm of lovers stuck in a stage of perfection, of adulation, of expectation and bliss. My own need was at its height, pumping for all the earth on her leg, a leg ready and stiff for my pleasure. I could feel the orgasm building … hers and mine … they were joined somehow … we had become one.

My free hand slithered its way around her thigh to sit waiting, expectantly, outside her core. I could feel her pushing herself down onto my lingering finger, trying to spear her desire onto me, as I wanted to spear mine into her.

Short gasping breaths, 'Please … Abbie … please … two fingers … please.' Even through my desire soaked brain, I smiled into her.

Two fingers stood waiting to claim her, prodding at the opening with deliberate precision.

And then I entered her. Pushed my fingers hard inside, listened to the sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth, and waited. Waited for her to get used to the feel of me filling her: waited for the moment I could continue making love to this woman.

Her hips showed me when she was ready, and I pumped inside her with all I had.

I felt a giddiness seep up inside me, a feeling of elation I had never experienced before. I could feel her coming … I thrust harder, my tongue and mouth loving her, my lips kissing passion with abandon.

'AAAAAAAbbbbbbbbbbbbbbiiiiiiiee! ………….God ………….. AAAAAAAAbbbbbbbbiiiiieeee!' I continued to thrust, but I had to look at her face as she came.

Her head was thrown back, her slender neck slick with sweat, glistening in the dimming light, her mouth was open shaped into a perfect 'o', and her chest was heaving into the sex charged air. She was a vision.

As I watched, the sensations I had been feeling escalated so quickly, the climax took me by surprise. Blinding lights distorted her image sprawled on the bed, sensations heightened as her fingers grasped my hair, pulling it and gripping it like a drowning man trying to save himself.

I felt the sensation of pure ecstasy break free, as I crashed over the edge. 'Ohhhhh God … ohhhh God … Ohhhhh … mmmyy … good GGGGGGGGGoooooooooddddddddd!' My hips rained upon her leg, my hand pumped inside her, and I felt her go over, again, her grip tightening in to an agonising pleasure.

The sob was out before I could stop it, and almost immediately she had me in her arms. 'Baby, what's the matter?' Soft kisses danced over my sweat soaked skin, mixing with the tears I couldn't hold back, didn't want to hold back. 'Did I hurt you?' The concern in her voice only made me cry more. 'Abbie … sweetheart … come on … I won't ever hurt you again.' A pause. 'I love you too much to ever hurt you.'

I threw my arms, clumsily around her neck, and sobbed into her throat. 'K … K … Kate … God … I … love … you … so … so …much.' And then continued to cry even harder.

The air was filled with her breathing and my weeping. Her arms protected me, cocooned me with her love; soft gentle strokes from her fingertips painted my skin. I knew she was waiting for me to tell her what the matter was … why I was sobbing into her chest when I should have felt elated.

Time passed. Slowly, the darkening sky obliterated the light from all corners of the room.

But I could see more clearly now than ever.

'Kate?' I felt her body stiffen, her fingers halting their comforting path. I sniffed, dramatically, trying to compose myself. 'I'm sorry.'

I felt her hands slide from me; felt a distance between us grow. I lifted myself up by my hand and gazed into her face. Such a beautiful face. She tried to avoid my eyes but I continued to stare at her until she was forced to look. 'I'm sorry.' I repeated, quietly.

I could see her trying to swallow a lump in her throat; pushing it back until she had the ability to speak without her voice cracking. 'What for?' She had failed. Her voice was broken. I couldn't understand why she seemed so upset.

I had to ask.

'Are you regretting what we have just done?' Blue eyes looked at me incredulously, her mouth slackened into a comical expression of disbelief.

'Me? You're the one who is apologising!' Her voice was firmer now and laden with astonishment.

I smiled at her, making her more uneasy. A grin broke out across my face, and she seemed immediately hurt, like I was laughing at her in some way. 'I'm not apologising for this,' I threw my arm around in the air, generally taking in the position of our bodies. 'I'm apologising for leaving when I did, how I did. I'm apologising for being too scared to realise who I am … who I really am.'

If we could measure a grin, it would be priceless. Her face split in half, covering the doubt and rejection I had witnessed there only seconds before. She lifted herself up and gripped my face in her hands and kissed me. Hard. And I loved it.

'So … who are you then?'

I kissed her softly on the mouth before leaning back to stare into her eyes. 'Yours.'

I sealed this epiphany with a kiss, and then snuggled down into her arms once again.

My eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion from all the angst taking its toll.

A soft whisper trickled in my ear, 'And I'm yours.'

With that we both fell into contented sleep; something I had not experienced in years. I felt safe, loved and protected. I felt joy, life and desire. I felt … that's just it … I felt.

*************************************************

Chapter Nineteen

I felt her before I saw her. I knew she was watching even before I opened my eyes. She was propped up on her elbow, her face close to mine, her eyes dimmed by the early morning light.

She reached over and placed her fingertips on my collarbone, softly tracing the dips and curves. Her eyes flitted from my eyes to stare in wonderment at what she was doing. Gentle strokes, across and back, across and back. Rhythmic, soothing … loving.

Her head leaned down and allowed her lips to place the gentlest of kisses in place of her fingers, slowly easing them across the bone. Sparks erupted within me, and I inhaled … and waited.

Lips ventured lower and tantalised the top curve of my breast, a shy tongue poking out of glistening lips. The wetness between my legs was building, balming the heat from within.

The tongue entered the cleft of my breasts, slipping along the skin in familiarity, making my heart work just that little bit more, beat that little bit faster. I pushed myself up from the covers, wanting her to capture my need in her mouth; needing her to fulfil this ache she had created.

Fingers patted and stroked my stomach, alerting me of their descent. I was so, so ready. Firm fingers pulled my legs apart only to glide in between, on either side of my clit. Slow strokes, so slow, the firmness increasing with every touch. I was fascinated with it; fascinated with her; fascinated with this building of emotion, of desire, peaking inside me. Blue eyes caught my gaze and twinkled in the half-light. A thump of moisture shot out of me, almost ejaculated. Her expression never wavered; solidly capturing my look, watching me lick my suddenly dry lips, then mimicking the action, making me wet even more.

I could feel a tentative finger resting outside my core, her thumb still flicking my clit, a question in her eyes.

Slowly, I pushed myself down on her waiting digit, and it slipped, effortlessly, deep inside. I was mesmerised by her; bewitched by her beauty; hypnotized by her eyes. A second finger entered, shortly joined by a third. The rhythm of my hips aided her thrusts. I could see her hips joining the tempo, seeking purchase on anything, yet landing on nothing. I opened my legs wider, forcing my thigh between her legs. Her moan croaked from her mouth; her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments, only to open … revealing eyes violet with passion.

The feeling of her inside me again, her coating my leg with her love, painting her need upon me, marking me forever, made me quiver. I was hers. No one else could ever make me feel this way, no one else could ever make me … feel …

It was building. The maelstrom of emotions churned my gut into a paste of longing. Insides twisted and stretched: pulled and pushed. My hips danced the dance of the lover, her hips my partner.

Fullness covered me, starting from the place between my legs and branching out like a map of the London Underground, shooting off into different directions until reaching the end of the line. My mouth opened and closed, trying to gulp down oxygen, but unable to get enough to satisfy the light-headedness that engulfed me.

She was unrelenting. Her fingers took me prisoner, holding me fast … like her eyes … her eyes … her eyes …

I was captured, enraptured, ultimately conquered. She was my jailor: she was the key. A lifeline thrown to a drowning woman on the verge of total ecstasy.

I can't remember exactly when I came. All I could feel was her: all I could hear was the orgasm she screamed into the cool morning air … like an offering ... like redemption.

Fingers slipped free allowing me to clasp my legs fully around her thigh, only to switch positions, as I lay between her legs and began to pump myself into her, gazing into her eyes in wonderment.

I loved her. I loved her. I loved her. I loved her. The rhythm unrelenting.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

'I … love … you.'

We spoke at the same moment, voices mixing like our juices, the fire beginning all over again, cascading from our cores like a waterfall of love, lust … desire, and a connection of something so much more. A bonding that filled the emptiness I had once carried.

But not anymore.

I was complete.

I was completely in love with the woman writhing underneath me … I felt like crying all over again; I felt like taking her over the edge again and again and again. Loving her again: loving her … forever.

Sounds of our need filled the air. The slapping of our skin: stomach on stomach; breast on breast. My senses were overwhelmed: slick, wet juices poured from within me; I licked the saltiness of her neck; felt the smoothness of her throat; my tongue traced a strong, chiselled jaw line; her lips slipped gracefully under my desperate mouth.

Hands sought out breasts; fingers pinched and rolled aching nipples; groans added fuel to the passion raging within. Need drove me forward, pushing my hips into her, again, and again, and again.

We came together, shouting release into each other's mouths, muffling the sound from the world …holding it all inside. Perfection.

I slumped on top of her, sparks of my climax escaping through my pores.

And like that, we fell asleep. Me sprawled on top of her … where I belonged.

With her.

Only ever …with her.

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Chapter Twenty

Morning passed by, unnoticed. Feelings flooded through me I thought only existed in fairytales.

Each touch … caress … stroke of her hands fuelled the fire within me. Each kiss … lick … suck attempted to cool off the engine of want throbbing inside. My hands couldn't get enough of her; I was addicted to her taste … smell … feel; the sound of her voice awakened a need in me, spoke to me in whispered words, called to me in the throes of her coming.

Emotion had never played a part in my life. Until now.

I was exhausted, weakened by this yearning for her, knowing I would rather die than stop.

How could I stop? I'd waited years for this … and I hadn't even known it.

Time floated by unnoticed, but early afternoon dragged us from our bed and into the shower, only to start all over again.

Hunger stopped us … finally, and we sat in pleasurable silence, eating, listening to the sea, coy in our movements, shy of each other.

'How did you know where to find me?'

Blue eyes looked up from her plate, a timid grin playing around the corners of her mouth.

'Well?' I nudged her leg with my foot. 'Tell me.'

She picked up her tea and sipped slowly, and deliberately, dragging out her response until I leaned forward and growled in her face. 'Spill it, Thomas.'

Kate threw her head back and laughed, her face changing from beautiful to perfect in a split second. 'What's it worth?' Blue eyes regarded me intently, flickering and dancing with amusement.

'Right. That's it!' I dived over the table and landed squarely on her chest, knocking her backwards until we both landed on the floor in a heap. I straddled her, panting. 'Give?'

She laughed again. I tickled her sides, making her squeal and laugh even harder. 'Do … you … give … up?'

'Sub … mit … sub … mit!' Her voice held the note of fake surrender, pacifying me, pretending she couldn't just lift me off and place me on the floor next to her. 'Okay … okay!' Her laughter was still there, bubbling like a stream through my blood.

A half-hearted attempt to get up. Twice. The third time, I shifted to the side, allowing her to move her torso upwards until she was seated with me still perched on top of her.

'I went to visit your agent … got her address off your book.'

'You went to see Janet?' (although I already knew, it does a girl good to act coy now and again) 'And?'

'If you gave me a chance, I'd tell you,' and kissed my nose. 'As I was saying ….' Mock glare. 'I went to see your agent. Janet. She's a funny bugger, isn't she?' I nodded. Well … she was! 'Eventually, she gave in and told me you had gone to visit your parents.'

'So that's how you found me?'

'Abbie …' Her voice was low, and I knew I was being a pain in the arse. I mimed a zipper being pulled across my mouth. 'Finally!' I grinned hoping to play the cute card. 'No. She told me you had gone to visit your parents - other than that … nothing. Getting information out of that woman was like milking a bull.' I laughed, and then looked at her puzzled.

'But …'

'Abbie!'

'Okay … okay … message received loud and clear, Captain.' Then kissed her chin.

'I got the information from you.'

'Me?'

'Uh huh.' My eyebrows shot up into my hair. 'The letter … with the journal page …'

'But I di…'

'You sent it recorded delivery … it had your address on the back.' I looked at her gone out. 'I left home straight after … because … because …' Silence ticked around the room, as I sat on top of her; my legs curled around her back; and gazed intently into her face. Her voice was almost a whisper, 'Because I needed to see you again.'

She looked straight into my eyes, displaying embarrassment and anxiety. I didn't say anything. I just sat and stared into those mesmerising pools of blue. My heart was hammering in my chest, blocking out all other sensations. I missed part of what she was saying, deafened to everything except emotion.

'… I didn't even care you were married.'

'But I'm not … I am … oh bugger.' Her face softened, hardened and then cracked into a smile.

'Well, missy … are you married or not?'

I told her about Pete, about the sham of a marriage, about spending four years in hell, watching my husband flirt, cheat and spend as much of my money as he could. I told her about the years of feeling nothing. A stony expression appeared on her features when I told him about what destruction he had caused at my agent's … at my home. Anger exuded her every pore.

My fingers traced her jaw line, and I could feel the tension radiating off her in waves, but I continued.

Eventually, her face softened and her eyes held mine with sweet abandonment. I gently lay a tentative kiss on her cheek, feeling her hot breath caress my skin. Chiselled features malleable under my touch. Heartbeats picked up and breathing became laboured … I needed to feel her again … feel her under me … over me … inside me.

Wish granted.

A short while later, I lay in her arms, totally content with life … with her. A smile sneaked upon my face, as I thought 'Post It to self: Send Mum flowers.' Her writing my name and address on the back of the envelope had been the most innocent action ever. But the outcome … it was the only thing I think my mother had done for me that was perfect … that had brought me so much joy … so much love. And she didn't even know it. You have to smile, don't you?

But it still hadn't told me how she had found me here.

Oh well. I'll ask later.

Burrowing my face in to her chest, I fell into a peaceful sleep, my arms wrapped tightly around her, on the kitchen floor to my parents' beach house.

Heaven.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty-One

Days drifted by in a haze of loving that defied man's reason. We were cosseted by our love, a self- imposed incarceration, needing nothing and no one … needing only each other.

Making love with Kate was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. Having sex with her was primal … unadulterated bliss. Every room in the house had our mark … our scent. With every touch from her, another brick was torn down from somewhere deep within.

We had not told each other 'I love you' since the night we first consummated our want.

Deep down … this was beginning to bother me.

Don't get me wrong, I wanted to tell her, the words were stored in my throat … waiting, but … I don't know …

**************************************************************

By the end of the week I could tell Kate was becoming restless. My stomach churned at the thought of her leaving, of never seeing her again … of never … holding her … again. But I didn't say a word.

She had been with me for five days when she told me she was going back to Yorkshire. The tightening in my gut began to wedge its way inside my throat and I found it impossible to voice my feelings. Please don't leave me … please.

Instead I fully supported her, but I had to ask why, although voiced in an interested supportive tone instead of screaming 'WHY?'

'Business. I have to get back to the hotel.'

Simple enough. I should have just left it there really …

'Isn't there somebody else who can run it for you? You know, another family member?'

Me and my fucking big mouth. I should only ever open it to change feet. The change in her was chameleon like. She had started to withdraw as the end of the week approached, but now …

Her face paled, her eyes like blue chips in the whiteness, her lips a thin line.

'No.' The tone brooked no argument, but I couldn't stop my eyebrow rising upwards in surprise.

Swiftly, she turned her back me, the gesture signalling more than any words could say. She had cut me off.

It seemed like an age before I turned to leave the room: I had found it difficult finding the momentum to swing one leg in front of the other.

'Abbie …' Her voice was soft, wistful … alluring. I stopped, one hand on the door handle. 'Please … don't go.' It was a plea; I could feel her heart breaking behind me.

Turning around I was captured by her eyes. Haunted. 'I need to tell you something … something that has happened … something that I still can't get out of my mind.'

I stepped further into the room, but the distance between us screamed out. Neither of us made a move to move towards each other. Instead, Kate walked over to the window, crossed her arms over her chest and stared out onto the dunes.

I waited.

And waited …

'It happened just over two and a half years ago.' She stopped again, and I could tell she was having difficulty controlling her voice. 'My older brother, James, or Jim as I used to call him, ran Forester's Dwell.'

Jenny's voice came floating into my head unexpectedly, 'Ms Thomas has endured some personal tragedy'. I was guessing what that was before Kate continued.

'Jim loved the family business … I was so proud of him. Even though our parents left it to the both of us, I had other commitments in London. And they had worked so hard building it up after my Great Grandfather had inherited it back in the thirties.' My God. The realisation dawned on me … I didn't know anything about the woman standing in front of me … any thing about her past … I didn't even know what her 'business' was.

A shudder passed through me; I had made love to this woman, given her a part of me I thought I would never part with; showed her my vulnerability … and I didn't even know what her job was. A fleeting feeling of disgust washed through me. How could I be so … so … so … enraptured? How had this virtually unknown woman reached a part of me that no one else had even come close to?

Because I wanted her to reach it, I suppose. Because the thought of denying her was a hundred times worse than risking it all.

Kate continued to tell her tale and I felt guilty about having a crisis in the middle of it. 'I ignored his pleas to come home … I was too engrossed in making money on the Stock Market and shagging anything in a skirt to worry about him huddled away in Yorkshire. Big mistake.'

Quietness invaded. We stood there, her back towards me, shoulders slumped forward. I saw her hand free itself from the insulation of her self-imposed cocoon, to swipe angrily at a stray tear.

I waited … again. She needed to tell me; needed the release from the agony.

'He called the office early Friday morning, begging me to come home … said he couldn't stand it any longer. I nearly laughed at him and told him to get a grip, but something held me back … thank God. I left work and drove back … but … but … I was too late.' Her voice was cracking and I had difficulty understanding what she was saying. 'He … kil …led … him … self … Abbie, … before I … could get there.' A sob tore from her, raced around the room, echoing off the walls until it struck me right in the chest. I gasped at the impact, feeling unsteady, my hand reaching out to stop myself falling.

My poor girl. The tears were out before I knew it, and I staggered over, wrapping my arms around her from behind; holding her for all I was worth. I wanted to take away her pain, her suffering, but I couldn't … it was her job to forgive herself, I could only be there …

She cried, and I held her. She cried harder. I held her tighter. I began to rock her backwards and forwards, feeling the sobs wracking her body.

As soon as they had begun they subsided. I felt her stiffen in my arms and stare outside again, like she was blocking out the situation … blocking out me. She didn't want me to see her so vulnerable, I knew that, so I held on.

Minutes passed. Long languid minutes. Our breathing the only sound filling the room.

'He left a note.' I stayed quiet. '"Can't take any more" - that's it. No signature … nothing. I feel so guilty … he had asked me for months to go home … to help him, but I was more concerned with fulfilling my needs.'

'You weren't to know how serious it was. How could you?' I squeezed. 'And when you thought he really did need you … you went.'

She turned into my embrace, her head tilted down, her face streaked with tears, her mouth moving but silent. I placed a finger gently on her lips, 'No more tonight, sweetheart. You can tell me more later.'

I felt her soft lips brush against my finger, until she oh so surely opened her glorious mouth and sucked it inside. My eyes fluttered closed. The feeling was exquisite. In it went, absorbed in her heat. The same heat was pouring from between my legs, begging her to use her mouth there instead.

'Not tonight.' Was that my voice? Of course it was. How could I take advantage of this vulnerable woman standing before me, expecting her to fulfil the promise of her lips, her eyes, her body pressing into mine? 'Come on … let's get showered and have an early night. We've got a lot to do tomorrow.' Her eyebrow lifted in surprise, but a smile broke out on her beautiful face suggesting I had made the right choice.

And I had. But you try explaining that to a newly awakened libido - not a very receptive audience I can tell you.

**********************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Two

Feelings of pleasure tore through me. Shocks sparked haphazardly through every nerve ending, beginning from between my thighs and ending at my fingertips and toes.

She was between my legs, her tongue sliding around my lips, excavating hidden secrets within. Strong hands held me firmly by the hips as her head buried itself deeper … and deeper into me. My throat was making little throbbing noises, keeping with the rhythm of her tongue.

My fingers threaded themselves into her hair, rubbing her scalp in a gentle caress that progressively become firmer as I pushed her into me. This was ecstasy … euphoria. I parted my legs further to allow her easier access, silently willing her to fill me with herself, to crawl inside me and live there … to never leave me. Emotions were welling up … begging for something … more.

A tongue rested outside my core, silently asking permission to enter. Granted. I felt it slide inside, filling the ache, until it slowly, oh so slowly, pulled back out, only to plunge in again and again and again. Hips were beginning to become frantic, obsessed with finding release, finding a place between heaven limbo where they could rest and reflect on the wonders of this woman between my legs. A hand loosened its self from my hip to trail up my body, stroking a fire of desire in its wake. It settled, momentarily, on the outside curve of my breast, then began its journey again until it covered my breast fully, slowly pumping in tune with the tongue that was forever diligent between my legs.

It was coming. I was coming. It was building. I couldn't stop it. Didn't want to stop it. Throbbing. Incessant throbbing. Filling me. Filling me. Taking me. Owning me. Thrust … thrust … thrusting … thrusting until 'Kaaaaaaaattttttteeeeeeee, ohhhhhhh gggggooodddddd!' I tried to lean forward, to sit up, but her strong hand pushed me back, only to continue to push her tongue repeatedly inside me.

I didn't even have time to catch my breath before I was thrown over again into the abyss of rapture … her fingers leaving my breast to descend onto my erect clit that was straining, screaming for attention. Two fingers either side, almost frantic with purpose. Over again … my voice was hoarse from shouting her name over and over again, my body was shaking uncontrollably, the exertion almost too much. I felt weak. I felt alive. I felt.

Oh sweet torture, let me die now. Nothing can compare to the feelings raging through my body. Nothing can compare to being loved by this woman.

I now knew that until this moment I had been a virgin. Virginity cannot be taken from you - it has to be given. And I had just given mine to Kate Thomas.

And willingly.

************************************************************


I slept in her arms all night, blanketed by her body … her smell. It was perfection personified.

As soon as I opened my eyes I felt a sense of foreboding. She was leaving me today … Kate was leaving and there was nothing I could do about it.

I lifted my head from her chest and inhaled the sight of her. Her mouth was slightly parted in sleep and I could feel her breath skimming the top of my head. I reached out in reflex to tuck a stray lock away from her cheek … allowing my fingers to graze along her cheekbone in quiet supplication.

Thudding heartbeats began in my chest, warding off the waiting massacre that heartbreak can bring. I loved this woman. Me. Yes me. I was in love with a woman … this woman … Kate.

So why couldn't I tell her? Why was I going to let her ride off into the sunset without a single syllable of love being uttered?

Because I was too scared she didn't feel the same way ... that's why.

Yes, I know she told me that she loved me - but haven't we all said something like that at the height of an orgasm? Yes, I also know she said she had come for her heart … but I could keep it if I wanted to. But that didn't really prove anything now did it? Just that she can be glib (and clichι) when she wanted to be. I needed her to tell me how she felt now … now we had been together to the fullest extent. I didn't have the nerve to just blurt out what I thought … what I wanted. Cowardice does run in my family … just look at my father for proof.

Unconsciously, my fingers continued to stroke her face … caress her cheek, my thumb lazily traced her lip. I would miss these.

Eyes that were once asleep peered at me lazily in the early morning light. There was something written in them I couldn't quite decipher … but it was written so plainly, there, on the surface. I stared deeply into them, hoping to read beneath that surface, use my analytical skills to uncover the truth behind the self-erected walls of Kate Thomas.

Her hand slipped down my back until it rested on the curve of my rear, only to gently squeeze on impact. Unbidden, a moan escaped from deep in the echelons situated in my stomach and groin. Throbbing reared its head again, the need for her never being satiated.

Her other hand came into play; tips of fingers awakened my skin. I couldn't break her gaze … didn't want to.

Life was pouring back into her, as the fogginess of sleep evaporated.

Slowly, her hands coaxed the hairs on my skin into action, alerting them of her presence, warning them of her intent.

I pulled away, for a moment annoyed at how quickly I allowed this woman to take me over: disgusted at my lack of willpower to resist her.

Hurt marred her face; rejection coated her like a second skin. I smiled at her, almost cruelly.

Leaning back on the bed, I stared at her lips as I spoke. 'What do you want from me, Kate?' Her mouth worked, but refused to allow any words to break free. My left hand trailed around her breast, my eyes following behind like a puppy.

Over each curve, gradation … breast, nipple, fingers flat lining over her stomach, each move tortuously slow. I wanted to make her wait … wait like I had been waiting.

I lowered my mouth to follow the path of my fingers, my eyes … lips were wet, the tongue tender, yet focused on its task. The taste of her was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. I was forever under her influence.

Impatient hands pushed her legs apart, and I raised my eyes to meet hers. They seemed hooded, almost asleep, but I knew she was far from that … the heaving of her chest gave her away. 'I repeat, Kate. What do you want from me?' A pause. 'What do you want me to do?' I changed it at the last minute, too scared if she said the wrong thing, and broke my heart forever.

In the morning air, her voice broke through the chill to warm all in its path. 'Touch me, Abbie.'

Not the answer I was going for, but it would have to do.

I slipped my hand between the soft hairs that guarded her secret. Slipped past her nub and hovered above … nearly touching her, but keeping my distance. The heat radiating from her could power a small village. She lifted her hips trying to join her ache with my remedy, but I pulled away. 'Tell me … what … do you …want … me … to do?' I completely missed out my first question. What was the point? Her silence had already answered for her.

But at this moment … exactly that … this moment, that was all that mattered.

I returned my hand …

… and lightly brushed my fingers over her passion, eliciting a promise of satisfaction, but eluding the time of arrival.

God was she wet. She was soaked. I could feel it trickling from her, making my own juices begin to pump around and seek purchase on something.

But not yet. I wanted to watch as I took her over the edge, commit to memory the way she looked in ecstasy, capture this moment in the hidden parts of my brain to call upon when desperation took a hold like I knew it would.

I slipped down each side of her, purposefully avoiding her clit; purposefully avoiding instant gratification … for both her and me. And I stroked her, delicately, tenderly. The complete opposite of what I saw in her eyes.

'Please … Abbie … please … I … want … need you to … to …' She bit her lip, trying to stop herself wanting what we both wanted. Or it could have been the slight brush against her throbbing bump that caused her to lose her ability to speak.

'What do you want me to do, Kate?' The question was back, but this time firmer, content in the knowledge that this time it was going to get an answer.

'Touch me … harder.' The words were strangling her. I kept up the steady rhythm, but applied just a little more pressure. She was trying to push herself onto my fingers, so I eased off … making her growl with frustration. 'Abbie … oh God … please.'

I caressed her nipples that were straining upwards, rigid and resolute in their need to be touched, pinched, rolled around between my finger and thumb.

My thumb rested on her aching nub … just sat there, quietly enigmatic, but forceful in its stillness.

A cry broke free, and I watched mesmerised as she swiped her tongue over her lips, sucking in the bottom one, even teeth seeking out the pliant flesh.

Movements stopped.

I placed my finger at her core and left it there, paralysed, waiting for her to beg me to continue.

'What do you want me to do, Kate?' A whisper, not to drive her even more crazy than I was already, but in reverence of her … scared if I spoke too loudly, the spell would vanish.

'I … need … to … feel … you … inside me, please Abbie … oh God … please … take me … fill me … fingers … anything …'

Now how can a girl refuse that?

I circled her opening with my finger, coating it with her milky wetness, before I claimed her as mine. I gradually pushed my finger inside her, so slowly, before I claimed her as mine. I pulled back out of her and began to circle her core once again, before I claimed her as mine.

Kate's hips were leaping off the bed, hands tried to grip my wrist and force me to enter her. I pushed them away.

'Abbie … please … I'm begging you …please!'

'Please what, Kate?' A smile curled my lips.

'Fuck me … fuck me … I need you to … oh God - yes!' I entered her with three fingers, no precursor… just straight inside her … hard. Her hands gripped my arm and pushed my fingers even deeper inside; the groans spilling from her encouraged my own desire to scream between my legs … and to whisper from my heart.

She writhed on my hand, wanting me to pump in and out of her, but I stayed still, needing to feel her walls pumping and throbbing around three lucky fingers. Curling them slightly, I wriggled them inside her, languishing in the sounds flooding from a mouth open and groaning my name.

Then I stopped again. She pushed down again, willing me on … begging me to pick up the tempo.

So, I did.

I did what she asked me to do. I fucked her. Fucked her hard. Fucked her until my arm begged me to slow down, take stock, enjoy our last tryst together. Fucked her until my heart was aching for me to stop … stop and love her … gently … tenderly …

The walls inside her were closing in around my hand … around my heart. Her breathing was erratic, catching in her throat, the moaning coming from somewhere inside her. I watched her. This is what I would remember … her … like this … me inside her … watching her.

'Oooooohhhhh sssswwwwweeeeeeetttttt Jjjjeeeeeeessssuuussss!' And she came. Juices spattering my wrist, my arm still pumping into her, trying to stave off the shocks I knew would follow. Nails dug into my skin, marking me, a physical reminder of this moment. The moment I made her mine.

The speed of her movements surprised me, as she pulled herself free from my hand and grabbed my arms, pulling me on top of her. Lips fought for dominance, her kisses crazy with want, her tongue unforgiving.

Strong fingers dug into my flesh, one hand on my rear and the other in the small of my back. Her juices were slick, and I could feel the wetness rubbing against me as she ground her hips forcefully into my own.

Effortlessly, she flipped me over and straddled me. Her eyes were crazed … oblivious to anything else but this carnal need oozing from every pore of her. She was magnificent … she was savage … She was … mine.

Teeth nipped flesh, angry, yet gentle. Hands forced open willing legs; fingers delved and explored; hips rocked … pumped … ground into each other with undying abandon. Her fingers parted me, and plunged deep with no warning, sending me over the edge into a crashing, burning ecstasy.

She continued to push, grind, pump in to me, our ragged breathing accentuating the pleasure, allowing the throbbing, curdling feelings to explode effortlessly into each other.

Clawing feelings were scraping their way deep inside me, her fingers becoming my focus, my target. The need pulsating through me an agony; a superb agony.

Sweat dripped from her onto my overheated skin, mingling with my own. She had parted her thighs and lowered herself on to my leg. Slick, thick wetness painted me, made me want to come so much harder, wanting to join her in oblivion.

It was approaching. My quest. My goal … was coming. I was coming. Coming … coming … coming …

'Gggggggoooooooooddddd … Kkkkaaaattteeee ….!' That was all I could manage to utter, the sensations taking precedence over my voice. I wrapped one arm around her, gripping her in a frenzied hold, whilst the other flailed wildly at her side. I could feel her pumping herself against me until she too came crashing into my world of ecstasy, a world that existed for the here and now … a world that existed only for feeling.

Slowly, our bodies wound down, changing from carnal to gentle, allowing softness to have a voice. Sweet, tender kisses were exchanged, but not one word.

No 'I love yous' this time.

But for once … I didn't care. Exhaustion had played his part, and I lay underneath her totally at peace with myself for the first time in my life.

And for that I will be forever grateful.

***********************************************************

It was less than three hours later I bade her farewell with the promise of calling or writing or catching up soon.

I could feel the emptiness within me returning, but, like the true professional, I smiled for the imaginary cameras.

When I hugged her goodbye, I tried to be brief, tried to show I was okay with her going.

Tried. But I knew I hadn't succeeded.

Reason? I inhaled her. Breathed her in. Captured her in that moment. Her scent forced my arms to hold just that little more tightly, and for a little too long.

I didn't wait to see her drive away. Couldn't bear the thought of 'waving her off', so I left her there, standing at the boot of her car. Alone.

I didn't want her to see the tears streaming down my face; hear the sob in my voice as I shouted 'See ya!'

It must have been fifteen minutes before I heard her car's engine burst into life; another ten before I heard the tell tale sound of the gears engaging, the tyres grating along the gravel.

But I can't tell you how long I sat on the floor, curled in a ball, sobbing out my loss.

Some things we just can't put a time to.

************************************************************

I could tell you exactly how I felt when she left. How a blackness so deep engulfed me; or how the pain inside my chest radiated throughout my body; even how I continued to sob out my grief even when the tears had long since dried up.

I could say how her name continued to pour from my lips like a catechism of longing; or how I rocked myself into an almost catatonic state.

But what good would it do?

It wouldn't bring her back, would it?

Hours passed and I hadn't moved at all from my spot on the floor: what was the point?

I stared blankly ahead of me, face stiff with shed tears, mouth drying, eyes stinging mercilessly. I felt used, abused … victimised by something deeper than I could comprehend.

'There are no victims here,' I uttered, my voice cracked and dry.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to tell her … tell her how I felt … tell her I would rather know than be forever in the dark. I had to know one way or another.

Slowly, I untucked my legs from underneath me and stretched. The muscles screamed, but I carried on, ignoring the pain.

I was going to see her … tell her … get the girl.

And for the first time that day, I grinned.

'I'm going to get the girl.'

*******************************************************

Two hours later saw me back at my parents, wildly packing things into the boot of my car. I had to stop at London first to pick up some stuff from home, but then … I would be free.

I felt giddy, finally accepting the wonder of the situation. I am gay … and I didn't give a shit who knew it.

I laughed to myself as I hammered the last of my belongings into the boot.

'You've finally lost it then?' Claire's voice took me by surprise and I laughed again, and proceeded to push the boot down.

'Nope … I've found it.' Her eyes widened a little. I think I freaked her out a bit, as I wasn't much of a one to laugh to myself (whatever anybody tells you).

'Did your friend find you then?' My face told her I didn't have a bloody clue what she was talking about. 'Last week … a woman … tall, dark hair … came looking for you here.' My face broke out into a grin that spoke volumes. 'I told her you were at the beach house. Nice woman … attracti…'

I didn't give her chance a to finish. I threw my arms around her and hugged her to me hard. 'Thank you thank you thank you,' then kissed her on the cheek and jumped into my car.

As I was driving away, leaving a very stunned Claire, I shouted through the window 'And you were right … I am!'

I could see her face in my rear view mirror go from confusion into a smile that split her face in half. I stuck my hand out of the window and waved wildly.

Now to go get that woman of mine.

***********************************************

Part 3

I want to fall in you Crawl in you Surrender All in you now Could I be sure in you Pure in you Finding the cure in you Now I plead Have mercy on me

Mercy - Melissa Etheridge

Chapter Twenty- Three

Janet was surprised to see me back, as I had not given her any indication when we had last spoken just over a week ago. She was even more surprised when I handed her the three quarters of my first draft.

I was not in the mood for chitchat. All I wanted to do was collect some more stuff and get to Yorkshire - get to Kate.

After fifteen minutes of me edging towards the door, refusing coffee for the fifth time, I eventually escaped her clutches with the promise to complete my story. She seemed chuffed I had decided to work back at the retreat, and didn't even question my change of mind, believing I was going because she wanted me to. Bless.

Outside in the grey light, I decided I would go straight there, back to Forester's Dwell. What was the point of travelling across London just to pick up more clothes? I had what I needed in the back of my car.

Decision made, I climbed into the front seat, turned on the engine, and turned the car around.

I was finally on my way, the smile on my face firmly in place.


**********************************************************

The journey was monotonous to say the least. The M1 was packed with commuters and I spent forty-five minutes behind an accident just before my turn off at junction 42.

Patience is a virtue I had never possessed, and within those forty-five minutes I had come out with every expletive in the book … and added a few of my own into the mix. Eventually, my mind turned to the poor innocents who must have suffered in the crash, and I felt a sense of shame pass over me.

It's amazing how we can turn our emotions around, isn't it? One minute I was gloriously happy to be on my way, then anger reared from within, until, finally, I felt a sense of loss so encompassing, so consuming, I couldn't shake off a feeling of foreboding.

What if something had happened to Kate? What if I got there and … I couldn't even finish the sentence. I didn't think I'd survive that … losing her when I had just found her again.

Again? The word 'again' kept skipping around my mind. I had no idea why.

Memories of events at Forester's Dwell popped into my head. The woman I kept seeing who looked like Kate but wasn't. Unexplainable noises in the night … the words written on both my computer and the mirror (and then later on my bedroom wall).

And poor Enid. The poor woman. I felt an even stronger feeling of despair wash over me. She was dead and I hadn't thought about her in so long. Dead … gone.

I know I hadn't known her for very long, just an evening in fact … but that didn't stop her being my friend. It also made me even more aware of how fickle life was. One minute laughing and joking … the next …

Thoughts like this continued to pound through my head, jolting tears just below the surface. I was so absorbed in my mental meanderings I nearly missed the turning for the A6036 to Halifax.

I was twenty miles away from the house but I could feel Kate. I had never really lost the sense of her, even after she had left me, but I could feel her presence near.

Butterflies skipped inside my stomach, my heart decided it wanted in on the action and began a tempo that made my breathing hitch. Doubt started talking to me, reminding me this was not who I was. A little voice spoke gently, yet firmly into my subconscious 'You are not gay.'

But … I loved Kate. Didn't I?

No. I didn't. What I felt for Kate surpassed all the boundaries of love … if love had any boundaries at all. This was obsession … addiction … a feeling of incompleteness without her … her voice, eyes, skin, smell, the taste of her completely captured me … enraptured me … made me glad I was alive, glad she was, or had been, a part of my life.

Maybe I was in love then.

All depression disappeared; a face splitting grin smacked itself onto my face. Thirty-five minutes later, when I was sitting outside the wrought iron gate, I again asked permission to enter.

Permission to enter more than a set of metal gates … that's for sure.

**************************************************************

Jenny was at the desk, silently tutting at the computer screen. I stood there for a while and just watched her, not wanting to disturb the obvious display of bad humour.

Finally, brown eyes lifted and stared into my own. I saw her blush furiously, either from embarrassment of being caught off guard, or the realisation it was me standing in front of her.

'Abbie!' She leaned over the desk, knocking leaflets and cards from the surface to pull me into a hug. 'Soooooo good to see you again.' And she kept on holding … and holding.

As diplomatically as I could, I pulled myself away from her, leaving her leaning over the counter in an almost comical way. 'Good to be back, Jenny. Is Kate around?' I tried to sound casual, but the eagerness in my tone belied my indifference.

'She was just here … let me think …' I fiddled with my bag, a little uncomfortable with her look. 'I think she's gone to the lake … she hasn't been feeling too good since she came back.'

'What's the matter with her?' I leaned forward, my face inches away from Jenny's. 'What do you mean she hasn't been feeling too good?' Panic raced through me. My thoughts on my journey coming back clearly - what if she was taken away from me… now … now that I had found her?

Jenny's face spoke volumes. Believe me, I was close enough to see every emotion on her face.

'She's not ill as such … just been even more moody than ever. Bawling at the staff for no apparent reason.' I pulled back, only too aware of Jenny's fixation on my mouth. She blinked repeatedly, coughed, and then looked back into my eyes once again. 'Her exact words were "If Ms Jameson calls, get me - whatever I'm doing - get me."'

Thank you God! If that wasn't a sign she was interested I didn't know what was.

Instead of jumping up and down with joy, I smiled at her. 'Could you get someone to take my bags up?'

'Same room?' I nodded, but secretly wished it wasn't. 'Okay, it's all sorted.'

'I'm just popping out for a walk, but I'll be back for tea, okay?'

I didn't wait for a response, I had to 'get the girl' my heart kept demanding, as it sputtered and jumped within my chest. Poor thing. It didn't know what to expect.

Neither did I … but it didn't stop me looking for it.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty- Four

Emotions charged through me as I made my way to the lake. I fought down the urge to run to her … but also to run away. The feeling of wanting her was so strong, but at the same time I felt out of control. This sensation going through me was like an enchantment, a spell cast to overcome reason and make me something that deep down I knew I wasn't.

I had never felt this way before; no logical reasoning could account for this burning need I had inside … and that need centred on a tall, raven-haired woman with blue eyes. Her face came into my mind, floating in front of me, urging me forward, pleading with me to save her somehow.

Why would she want me to save her? In what way could I ever do that? She was so strong, so capable, so … so … Kate.

I sucked in deeply. The cold, damp air hitting my lungs, causing a shooting ache in my chest. Wisps of cloudy breath escaped back into atmosphere, informing me I was alive … it was the first time I had consciously thought about being alive … philosophically I mean. To be alive is not to just exist, plodding around in a mundane world. To be alive meant to live … really live.

I took stock of my surroundings, the vanishing winter sun dulling in the sky. Trees had lost all their leaves, and the path was littered with offerings to the winter, sloppy and slippery underneath my booted feet. January was a month filled with nothing but the hope of spring, of rebirth, of the ability to begin again when all around seemed hopeless. That was how I was feeling … I had lived my life with nothing but now I had hope, and through Kate I had a chance at rebirth.

My step increased. Although my legs are short they worked with all their might to get to my destination.

And then I saw her.

She stood staring out into the lake, like the first time I had seen her here. Stoic. Silent. Distant. The side of her face masked her emotions, her concentration aimed at nothing, yet focused at the centre of the lake. Limp hands dangled at her sides, only to flex and tense sporadically, like she was trying to get a grip on something, trying to restrain herself somehow.

Something alerted her of my presence, because she slowly turned her fixated gaze to meet my own. It took a while for realisation to dawn, her eyes being the first to show recognition, only to be shortly followed by her lips.

I smiled at her, my muscles trying to relax, but knowing this was not over yet.

Her smile disappeared as quickly as it came, and her eyes deadened.

Confusion wrote itself over me, slapping me into some kind of rejoinder, pushing me into saying something … anything.

'Kate?' I faltered. 'Are you okay?' My voice was a whisper. We were still a few feet apart but she heard it.

She looked me squarely in the face, held her gaze there for an agonising moment. 'Abbie?' The disbelief in her voice was there; waiting to mock her … waiting to tell her this was a dream.

'Yes?'

A smile so free lit her features, 'You've come back.' The same words she had used all those months ago.

'Of course … how could I stay away?' She was in front of me before I had finished the sentence, her fingers on my face, cupping my jaw and tilting it upwards. Her breath skipped over my skin, so warm, so reassuring. I licked my lips, ready to say more, but she stopped me with the softest kiss I have ever received. It flitted over my mouth like a memory, until her cheek was against mine, her fingers tenderly holding me in place.

'You've come back to me,' her choking voice and shaking broke my heart, and I knew if I looked at her face I would see tears.

I held her. She held me. The noises around the lake paying homage to our reunion.

Soft sobs echoed in my ears, and I stroked my hand down her back, calming her, soothing her, reassuring her it was me and I was here … for good.

'What are we going to do now?' Her words tickled my ear, and I pulled away to look at her face, look into her eyes.

'Well … you could at least take me on a date.'

Her laugh was like music. Rich, powerful music that eased all doubt. 'Or just buy me lunch … that would be a start.' She threw her head back and laughed long and hard, hugging me even tighter than before. The smile on my face was goofy to say the least, and I snuggled further into her arms.

This was the life. This was what I had waited for … yearned for my whole life … and, strangely enough, it wasn't until this moment I knew it.

I felt like the cat who'd got the cream after eating the canary, then been allowed to sleep in the middle of the bed surrounded by pillows whilst being stroked.

Yes. I felt like purring. Wouldn't you?

************************************************************

Hand in hand we strolled back to the house, completely contented without saying a word, knowing the silence we shared, we shared together.

Jenny's face was a picture as we entered, her eyes zooming in on our clasped hands in recognition of what was happening. Shock, quickly followed by a hint of annoyance, then, finally, acceptance. Her shoulders physically slumped as she greeted us both. I felt guilty about having ever doubted her in the past.

We had a quick snack of tea and sandwiches in Kate's room. After hours on the road I was hungry, felt travel weary and dirty. Kate told me to use her bathroom whilst she collected my things from my room, and I felt an urgent need to get out of my clothes, into some hot water and into bed. I was exhausted - both physically and emotionally.

The water was soothing, bouncing off my skin like warm rain, the smell of her shower gel coating me in her essence. Sleep was creeping into me and I had to vigorously towel myself dry to have the energy to get to the bed.

I nodded off, and didn't hear Kate come back in, or hear her in the shower.

But I felt her get in bed next to me. I felt her warm body scoot up behind my naked back, and enfold her arms about me, wrapping herself into me like we had done this a thousand times before. Soft kisses fluttered on my neck, just below the base of the hairs, her breath pushing stray locks to the side to enable her to use her lips to gently suckle the skin there. Fingers joined in the caress, tenderly stroking my shoulder using just the tips.

Tingles raced around my body, little sparks of want building up from within. I wanted to turn around, turn away, pull her to me and kiss her mouth … the mouth that was driving me over into something uncontrollable … something so exquisitely beautiful words could not define it.

Fingers traced themselves down my arms, to stroke along the underside of my forearms, her lips unerring in their task at the nape of my neck. Then they moved. Slowly, oh so slowly, until she was suckling the join at my neck and throat. A groan came from my lips, unbidden, yet unable to contain itself from telling her what I needed.

She had her full hand on my forearm and was massaging the muscles that performed and danced for her alone. My hips began to join in the dance, pushing back into her, feeling her naked body pressing back into mine. Her hand trailed along my stomach, stroking, coaxing, making me ache for her all the more. She pulled me back into her until we were one. Kisses on my shoulder and neck were becoming urgent, and I longed to taste her again.

She pulled her lips away, and I heard a soft moan, our hips still moving against one another. 'I love you, Abbie.' Words so simply said, but my heart pounded with the sound of them.

I turned to face her, our hips slowing down, and looked at her face in the dimming light. 'Don't you know I love you too?' I whispered, before taking her lips with my own, my mouth opening to accept all she had to offer and release all I had to give. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, her breasts rubbing against my own in supplication to the demands of our necessity … the demands of our long lost souls that had once again found their other half.

Her body moved over mine, hovered above me for an agonising moment before gently lowering on top of me.

Perfection.

Our bodies moved against each other unhurriedly, knowing this was more than sex, more than gratification. This was the ultimate bonding of heart, mind and soul.

Kate's essence entered me, seeped into each pore, mingled and mixed with my blood, marking me as hers, marking her as mine.

My legs were open, accommodating her slow thrusts into my core. Calves wrapped around hers, holding her to me, my hands pushing her backside into the yearning need pulsating at the apex of my thighs. I couldn't focus on anything but the sensations her body was creating, the building of something primal from within, the building of torturously wonderful pockets of emotion that discharged in electric pockets of pleasure.

I was bordering on the delirious; the goal, not an orgasm this time, but a joining … a coupling. The sensations made my mouth water for the taste of her. My mouth captured her throat, suckling, turning into small nips and kisses that made her groan and move faster against me. I didn't want to come … yet - I didn't want this feeling to end. Lips sought out lips, tongues sought out tongues, the feeling of being swallowed whole … I loved every minute of it. Kate's tongue stroked the inside of my bottom lip causing me to whimper, the sensation overpoweringly beautiful.

Leisurely, her mouth descended my face and throat, fluttered over my collarbone, and landed on the inside of my breasts. It rested there … listening to the thudding in my chest.

'I love you, Abbie.' Again the words floated upwards to my ears, making my heart soar once more. I couldn't speak: emotion choked me. A wet tongue circled my breast, purposefully missing its target making me crave it all the more. I placed my hand at the back of her neck, guiding her mouth to where I needed it most.

Perfect …

She suckled me, whilst my hand tangled in her hair, her hand coming up to taunt and tease the other breast into action. Strong fingers rolled the nipple around, pulling and flicking gently but firmly.

Then her face left its haven and descended lower, leaving her hand to continue pleasuring my greedy breasts.

At the apex of my core, she stopped, and looked into my eyes, hers hooded with desire, the blueness almost dark with need. A tender kiss landed on either side of my thighs, her eyes never breaking contact with my own. I was holding my breath … expectation playing a vital role.

A delicate breath skittered across my pubic hair, igniting my need further. My eyes fluttered closed, and my heart waited.

She parted me with her tongue, so smoothly … so gently, the sensation almost unbearable. The contact feather like, teasingly distant, yet all consuming.

My hips took up the rhythm initiated by her tongue, grinding slowly around her perfectly sensuous muscle.

Paradise was here.

I felt her tongue rest at my opening before it slipped, effortlessly, inside. Her moan made my juices flood from me … a tidal wave of desire.

In and out … so slowly … so fully …the ecstasy of penetration causing flashing lights to appear before my eyes. In and out … rhythmic … fervent. In and out … I pushed down, my wetness covering her mouth and chin. In and out … in and out … my insides sucking her back … holding her within me …aching for her to crawl up inside … crawl up inside and complete me.

Her thumb left its place on my breast and ventured downwards … downwards … until it stopped on my clit, hesitated … waited to find the tempo before joining in the dance of hips, tongue and hands. Her mouth suckled me … her tongue penetrated … her thumb caressed … and I came.

It was not like the previous orgasms I had shared with her. It was deeper … fuller … explosions juddering and pulsating … throbbing its silent cries into the darkness. I felt reborn. I felt fulfilled. I felt loved … protected … whole again. This was so much more than sex … so much more.

She crawled up my body to envelop me, wrap me in her love, hold me whilst I sobbed out my love for her … told her I would always love her … always.

Time elapsed as I lay in her arms, emotions running rampant, the sobbing easing in my chest.

I smelled her hair, inhaled her scent, breathed her in to capture her in my lungs and hold her there. My mouth was next to her ear, and I gently blew a soft breath onto it. Her body jerked in response. My tongue poked out to trail around the edge, tasting her, hearing her moan into my shoulder.

I rolled her over, my arms never leaving her body, needing the contact of skin on skin. She lay underneath me, vulnerable to my need to touch her, to taste her, to swallow her whole and hold her inside.

Soft kisses landed on her face; nuzzling, lips brushing lips, discovering of skin, hope and desire; want and longing so deep it throbbed.

Lips on her neck, throat, shoulder; a tongue trailing down the curve where her arm met her chest, malleable skin ripe for eating. Teeth came out to nip and graze the flesh into submission; the curve of her breast tantalising me in the half-light.

Who am I to resist?

I tasted her … loved her with my tongue, my hands, my skin. I massaged her fears, her hopes, my dreams, until I found myself looking at the glistening desire of my lover … my love. I leisurely snaked my tongue along her folds, from the bottom to the top, from the top to the bottom, savouring the sweetness that was Kate. Tastes of nectar exploded in my mouth, forcing me to take her, to possess this taste … own it forever.

My hand joined my mouth, more an aid than a spectator. It helped me get to her need: helped me get to what I yearned for, a burning need that was eating away at me, as I was eating away at hers. Juices covered my face and I wanted to drink it in, but couldn't stop licking her, kissing her, just … there. Hips danced to and from my face, her hands wrapped themselves into unruly hair as she ground herself into me. I needed to feel her around my tongue; I needed to push myself into her, lick the insides of her, and taste her from the inside out.

Grasping fingers held onto her hips, as I entered her, my tongue fully extended, sweeping along the walls hidden from the world. But tonight they were mine, and for that I would be forever grateful. A groan met my ears and she pushed herself downwards, her knees raised allowing one hand to slither underneath and rest at the small of her back. I pushed her upwards, allowing my tongue to sink deeper into her, hearing her gasp, hearing my name on her lips.

I pulled back then plunged in again and again and again and again. Incessant rhythm undulating, throbbing out a tempo my tongue joined whilst my fingers tapped out the rest on her erect bud. Again and again … mouth, fingers and tongue, loving her. Again and again and again I sucked, plunged, and entered her. My breathing erratic, the air thinning, but I didn't care. If I died at this moment I would die knowing I had done what I was sent to earth to do.

Love her.

And love her I did, until I felt the tell tale signs of her release, felt the juices thicken with expectation, tasted the salt of her coming … and she did, again and again and again.

Like a dying man, I crawled up her body and nestled there until sleep took us both into dreams … dreams that had come true … for the first time in our lives.

The rest of the night saw us waking to continue our discovery, each time different to the last, but each time built on trust, our love, our certainty that this time it was forever.


********************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Five

Morning came around too soon, and after toast and tea we decided to go out for the day to Haworth. I teased Kate about her actually taking me on a date, and she adopted a mock pose of hurt before pulling me into a hug.

'I'll take you anywhere,' she breathed into my ear.

'Only the once.'

'Nope … twice. Second time to apologise.' I play thumped her in the side and she laughed, making me laugh with her.

We were so natural with each other. The solemn woman I had first met had disappeared, leaving a bright, vivacious creature who was totally bewitching.

Two hours later saw us on the road, Kate at the steering wheel, leaving me to wonder at the beautiful scenery. The journey was peaceful. I felt so at peace in her company.

It was lunchtime when we arrived, and our first port of call was the Black Bull public house, to freshen up and get something to eat.

In the toilets Kate sidled up behind me, planting tender kisses on my throat. I didn't care that someone might have walked in, the sensations were too strong to ignore. Her voice pulsed into my neck, 'You're always hungry, woman.'

'You have no idea.' I raised my hand to her cheek, our eyes locked in our reflections in the mirror. God. I wanted to kiss her there and then, take her in the cubicles and part her legs, taste her, slip my hands inside her clothes … but I doubted how well that would go down in a little country pub.

Over lunch Kate told me about the retreat's history. Her great grandfather, Edward Thomas, took over the house in the thirties when William had died leaving the estate mortgaged up to the hilt. Edward had only lived for three years, and then the running passed onto her grandfather, Henry Thomas. The war had interrupted the running of the place, and had been used as some kind of makeshift convalescence home. After her father married in the late sixties, Henry had passed it on to him, and lived out the remaining years of his life in the Lodge near the entrance to the estate.

I was transfixed with her talking. She had never said as much in one go before. It was perfect … the conversation … the company … the food.

God yes … the food! Beef and ale pie washed down with glasses of bitter - a true English lunch. I felt full to the brim, but still managed to demolish some home made apple pie, much to Kate's amusement.

'Had enough?' The twinkle in her eye lit up the room, and I knew she wasn't talking about the lunch.

'Behave, Thomas.' The smile lit up her face again and she threw her head back, giving in to a loud guffaw. People began to look and I felt exposed … kind of 'out', shall we say.

A smile crept on my face unbidden as two words echoed through my head.

'Fuck 'em.'


**************************************************************

Haworth church was beautiful. Oak panelled walls led to an ornate pulpit at the front. I looked at the plaque denoting the short lives of the Brontes, and felt a sense of loss. They were so young … had so much to live for.

The feeling was hard to shake off. We are here for such a short time, and we are so terrified of how other people perceive us … we miss out on so much. Seems such a waste … such a terrible waste.

My eyes met Kate's, and for an indescribable moment I felt a sense loss so profound, I couldn't move. You see, it wasn't my loss exactly, and it wasn't to do with the Brontes, it was … it was connected to Kate and I, but wasn't. Do you understand? I felt like I had lost her somehow, but not now, not here and now.

'Abbie? Are you okay?' Kate's face hovered in front of me and I pulled her to me, dismissing all the stares I received. Even the closeness we shared couldn't shake this feeling. But, being the professional, I hooked on my fake smile and looked her in the face.

'Never better. Come on. Let's check out the museum.'

With that, I released her, the coolness of the church blending eerily with the coolness in my chest.

***************************************************

The smell of the Parsonage offered memories of three women, holed away in the bleak village of Haworth more than a hundred and fifty years ago. Small dark rooms were filled with remnants of an era long gone; furniture placed expertly to conjure a sense of them having just left the room. The parlour showed pictures from the past, standing resolute over the chaise longue on which Emily had finally taken her dying breath.

Opposite this room was where her father had secreted himself away from his daughters, an office of sorts that bespoke the superiority of men at that time.

At the turn on the stairs, their faces greeted me, almost garishly painted. Pointy features belying their bird like faces. Three women who had challenged the canonised writing of their time; three women who showed they were more than just wallflowers, sitting in corners painting watercolours or embroidering delicate pieces of cloth. I had to smile as I searched out the painted out silhouette of Branwell Bronte, the artist and the brother of the women. At least he had the brains (maybe a gift of prophecy) to realise he wasn't as gifted as his three siblings - women at that. Men, even today, still believe he was the genius of the family. Go figure.

Viewing their belongings, splayed out for the world to see, unnerved me. How we are fascinated with other people's lives when we instead could be looking at our own.

Kate made her own way, reading through bits and pieces and pulling faces at me, mimicking grabbing the breast part of Charlotte's dress.

I mouthed 'Perv,' at her and laughed out loud at her fake sad face as she turned and pretended to slope off. People tutted behind me, probably thinking I was having a moment. Which, of course, I was.

I was staring at Emily's old bedroom when I felt the hairs on my neck announce her presence behind me, her body leaning close into mine, her soft breath tickling my ear as she whispered, 'Was she a midget then?' I let loose a loud guffaw, which echoed around the house, people giving me daggers as they trundled past, their faces showing their disgust at my obvious lack of respect for an empty house.

'Let's go.' I pulled Kate along by her hand, through Branwell's studio and through into the part which held information about their life and times. Me being me read every single word, and all the time I could feel Kate shuffling near me, trying in vain to disguise her boredom. I smiled and continued to read.

Eventually I was ready to hit the bookstore.

'Finally! I thought I'd lost you for a minute there.' Kate's face lit up as she spotted the Exit sign.

'Not quite yet, honey.'

Her face was a picture as I slowly fingered the merchandise, finally selecting a copy of Wuthering Heights, two pens, four pencils and a couple of bookmarks. I had always had a soft spot for stationary - a little pervy pleasure I tried to keep a secret … especially since I knew Kate would take the piss.

Outside the shop, Kate did a dance, before throwing her hands over her head and shouting 'Free at last! Free at last! Praise the Lord … I'm free at last!'

I stood there, bag dangling from my hand, looking at her with an amused smile. She continued to dance about, getting stares from everyone passing, who in turn looked at me.

'Ignore her … she's having a turn.' They laughed, and Kate shot me a mock glare and stopped pratting about.

'What?' The voice of the innocent. 'Have you a problem with me being more intelligent than you, Thomas?'

'Why, you cheeky…' She grabbed my waist, digging her fingers in, making me go weak and nearly pee myself.

I had to slap her on the shoulder to stop, and she pulled me to her, making the electricity jolt through my body again. 'Well …' she whispered, 'you have to be intelligent … you picked me, remember?'

A gentle kiss on the top of my head, and we were apart again like it had never happened.

We decided a cuppa was in order and made our way to the nearest teashop. The narrow, cobbled street forced us to separate to allow others pass, and I took this opportunity to look at her.

Objectively.

By the Gods, she was beautiful. Her height showed where she was at all times, long raven hair fluttering in the winter's breeze, fanning itself around her perfectly chiselled features. I felt my heart expand, the ache in my chest overbearingly breathtaking - like her.

Blue eyes connected with my own and my breathing hitched at the sheer power this woman held over me, the love I felt for her spilling over into the grey day, making the sun shine so much brighter, making my world spin just that little bit faster.

She stood outside the tearooms and held out her hand, which I took, the connection vibrating through me. I looked at her again and she was staring at our intermingled fingers, and I knew … knew she had felt the same thing. Her eyes lifted and met mine. Tears sparkled, ready for release from those wonderful blue orbs.

Concern flooded through me. 'What's the matter, honey? What's upset you?'

She sniffed and smiled weakly, her hand leaving my grip to swipe at an errant tear that had escaped down her cheek. 'I'm … I'm … you make me so happy.'

I cupped her face and wiped the remaining moisture away with my thumb.

'Ditto, honey. Ditto.'

***************************************************88

Over an extremely large pot of tea, we laughed, joked and bonded even more than I thought possible. Kate was so witty, so full of life … so different to the woman I had first met all those months ago.

'Whatcha buy?'

'Nothing.' I felt protective over my pencils. Her eyebrow lifted into her hair revealing her scepticism, then her eyes lowered to my carrier bag nestled between our chairs. Blue eyes looked into mine again, daring me to deny it. 'Okay … okay,' I mock sighed and pulled my bag up, dragging out items for her to see. 'Bookmarks … pens … a book … pencils.' My voice drifted off at the last item.

I lifted my head to see Kate smiling at me in amusement. 'What?'

'Pencils?' Her eyebrow lifted again. 'I thought I saw hundreds of the little fellas in your writing case. Why'd you need more? Fetish, Jameson?' The blush covered my face so bloody quickly, and went even redder as Kate leaned forward, the intent obvious. 'So … you've got, shall we say … a penchant for pencils?' A crooked grin … a raised eyebrow … a question laced with humour.

Beetroot. I had gone beetroot. The waitress took this opportunity to ask if everything was okay, and I nodded furiously, whilst Kate sat back in her chair looking smug. 'I'll get you for that later, Thomas.'

'I'm counting on it.' The crooked smile again. Boy, was she gorgeous - I could forgive her anything.

'What's the book?'

I showed her Wuthering Heights, but she didn't look too impressed. 'Seen the film … well, part of it. I'm not one for romance.' I glared at her.

'Film wise that is.' She looked almost angelic.

Then I was off, in obsessive mode, babbling about how it wasn't a love story, it was a tale of revenge, tragedy, regret, jealousy, social taboos and a slight on the farcical laws of the day. Wuthering Heights was far from a love story … it spoke of being denied the choice of who you loved, of conforming, from necessity, to society's rules and expectations.

'Yeah, but what's it about?' She looked a little more intrigued by this point, so I continued. I told her about the outsider, Heathcliff, being brought into the household, how he was badly treated … beaten and lowered in status by the hateful alcoholic Hindley. It wasn't until I got to the part where Cathy's ghost came back to haunt Heathcliff, from the grave, did I notice her reaction.

Stiff backed in the chair, eyes cold … uncaring … although she seemed slightly bewildered. 'Kate … are you okay?'

'We'd better get back before it gets dark.' A brief wan smile, and she beckoned the waitress for the bill.

What a turn around. One minute she was full of light and laughter, the next … it made me shudder to see her like that.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Six

We walked to the car in silence, Kate just ahead, arms swinging violently at her sides. I scuttled behind with my carrier bag banging into my legs.

Once on the road, she seemed to ease a little; her hand grabbing the gear stick a little less brutally, and she reduced her speed.

Darkness was creeping across the landscape, blanketing the world, smothering out vestiges of light from the day. I looked out of the window, but saw nothing except her reflection on the glass. I saw her take sly looks at the side of my head, unaware I could see her. The indicator sounded, and I felt the car slow, as she pulled into a lay by that ended on the crest of a hill.

'Need to get some air.' And she was gone, out of the car, striding to the precipice's edge with determination.

I scurried after her, nearly strangling myself with my seatbelt in the process.

Standing behind her reminded me of the Friedrich painting I had seen years ago, the one with the man standing at the edge of a cliff. It had always unnerved me, as the man seemed unaware of what he had, and only focused on something out of his grasp … something unobtainable.

Well… that was her … her stance … the rigidity of her body … the unwavering focus staring into nothing. Although it wasn't foggy looking over the Worth Valley, the darkness acted like a shroud, her expression showing how she was unclear about what she was seeing. She seemed to be fighting some kind of demon, wrestling with some innate calling that made her stand there on the edge.

I carefully walked up beside her, purposefully avoiding looking at her. I just wanted to make sure she knew I was there for her. The view of the Pennines was breathtaking. Shadows flitting and dancing over the bleak landscape, hiding the ethereal essence of this stepping-stone between earth and heaven.

Cold wind whipped our hair into each other's until it was a tangled mess. I pulled my jacket closer around me, trying to ward off the chill … the chill not only created by the disappearing sun and the cool wind, but also by Kate's refusal to let me in.

It must have been twenty minutes before she spoke, her voice so low I had to strain my ears to catch her words in the wind.

'You can see them too, can't you?' Emotionless eyes stared straight ahead into the desolate landscape.

'See who?' I moved closer, trying to reach her … trying to reach into her and … just … just …

Blue eyes turned to face me, despair evident. 'Them.' Her look gripped my heart and froze the blood in my veins. This was surreal. How could she be so full of life … so carefree one moment, and then the next …?

I placed my hand on her arm and felt the tension. 'Kate … please tell me. Who?'

The sob came from nowhere, but I wasn't surprised. I pulled her to me, bringing her head down to rest on my shoulder, whilst my hands rubbed gently across her arms and back.

In between the sobbing I heard her stumbling over words, almost nonsensically, about how they wanted her dead … wanted to hurt us both. Mothering instincts came over me, and I tried to calm her with soft words, gentle touches … Vulnerability screamed from her … this noble, strong woman, who gave the impression of invincibility.

Truth be told, I don't think she was scared … even now as I held her. What she was displaying now was grief - pure and simple.

The weight of her pulled us down to the ground where I held her shaking body. It would have been a sight to witness: me comforting Kate, shushing her, soothing her fears with gentle strokes and whispered promises. Her head was tucked underneath my chin, and she was cramped up into an almost comical shape, her large frame exceeding the space I had to give her. But we managed.

I slid my fingers through her hair, untangling the knots the wind caused, the silky strands pulling away easily but regrouping into tousled knots again. And then … I just waited.

And waited.

The shaking stopped, eventually. The pain began to subside, and allowed me to reach her … allowed me to comfort her.

She tilted her face upwards, capturing my eyes with her own, the sorrow still hidden beneath the surface. My thumb brushed the moisture from her skin. Blue eyes flitted closed and reopened instantly, the sorrow all but gone, but something else taking its place.

'I need to tell you … need you to know the truth.' A crack in her voice near the end. A slight jerk … a bump … a signal to my soul she was going to tell me something I wouldn't like.

I swallowed, nervously. 'What is it, baby?'

Kate sat up, leaving the embrace of my arms so suddenly they had to wait to realise she was gone … the chill of the early evening causing a shudder to cascade down my spine. But was it the coolness of the day that chilled me? Kate had said something about somebody wanting to hurt us both … and my heart sped up. I didn't care about myself, but I would kill anybody who touched a hair on this woman's head.

'Tell me, Abbie - you do see them, don't you?'

'Who, sweetheart?'

'The ghosts from the house.'

I stiffened. An obvious yes. Honestly speaking, I hadn't seen the woman or the man since I had come back, but I had seen them. And Kate knew this, didn't she? She had been there when I saw the man lurking near the woods … she had seen him too … even told me who he was. She had even told the crowd at the dinner party about the three ghosts. But had I ever told her about her look a like?

'Yes … I've seen them, but not lately.' I said instead.

'Do you know who they are?'

'You told me the man was an ancestor of yours … remember? The night of Enid's death?' she nodded her head, her expression pensive.

'And?'

'And … I saw a woman …' her face leaned closer to mine, making it near impossible to think straight. 'Who looked a lot like you …'

'Like me?' She was incredulous. 'Like me? More like you, you mean?'

My turn to look surprised. 'I've never seen any … thing there that looked like me - except me of course. She always looked like you … but I … I … don't really know if I had seen her or dreamt her.' Kate's face told me it was no dream … I had seen something … or should I say someone?

We were quiet for a while, trying to digest the information. A sigh burst from her, escaping into the atmosphere in a fine mist.

'My brother used to see them all of the time.' I could hear her swallowing rapidly, trying to control her voice. 'I thought he was imagining things, as you do. He had always suffered with his nerves … even as a child.' I watched the tear glide effortlessly down her cheek. 'And then when he kept on saying he saw things … saw people … who weren't really there …'

'Go on.'

'Well … that's why I didn't come back straight away … I thought he was over reacting … thought he just needed to get away for a while. He told me he'd seen a man standing at the foot of his bed many times, just staring at him.' She stretched her legs out in front of her groaning at the stiffness there, and giving herself the opportunity to assemble her thoughts. 'He said he looked like us … you know … black hair, blue eyes … but callous and cruel. I don't know why he thought that … it must have been just a feeling he had.'

'Did he say anything else about him?'

Kate closed her eyes trying to recollect a memory long buried,. Long eyelashes flickered open and she turned to face me, confusion drawn clearly on her chiselled face. 'Well … actually, yes.' My heart began to thud as I waited for her reply. 'He said it didn't always appear as a man at first … he would hear something, a scuffling of sorts. Then a bright orb shape would appear to hover …' she laughed at this point. Dark and cynical laughter. 'Bloody hell … this sounds like a chapter out of one of those crappy gothic books.' The laugh again. I sat, silent.

A cough sounded from her throat. 'Erm … where was I? Oh yes … chapter six …' A sardonic smile. 'As I was saying, it … he … appeared as an orb shape sometimes and flitted around the room, taunting him by coming right up to his face. Personally, I don't believe it for a second.'

'But …' I stammered, 'that happened to me about two weeks after coming to the house.' She looked me squarely in the face, and I could see her weighing up the options. Either, believe me and her brother and accept that things happen that can't be explained: or disregard everything we had both said and stick with a rational explanation, whatever that could be.

A stream of air trickled through her teeth, an indication she was coming to terms with something, but she didn't say anything more about it.

'Tell me what else, Kate.' I put my arm around her shoulder, needing the contact, and knowing so did she.

A deep breath. A pause. And then she began.

The tale centred on her great great uncle, his wife and his sister, and events leading up to suicide. I was shocked by this admission but stayed quiet throughout.

She told me about William Thomas, an out and out bastard who ruled everyone by fear. Rape, violence and hatred made up his profile. When it came to his sister, Kate's face softened. Katherine Thomas was the complete opposite of him, with a warm, caring way all wrapped up in a beautiful person.

'He took over Forester's Dwell in 1913 … everyone in the area believed he somehow drove his father into an early grave.' She stopped here, readying herself for the next part of her story. Everything she said after that illustrated a bully, and like all bullies, he was a coward to boot. Tales of how he dodged active duty until it was unavoidable, and how he didn't return straight away after the war.

All the time she was speaking, I couldn't take my eyes from her face. She became enraptured with her tale, adding bits here and there to show how hated the man really was, and how Kate suffered with every action he took. When it came to the part when he returned from war, I was surprised to see her face soften, as I had expected her to become bitter again.

'When he returned, he didn't come alone. He had got married before he went to France.'

'To Vivian.' I stated.

'How …'

'Just a guess.' I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her fingers, fingers that were desperately cold. 'Why don't we go and sit in the car? It's bitter out here.' She nodded, and broke away from my arm that was casually draped over her shoulder.

After standing up, unsteadily at first, she offered me her hand to help me up, which I thankfully accepted.

We sat in the car with the heater on full for about ten minutes, trying to warm through our chilled bones. There was no point forcing her to talk until she felt relaxed enough … so … I waited for her to begin again.

'Vivian Wells … that was her name … Vivian.' Her face was wistful, like someone talking about someone they had known but lost. 'Poor girl … she didn't know what hit her when she came up here.' A snort. 'But it wasn't long before the bastard started treating her in the same way as he did everyone else.'

'But why?'

'Why not? Especially after he noticed how well Vivian and Kate were getting on.' Blue eyes met mine in the dim light of the car. 'They were in love … Vivian and Kate I mean.'

'They were lovers?'

'I don't know if they were lovers, only that they were in love. Kate … Kate asked Vivian to go away with her …'

'To the colonies, I know.'

Kate looked at me strangely. I didn't respond, just sat and waited for her to continue. 'Yes … to the colonies. William found out and forced Vivian to give Kate up.' I looked incredulous at this. 'You must remember, Abbie … this was 1919. People were not so understanding in those days. Even if it had been with a man … Jesus … her family name would have been ruined, let alone running off with another woman.'

I silently nodded, fully understanding how someone could live their life in a sham of a marriage just to save face. At least I had the freedom to eventually get out … Poor Vivian … poor Kate for that matter.

'It all happened the night of the Estate ball. Kate had already asked Vivian to leave with her, but she had said no. Kate tried to get her to agree at the party, but William had forced her to publicly deny her. Are you all right, Abbie? Your face …' I felt the colour drain from me. This was my dream, the one I had had not long after getting to Forester's Dwell.

'She killed herself, didn't she? Kate, I mean?' Kate nodded solemnly. 'Did she throw herself from the Keep?' Another nod. Images flooded through my head of the woman, distraught with rejection, throwing herself from the tower. I could still feel the utter desperation I felt the night I too had wanted to end it all.

The night I had first kissed Kate.

'That wasn't the end of it though. A week later, Vivian drowned herself in the lake.'

My stomach rolled, a flush spread through my body, but a cold sweat clung to me. 'They both … both …'

She nodded, her face grim. I started to shake. I don't know why. The lake … the lake I had seen Kate stare into on two occasions, staring like she was in another world.

'Abbie?'

I couldn't answer her. All I could think about was Kate's face staring across the lake, and the words that she had said.

'You've come back to me.'

And her reaction to me being plain old Abbie Jameson - just another guest, even though I hadn't told her my name at the time. She thought I was Vivian for some unknown reason. What she was feeling … what I thought we were both feeling … was a remnant of a past love. She was in love with someone who had been dead for nearly ninety years.

The feeling of nausea gave way to anger so quickly I didn't give myself time to think.

I looked at her coldly and the words shot out from between clenched teeth, like my mouth was trying to stop me from making the biggest mistake of my life.

'What the fuck is your game?' Kate's eyes widened at my words.

'Can't get the real thing so you thought I'd do … is that it?' Her mouth was working but the words were stuck somewhere, probably in 1919.

Anger raged. I raged along side it. I was seething with anger, and hurt. I'll admit it now, the thing I did next was totally out of character for me … honestly.

I slapped her. Hard. So hard my fingers stung like crazy and vibrations shot up my arm. Even in the darkness of the car I could see the mark across her cheek. She hadn't flinched … not even blinked. Her hand lifted slowly from its resting place on her lap to gently touch the side of her face. Her look was incredulous; eyes that had once been bewitching were now bewildered.

'What have …'

I didn't give her a chance to finish … to make up excuses … to lead me on even further. My hand was on the door handle; not daring to look at her in case I hit her again. I couldn't look at her in case I gave in … accepted her love for someone else as mine… to love her through me.

The disgust within catapulted my emotions into the dark as the cold air hit my face. Kate clutched wildly at my sleeve, her pleas for me to get back in the car … her voice thick with panic. I shook myself free dismissing her with my back.

How dare she try to stop me leaving? How dare she lie to me … lead me on … pretend I was something more to her than a … a … substitute? I was devastated. The anger, I knew, was a mere prelude to a hurt so deep I knew I'd be unable to understand.

I was marching away from the car now, anger making my short legs work that much harder, driving me forward to god knows where. I was in the middle of the Pennines, in January, in the dark. And boy was I pissed.

Garbled mutterings left my lips. Nothing made sense … and not just the words. This situation … how could I have let myself get in this deeply? Perhaps my love for her had also been an illusion. Why had I been so stupid? I'd known I wasn't gay. It was that fucking place - Forester's Dwell. I'd even been aware of something 'bewitching' me from the start. It had made me love Kate for its own sick purposes.

I had to break free, but Kate was behind me. I could feel her … hear her shouting for me to stop … the panic again … I could feel the thudding of her boots on the road. I walked on.

A firm grip landed at the top of my left arm and I was spun around to face her, her eyes blazing with utter panic. I struggled in her grip, tried to pull away, but she held me fast.

'Abbie … Abbie … for God's sake … stop!' The tone was desperate. She began to shake me, causing me to struggle more. Then I kicked her … hard … right in the shin.

'For fuck's sake!' But she let go … and I was off at a run.

Grabbing fingers clutched at my jacket and pulled me around. I didn't have time to fight her off as she kissed me, violently, crushing my lips to hers like she was trying to prove something to them … prove something to me.

Her arms held me fast, pinning my rebellious body into place; suffocating the need within me to fight. The kisses were unforgiving; her mouth …unrelenting; her tongue demanding entrance, ignoring the tightness of my lips. Lips that were swollen … bruised … aching to open and let her in.

And they did.

The kiss held flames of passion, which were unleashed inside my mouth, causing my insides to ignite and forget the reason why I had left her … the reason I had to leave.

My traitorous hands slipped up her arms and around her neck, only to gather in her hair and to stroke the side of her throat. A moan filled my mouth and I felt a burning need in my core to take this woman here … to take her …now. It felt too good, standing on top of a hill, in the dark, in the cold, in the arms of this woman. Too good … my lips falling headlong into the sensuous disillusionment of the moment.

My body had turned on me … defected through sheer need of her, conspirators in its desire. My thigh slipped between her legs, needing to hear her moan, groan, whisper my name … let me know she knew it was me she was with. Her fingers dug into my flesh, pumping it, kneading it, digging into my backside, forcing me closer into her.

Her lips ripped away from mine, leaving them starving and bare, only to pull me into her, the side of my face crushing against her breasts. Heartbeats hammered against my eardrums, panting breaths landing on my hair, her arms mashing me into her. I gave in willingly.

Words softly spoken landed in my ear. 'I love you, Abbie … only you … only ever you …' Her arms released their hold, symbolically freeing me, allowing me to leave if I wanted.

I didn't.

Ever.

I looked into her blue eyes, and was swallowed inside. They were glistening and so full … I gasped at the sight of them. There was no denying what I saw reflected there … it was pure unadulterated love.

Love … for me.

I pulled her head down until her lips brushed softly against my own. And I loved her. Pure and simple. Maybe the house and its ghosts had played their part, but if this love wasn't real, I doubted if anything was.

'Let's go.' Simple words … short and to the point.

But behind those simple words, a message … and so much promise.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Seven


The atmosphere within the car was thick with longing, and the journey home seemed to take an age. I caught myself stroking her arm as it held the gear stick: her strong forearm, rippled under my touch. Thoughts of how her arms felt around me increased my yearning for her.

I can't remember how we got back to her room. I can't remember getting out of the car, going past reception and up the stairs. All I can remember is what happened as soon as the door clicked shut behind us. I was intoxicated … under the influence … using my homing device of the drunken me … to stagger home … with her.

Kate's mouth met mine in a frenzy, swallowing me inside, as she pinned me to the door. I felt my coat fall from me, my shirt ripped from my body, buttons scuttling into hiding, afraid of what was to come.

I was not idle. I pulled her sweater over her head, taking in the dishevelled look. Her hair was tangled and primitive, her eyes focused on my mouth, my lips, my face. The juices wept from me, amazed at the sheer force one look could do. I was helpless … captured by her look … arrested by her will … spellbound by the moment.

Nipping teeth assaulted my throat. A parody of past kisses. They showed their superiority in an agonisingly visceral way … but with a gentleness that belied the primal act of dominance. It was primitive perfection … the basis of hunger … an act of survival.

Survive I did. She slammed me harder against the door, her hips pumping into me, her hands frantic in their journey to liberate the fire blazing from below … from above … from in between. I wanted to feel her skin next to mine, her body rubbing against mine.

I pushed her away. Pulled myself from the cold wood. 'Not here. Bed. Naked.' She looked at me, desire evident, and swiftly started removing her last items of clothing. I did the same and met her on the bed.

She was on top of me as soon as I landed on the mattress; her face buried itself between my breasts, her hands wanton in their journey over supple skin. My legs wrapped themselves around her waist and I lifted my body up to greet her need. I could feel the juices flowing from her, trickling down her thighs in readiness for this moment. She lifted me, her muscular arms easily taking the weight of my body, and pulled me closer into her. I straddled her, comfortably, exquisitely pushing downwards, hunting for purchase on her body.

Her fingers slipped in from behind to tantalise my core from the back. Soft then hard …soft then hard. I couldn't stop the rhythm …didn't want to. I just wanted more.

A growl left my lips as I lunged at her throat, wanting to bite my way inside her, eat her whole, swallow her up until she was part of me. Her fingers were tormenting me, the pressure constant but becoming too slow and too soft for the tumultuous emotions churning through me.

'Fuck me, Kate … Oh God … please fuck me.' I had never asked anyone to do that before, but I needed her to be harder, take control, drive me over the edge. Her kisses became more insistent, and maybe a little crazed.

Then, as if by sheer will alone, she gently lifted me away until I was kneeling a short distance from her, the only physical contact we shared was her hands on my hips. I was panting … and a little confused. Why had she stopped?

'Turn around, baby.' A voice of velvet, deep, rich … seductive. Who could refuse? I turned on the spot and felt her come up behind me. Felt her breasts on my back, rubbing into my skin, nipples carving her name deep into my flesh. 'Lean forward, honey.'

And I did, leaving my back cold and exposed, missing the contact of her immediately.

Her fingers danced along my back, tracing the outline of my spine … up and down … up and down. Fingers turned into palms, … up and down … up and down, each time getting lower and lower, until they cupped my backside, only to escape to the top again, leaving me wanting.

I felt her kneel behind me, her hands continuing their action. But instead of her hands cupping my rear, one ventured along the crevice and downwards, towards the well of fluid that waited for her, the other gripped my hip and pulled me to her.

My body was rocking, scooting back into her, needing her to take me again and again and again.

Two fingers entered me, and I simultaneously pushed onto her and groaned loudly, the exquisite feeling of being filled clouding my senses. I could feel her kneeling behind me, grinding herself into me as she took me from behind. Another finger entered and then another. I couldn't stop the feeling cascading through me, this pleasure … this fulfilment.

Feverish bodies … hands … hips … pumped and ground and throbbed into each other. The image of her fucking me from behind made me crazy with desire. The need within was escalating at a frightening rate … and I was powerless to her thrusting, the slapping of skin on skin, the feeling of being filled by her hand.

Faster and faster … I couldn't hold on much longer. Faster and faster … I was going to come. Faster and faster … I could hear Kate's breathing behind me, grunting out each plunge she meted out inside me and behind me, within me and on me.

A low keening noise started within my gut and steadily made its way up through my chest and out through my mouth until it sounded loud even to my ears. I knew I was coming … the sensations were rampant … the need was overbearing in its intensity … the room was fading away and I was slowly getting sucked into sweet oblivion.

'Kkkkkkaaaaattteee … oohhh ggggoooooddddd ooooohhh gggooooodddd!' and I was over into ecstasy, over into the wide blue yonder, over into the place where reality ceases to exist, and I did so, screaming out her name.

She continued to plunge into me, drawing out the sensation of my coming into an agonising pleasure. Her hips were pounding into me and I could hear her grunting faster and faster until … 'Aaaaaaaaaaaabbbbiiiieeee … oooohhh gggooodddd …ssswweeeeettt... jjjjeessssuuuss!' Juices splashed onto my skin. I wasn't sure if they were hers, or mine, but they made us slip and slide together, glorifying in the feel of our joined coming.

I fell forward, the pressure of kneeling too much. Kate landed on top of me, sweating and panting into my hair, her body full length over my own. Our breathing was erratic; hearts hammered loudly into each other.

We lay there, struggling to compose ourselves … struggling to calm our raging blood.

Steadily, our breathing calmed, and hearts began to pump with a sense of normalcy.

It was weird … but … our heartbeats … weird. The rhythms of our heartbeats were the same, like they were synchronised … like they were one. And then mine skipped …

Kate began to nibble the back of my neck, soft lips danced over saturated skin … and I forgot the heartbeats … forgot everything apart from the feel of those lips, that tongue, gliding down my spine, down down down, until they landed at their target.

And then … I forgot to breathe.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Eight

We lay quietly. Dawn sneaked through the window and cast shadows around the room, fingering everything, touching it with her cool grey fingertips, bringing light back into the world.

We had slept little and exhaustion had taken its toll, but I didn't want to miss this feeling of being held by her, lying in her arms … being held by her.

The previous evening's lovemaking had started fierce, primal, an affirmation of each other, a taking of sorts. But it had ended so beautifully, tenderly, gracefully. Celestial. That's a better word … celestial. The feelings we shared didn't belong on this earth. They were … divine.

Eyes closed and we slept on and off until the sun was high in the sky. A loud knocking on the door caused a string of mumbled curses to pour from Kate's mouth as she untangled me from her body.

Minutes later, she returned, with a tray full of delicious smells met my nose and kick started my stomach into consciousness.

'Jenny thought we might be hungry so sent us some brunch.' I felt a stab of guilt about Jenny and her obvious attraction, but the aroma drifting from the tray pushed all guilt out of the picture.

I slid off the bed and slipped on a t-shirt, Kate's scent covered my body in another layer of her instantly. I smiled. She looked at me and she raised an eyebrow. I raised one back. A crooked grin covered her face.

We ate and chatted about sundries, comfortable in the vagueness of conversation.

But … being a woman - a nosey one at that … I had to know.

'Tell me about Vivian.' Blue eyes shot up from her task of buttering a piece of toast, held my gaze and then went back to their previous task. Annoyance roared up inside me, and I was just about to go off again when she spoke.

'Vivian … well … I've seen her on and off ever since I was a child.' Both my eyebrows rose in surprise at this nugget of information, remembering what she had said about her brother and that she thought he was hallucinating. 'But … this past year … God … it's like she wants to tell me something … like there's something I've got to do, but I don't know what. I honestly thought Jim was lying, and I never told a soul about what I had seen.'

It was the same way I had been feeling but I kept quiet and allowed her to continue.

'I keep finding myself in funny places … doing weird things. I wake up in the night covered in sweat and feel I need to do something … do anything, but I don't know what it is.' She dropped the toast back on her plate, her appetite lost. I scooped her hand into my own, trying to show her I understood … and boy, did I.

The silence between us was waiting to be broken, and break it I did. 'Same here.'

Questioning blue eyes begged me to continue. 'Even before I came here … I … well … I had dreamed of her, of Kate … no, not you … Kate, the other Kate.' I leaned over and gently kissed her lips, the contact gone even before it began. 'I kept on dreaming things … hearing things … believing I could see things if I just looked hard enough.'

I lay back onto the pillows. She moved the tray from the bed and scooted up to lie beside me. 'My marriage was over, I couldn't take anymore … something was niggling me to get away … like … if I got away, everything would sort itself out.' Her fingers were softly stroking my forearm, and her expression was of concern. 'Then Janet offered to pay …' Kate mock gasped, and I laughed, breaking the tension, 'Yes pay for me to get away, to regroup and get my act together. She said she hadn't even asked for one of your brochures, but it had arrived in the post, the day before I told her my muse had flown … and I wouldn't be writing anymore.'

'But … if I remember rightly, your agent's office sent an email asking for a brochure. We don't just send them out to anyone.' A kiss landed on the end of my nose. 'I'll have to check that out.'

She leaned back on the bed, stretched her long legs out and made a contented mewling noise, before she turned her face towards me again. Her expression held expectation.

'What?'

'You haven't finished. What happened when you got here?'

So I told her … told her everything, the word on the computer screen, the orb, the crying in the hallways, the figure in the bathroom, and the presence in the dining room. I told her how I had seen someone just like her throw herself from the top of the Keep. Her face showed incredulity. Everything was now out in the open.

I even told her about my dream, the vivid one, how I thought she was between my legs, although I was blushing furiously as I spoke.

Her response was not what I expected. 'When was that?'

My turn to look surprised. 'Erm … I'm not too sure of the date, but it was after Enid's note … the night we nearly … erm, kissed.'

She threw her head back and laughed. I sat there stunned for a minute and then a little annoyed. 'What's so funny, Thomas?'

I had to wait until she composed herself enough to speak, then she starting laughing again. It was only the expression on my face that stopped her, made her swallow a couple of times before she continued. And by this time I was pissed off - big style.

'Sorry about that, honey.' I cocked my head to the side and glared at her through narrowed eyes. 'Honestly … I wasn't laughing at you … I …' I narrowed them even more. 'It's me I'm laughing at! No … don't get up … sorry …' and she started bloody laughing again.

'That's it, Thomas. I'm going for a shower.'

'Wait … wait! I'm sorry … please!' She grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the bed, laying her body across me so I couldn't move. 'Abbie … listen … I'm not laughing at you!'

'Bloody looks like it,' was my muffled response.

'No … on the night you said … the night that Enid died. Well … I had a dream too.' I was struggling like crazy to escape from underneath her. Then I stopped.

'What did you say?'

'I said … I had a dream that night also - quite a vivid one.'

The blush was creeping up her face, making her glow. What an unusual experience seeing Kate blush … she looked cute in an extremely red kind of way. 'What about?'

'You … or as I thought at the time.' She cleared her throat. 'Let's just say that what you experienced in your dream … well … I did too.'

'You felt someone doing that to you?' The pitch in my voice had risen.

'Not exactly. I was … erm … well it … I was the person doing that to you. You know, what you experienced. I did too.' She looked shy, worried about how I would respond. So I returned the compliment.

I threw my head back and laughed. She looked startled for a moment but then she joined in.

What a sight we must have looked … both half naked … her sprawled half across me, pinning me in place, and we were both laughing about the most embarrassing thing we would ever have to admit.

It was wonderful.

Nearly thirty minutes later, we had finished our brunch, emptied the teapot and talked about all that we knew up to now. The facts seemed to be slipping slowly, but surely, into place.

Firstly, we had both seen William and agreed he looked like an evil bastard. Next, Kate had seen Vivian and I had seen Kate … but we hadn't seen our 'look-a-likes'. After that … dreams, voices, hallucinations, smells - mine lavender - Kate's Lily of the Valley … things that went bump in the night … and on and on.

Kate hadn't seen the journal though, only the page found in Enid's room, and that wasn't fully read until recently. I told her about the writing in the corner of the sheet 'AJ - this is you.' She looked puzzled, and when I reminded her they were my initials, she looked down right confused.

Eventually, we came up with a conclusion. Not a brilliant one by any stretch of the imagination, but a conclusion of sorts.

It seemed as if we were needed in some way and all we had to do now was to figure out what for.

Easier said than done.

**************************************************************

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Days came and went with no sign from our look-a-likes and their evil companion. For the last part I was thankful, I didn't relish bumping into him any time soon, especially now I had a fuller understanding of who he was.

Our relationship was getting stronger. Stronger than I ever thought possible. And every minute spent with Kate made me realise what I had been missing all these years. Obviously, that steered my mind to my ex - unfortunately.

My solicitor called and set a court date, although they still hadn't heard anything from Pete. It should still be standard procedure even though he was contesting the pre nuptial on the grounds he was a sponging bastard. The police were still looking out for him for the damage he had caused on both Janet's property, and mine, but I doubted they could actually pin that on him. Even though he was caught on camera entering my house, he still had the alibi of having lived at that address, and no actual evidence of trashing the place. As for Janet's - there was nothing - no fingerprints - nothing.

I had to just wait it out … see what would happen in London when I went down for the hearing. I wasn't going to spend any more time on him; he had had enough of my life already. The rest belonged with Kate.

As for being a couple of Nancy Drews, we were, in a word, shite. Everything we tried to do came up blank. We searched all through the family records - zilch. The only things we came up with were the same things we already knew.

We had to think this through … sit down and think without sitting too near each other, and especially not close enough to touch. That always took us off task. So sue me - I was totally and utterly head over heels in love with her and I liked to show it … if you know what I mean?

It was nearly the end of the week when she came up with 'The Plan'. It was so simple; I was surprised it had taken us so long to figure it out.

The first step was easy. Find their graves and see if we could deduce anything from that.

Unlike many of the larger houses, Forester's Dwell did not have its own cemetery. Stranger still, only Kate's grave, not Vivian's, was to be found in the family plot at the local church. Very simply it read:

Katherine Thomas
Aged 24
1896 - 1919
daughter of
James and Elizabeth Thomas
and
sister of William

It seemed strange to be looking at the grave of the woman I had seen so vividly on many occasions, never mind what else had gone on. Kate stood there, staring at the grey stone slab that commemorated her ancestor's short life.

Next to Kate's grave stood the grave of her mother, father and brother. All in the same grave, but she was not included. Even more odd.

As if reading my thoughts, Kate muttered, 'It's because she committed suicide. She's lucky they allowed her to be buried in the churchyard at all.'

Sadness filled me. That poor woman. Even in death she had been cast out from society, her death mirroring her life …'Not acceptable … not the norm'.

I stood there, staring at the etched words, Kate moved to the other side of the grave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her stoop down and tug at something. She was pulling weeds from a grave that stood about ten feet away, her face solemn.

Quietly, I walked up behind her and rested my hand on her shoulder, trying to offer some kind of support, for what - I didn't know. Until I saw the gravestone:

James Thomas 1942 - 2000
Died aged 58 years
Beloved husband of
Elizabeth Thomas 1948 - 2000
Died aged 52
Both taken tragically from our lives
May they find peace together.

Her parents. My God … how awful. They had died in the same year, and 'tragically'. No wonder Kate's eyes were sometimes filled with sadness, and loss.

Underneath those names was another, newer, inscription.

James Thomas 1972 - 2002
Beloved son of the above
May he find peace at last.

'James was the lucky one. At least he got to be buried with the people he loved.' Her voice was melancholic, yet tinged with hope for some reason.

I rubbed her shoulders, feeling the muscles dance underneath my fingertips, feeling the tension ebb away. She continued tidying the grave, and I felt a little intrusive, so I left her with her thoughts and her family and walked over to the yew trees that were standing a little way off.

Her lips were moving, like she was having a conversation with someone, and then it dawned on me … she was talking to them … telling them about what was happening … telling them how she was feeling. I could see it written all over her face … the unburdening.

And then she smiled, such a sweet smile; I thought my heart would melt. She looked so young, so innocent, not at all like the woman everybody knew. She was their daughter, his sister, and a part of a family that was separated by something unavoidable, something so tragic. And my heart wept for her … wept with her.

After what seemed to be a matter of seconds, she was standing straight, dusting the dampness from the bottom of her jeans. Blue eyes turned to me; sadness flitted away to be replaced by a twinkle … just for me. I smiled back, big and wide, trying to convey all I felt for her in one small action. And with one last look to the stone, she walked towards me, and with every step I saw the confidence flooding back into her.

As she neared, I put my hand out, which she took within her warm one and squeezed gently. No words were spoken … it was just understood …we gave each other comfort and protection by just being there.

'Hungry?'

'Aren't I always?'

Her face split open as the laughter came out, shaking her head from side to side. 'Woman … you crack me up.' And she set off laughing again, with me, joining in, before pulling her in for a hug. God … she always felt so good.

************************************************

Lunch was a simple affair. Chicken salad and orange juice. Very healthy. Until dessert that is … chocolate brownies covered in extra thick cream.

'Don't you ever throw up?' The amusement on her face whilst watching me eat made me drag it out even longer. I licked the spoon slowly after each spoonful, making mewling noises and fluttering my eyes closed in orgasmic pleasure. I caught her swallowing hard a few times, but her eyes never left my mouth. At one point she even licked her lips. 'Do you want a taste?' I asked her, the double meaning clear as I poked my tongue out and slipped it around my mouth.

Another deep gulp … and was that a blush? Gotcha. I giggled like a girl and quickly finished my desert. No point dragging it out … didn't want it losing its appeal now, did I?

We discussed all the information we had to date. Although it seemed quite a lot, it still didn't help us know why we were needed.

'We're missing something … something really simple. We need to think … what have we missed?' I nodded at what she said, but my mind was completely blank. Each word bouncing off the vacuous space between my brain and my skull. I think the smile I gave her reflected my state of mind, 'Are you okay, Abbie? You look … you look …'

'Simple.'

'Well … if you put like that …'

'Very funny, Kate.' I asserted myself and tried to look intelligent. 'Now … we need to think.'

Quietness enshrouded us, leaving us to contemplate our next move. Ideas soon came freely enough, but they were, basically, crap.

'What we need to do is find out where Vivian is buried, then we can move on from there.'

'How would we find that out? It didn't even mention her in the family history.'

'We need to get a list of all the cemeteries around this area, and systematically go through them one by one.'

A memory shot through my brain so fast it seemed it was connected by Broadband. It was excitably buzzing inside my head, but I knew I had to ask Kate.

'Enid's funeral …' Blue eyes met mine in puzzlement. 'Did you go to the funeral?'

'No … I couldn't get away. I was in London sorting through some investments. Why?'

'I saw you … well … I thought it was you. In the churchyard when we were all standing around the grave.' She shook her head, telling me there was no way it could have been her. 'It was weird. At first I thought it was you, but then … I … you just seemed to vanish, like into thin air.'

'You know what we need to do?' She leaned forward, her face inches from mine. My brain fogging just through the close proximity of her. An eyebrow rose slowly into her hair as she waited for me to get myself in some kind of order. As if trying to discharge the fog in my head, as well as answer her question, I shook my head from side to side. 'Well, Watson … it is time to go to the cemetery.'

'We've just ...'

'Not that one. Where Enid is buried.'

With that, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet and towards the door. I only just had time to grab my jacket from the back of the chair.

She was so full of authority, and gave a brilliant impression of knowing what she was doing.

God … she made me hot.

**********************************************************

It took ages to get information from the people at the cemetery.

Eventually, it was the grounds man who pointed us in the right direction, towards a small grey building tucked away at the side of the entrance. Inside a really dismal smell greeted us. A sickly sweet scent that clung to the back of our throats and made my stomach pitch.

Books were laid out around the room, containing the names of lost lives.

'Well … at least we know she died in 1919,' Kate's voice cut through the cloggy atmosphere. I just nodded, not trusting the chocolate brownie to play nice.

Even though we knew when she died, it still took us nearly twenty minutes to find the right book, and then the right section. But find it we did. There … written in a fine script hand 'Vivian Thomas nee Wells'. And although I knew we were going to find it, I still felt sad, not because we had found where she was buried, but because it was confirmation she was really dead.

I know. Weird.

We took down the number she had been assigned 'VT281219'. It's amazing how we all become numbers eventually.

The map on the wall showed us where we should go, and I felt a jolt of surprise as we approached the yew tree where I had seen 'Kate' the day of Enid's funeral. 'Are you okay, Abbie?' Kate's voice … so soft … so full of concern. I didn't care we were outside, amongst the dead. I stood on my tiptoes and lightly brushed my lips over hers. A smile broke out on her face, making my heart skip around my chest, like a puppy chasing its tail.

Just think. I wasn't gay! I laughed aloud and Kate looked at me curiously. 'Don't worry, honey. Just putting some ghosts to rest.' Her face looked even more confused. 'Come on … let's find Vivian.'

The gravestone was unkempt and uncared for. A forgotten plot of land that held a woman who had died in sin … died by her own hand … died of a broken heart.

Vivian Thomas nee Wells
1898 - 1919
Aged 21

Twenty-one! The poor young girl. Twenty-one. I expected her to be as old as me or older for some reason or other. She must have been a mere girl when she met and married that bastard.

Kate's face showed the same shock as mine. That would mean she was only nineteen at the most when she got married. My God. Imagine spending your young life with a man like William Thomas (an easy picture for me to imagine. I know, I had first hand knowledge) but then to die so tragically, so young, and the minute you discovered happiness.

And all because of what society would say.

Anger bubbled within me. I wanted to scream out the unfairness of it all, how no one can choose who to love - love chooses us … not the other way around. And to think … even in death they weren't together. No wonder their spirits were so troubled.

Anger ebbed away to be replaced by acidic melancholy, a painful echo that seeped into everything I was or ever hoped to be. Mankind had so much to answer for. How can love be wrong? How can showing someone you care be wrong?

Better still … how can hatred be the right thing to do? Ostracising two people because they didn't conform to the expected norm - was that right? Driving two innocent souls to their death because they were in love - is this the given? What kind of race are we who can hate more easily than we can love; who will kill so much more quickly than we will agree, or even agree to disagree?

Loving is not a sin.

Though, ignoring love is …

**************************************************************

Exhaustion overtook me. I think it was emotional exhaustion from finding out what bastards we can all be at times. Even me. I had looked down at the possibility of being gay, just because I couldn't face the thought of not fitting in. How trite is that? How unbelievably coarse and ignorant?

If I'm honest, I think I was more disgusted with myself than the world in general. I had the ability to rise above prejudice, but I chose the easy option. The safe bet. I realised homophobia isn't necessarily from straight people - we are all guilty of this at some time in our life, often directed at ourselves.

**************************************************************

In no time at all we were back at Forester's Dwell. We were quiet on the way home, reflecting on those poor women's short lives. In a strange way, it brought things home to me, mainly about my relationship with Kate. Although society still has some ignorant people lurking there, we were a damn sight more fortunate than our predecessors.

We at least had some modicum of freedom, the ability to live and love without the serious threats those women had to deal with. I know … some people are still in that situation, whether it comes from society or within, but at least we are moving forward to some degree, slowly, but hopefully, surely.

I loved Kate … loved her. Life without her seemed impossible now. I had come to know the woman behind the mask she used to wear, know her gentleness, her tenderness, her passion, her beliefs and fears. Even the little things like how she liked her coffee, that she couldn't stand Marmite … not even the smell. I even knew she always checked inside her boots before she put them on in case something had decided to take up residence.

Little things. And it's the little things that build and build and make the big things matter.

We showered and had something to eat, the quietness not affecting us at all … happy just to be together.

I decided to get some writing done and Kate had to sort out some of the affairs of the hotel but before she left, she pulled me into her arms and gave me gentle kiss. So tender, so featherlike, it could have been a figment of my imagination. Her arms surrounded me and held me in such comfort, the smell of her filling my senses.

And then she was gone, leaving me standing there, filled with her.

Bliss.

**************************************************************

I tried to write, but the memories of the day distracted me. So, after about three hours writing nonsense, I decided to call it a night, even though it was only about nine thirty.

Drained. That's the word. Drained. Leaving me an empty shell that contained nothing but air and my thoughts of Kate.

Resigned, I changed into a t-shirt and climbed into bed, sleep already had me in his grasp.

**************************************************************

Chapter Thirty

Something woke me up, I'm not sure what, but it made me wake with a start. I knew instantly Kate wasn't next to me. Her side of the bed was empty and cold.

I'm not sure how long I had been asleep, I couldn't see the clock for some strange reason.

Another noise, but further away from me than before.

I sat up, my stomach in knots … my heart racing.

Someone had been in here with me, and deep down I knew it hadn't been Kate. I also knew they were just on the other side of the door.

Well, if we were going to see this out once and for all, I couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. I decided to investigate.

Yes … I know …what is it with people in films when something evil is lurking in a house they have desire to follow it? The big difference was … the presence didn't seem to be evil … it just seemed to want me, for some unexplainable reason.

Decision made, I threw the covers back and slipped out of bed. The room was light enough to see my way to the door, and I quickly pulled on my slippers.

The corridor was empty. Dimly lit and eerily quiet. A cold shiver travelled down from my neck to the base of my spine. I was freaking myself out … there was nothing th…

A shuffling sound startled me, followed by a voice. Soft, warm, inviting. I couldn't catch what was being said, but I knew the words were directed at me. The tone was beguiling … captivating … begging me to follow.

Although I felt like I would either pass out with fear, pee myself or shake so much I couldn't move (or all three), I moved forward … nervous … shitting my pants … but I followed.

The hallway's lights, although already dim, seemed to flicker as I made my way towards the voice. Words were becoming clearer now, and I started to catch snippets of what was being asked … until finally, I could hear the same refrain being whispered down the corridor.

'Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.' Over and over again. 'Come to me.'

I felt hypnotised … unable to ignore the voice that was so full of loss … grief … crying out for me to help it in some way … crying out for me to go to them.

Who was I to refuse?

I swallowed my fear, sucked in a breath and left the safety of the doorway.

The voice led me further down the labyrinth of hallways, appearing different to how I remembered them in the cold light of day. To say I was unnerved would be an understatement. My mind was babbling … I always babble when I'm scared … actually there was one time … I know … I know …

There I was, in the middle of the night, in a t-shirt and slippers (and no bloody underwear), standing at the open doorway leading to the Keep. Standing there … listening to the moans and pleas from someone I couldn't see … but could feel. Feel the despair, the ultimate reliance that I, in some fucked up way, could help.

Another deep breath and I climbed the first step: my heart literally in my mouth. I could hear its incessant thumping in my ears. I could have gotten Kate, but I doubted a ghost would wait around. We needed to resolve this once and for all, and unfortunately, it seemed the task had fallen to me.

I can do this. No problem, I told myself.

Big mistake.

My legs knew I shouldn't go. My hands knew I should go back to bed. My stomach was too involved in conversation with my heart to even think about telling me to leave.

The stairs loomed ahead and blurred in and out as panic set in. But that voice? Begging me … the anguish far outreaching the fear that gripped me.

There it was. The door leading to the keep, slightly open, expectant. Shit shit shit. I held my arm out and timidly pushed it outwards. Cold air rushed to greet me, circling my exposed body, caressing overheated skin. Trying to placate, trying to calm, trying to stop me turning and running for my life.

The moon was trying to hide behind the clouds, poking out briefly to spy on what I was doing, believing it was invisible, believing if I thought I was alone I may turn and leave. But how could I? You understand, don't you? Well … don't you?

Truthfully speaking, I didn't. Now I was on the rooftop the voice had gone … disappeared … vanished into my own imaginings. Once again … shit.

Then I saw her. Not in her usual spot near the edge, but further back, her face turned away, but I knew it was her … I could feel it was her. Her shoulders were heaving up and down in the throes of weeping, but … muted … deafeningly silent.

'Kate?' Nothing. No reaction. The figure stoic but broken. And again, 'Kate?' This time I stepped out into the night air, going for broke.

The shoulders froze, in mid motion, but she still had her back to me. 'Kate? Look at me, Kate.' Nothing. 'Look at me.'

She made as if to turn, my heart expectant, the knowledge of the grief I would see there gripped my throat. Then she stopped herself, and with agonising precision walked away … walked away from me … me, who was standing there waiting … waiting to see those blue, blue eyes ... eyes that in this lifetime meant everything to me.

I watched her move effortlessly to the corner of the Keep, and stand there once again. I was transfixed with her … mesmerised with her grace, her posture, her unwillingness to look at me.

'Come to me.' Spoken from the heart … fluttered on the air … to land, effortlessly inside me, only to pull the muscles in my chest into an agony of want … of a need so strong, I was powerless to step one foot in front of the other.

She still didn't turn around.

And then she was gone, to the left… and I was left there … alone … and bewildered … and maybe just a little angry.

I looked in the direction where she had disappeared and noticed a door … a great big fucking door … how on earth had I missed it? I hadn't. I was convinced I would have seen something so obvious.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I reached out to take the rusted handle, pushing down the latch. It was stuck. So I pushed down harder, feeling the metal give just a little before I felt something … or should I say, someone, behind me.

This wasn't like before when I saw Kate … that feeling of longing and despair that exuded from her spirit. No. This wasn't something I could easily mistake with how I felt when she was near. This was … how can I say it? This presence that was behind me was nothing short of evil. Plain and simple.

I didn't want to turn around. I didn't want to see what was waiting behind me, and God did I know it was waiting. Apart from the excruciating feeling of being hated, of someone wanting to inflict harm on me, I could now hear short rasping breaths, like the person was so angry they could barely contain themselves.

And I didn't want that aimed at me. I hoped if I just stood there long enough it may go away … leave … get fed up with being ignored.

I wasn't that lucky.

I was impelled to turn around. Slowly, I released my gaze from the door to see what was behind me. To see if I had been imagining things again.

Unfortunately, I hadn't.

He was there. I knew it was him although I couldn't see all of his face, just the eyes … blue …cold …filled with something I hoped I would never see directed at me.

Pure hatred.

He stood about ten feet away, but I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves … all directed at me.

Fuck.

And then, fuck again.

I couldn't go anywhere. I was trapped. He was standing directly in my path of escape, blocking the only exit.

Shit. I was in deep shit.

He started to move closer, each step felt like a slamming thump in my chest. I knew my ticket was up … knew if he got to me … well … it wasn't going to be a happy ever after was it?

I pushed my back against the door, trying to ease myself through the wood, hoping I could morph into nothing … into thin air. Groaning hinges alerted me that maybe I did have an escape after all, and I turned to frantically shake the lock which was looking rather worse for wear by this point.

I knew he was close. I could feel the hairs standing up at the nape of my neck; my spine was giving way in sheer fright, and for some unexplainable reason I wanted to laugh. Hysterically.

A growl came from behind, inhuman, and I gave the door a swift kick, nearly breaking my toes in the process.

The next thing I knew I was flying through the air, the handle leaving its place in my sweaty hand to swing back with the door. As I stumbled backwards, I could see his silhouette blocking my view outside. Then something seemed to grip my leg and down I went. My last lucid thought was … plain and simply …

'Fuck.'

***************************************************************

Chapter Thirty-One

I don't know how long I was knocked out for, all I knew was when I opened my eyes I could barely see. The room I was in had a stench that made my insides churn … musty … old … damp, and there was only a small sliver of light coming through the shutters that guarded the window to the outside world.

Pains shot up and down my back as I slowly realised I was slumped on top of something hard and uneven. I shifted one leg from under the other, trying to ease the throbbing cascading down the backs of my legs. An involuntary groan left my lips as I tried to sit up, the surface I was on top of being of no assistance.

My head pulsated, the nerves inside screaming for mercy as I attempted to get up … but failed … miserably.

The room was freezing, and I could see my own breath leaving my body in a fine mist. Numbness was starting to creep into my bones, the coldness taking hold. I was only in a t-shirt and slippers for Christ's sake, and it was the middle of winter. The tips of my fingers were beginning to lose all sense of feeling, and I was worried that if I stayed exposed to this temperature I would be in serious trouble.

Eventually, I got to my feet, every joint screaming in protest, and dragged my sorry arse to the door, frantically rubbing the blood back into my arms.

Locked.

I pulled the handle again. It didn't budge. Panic set in now. I was stuck in the room at the top of the house; nobody knew I was here.

Kate's image appeared in my mind. Shit … she would be worried sick. I pulled at the handle again, really putting some strength behind it now. Nothing. It just rattled and groaned back into place.

Shit shit shit.

Unbelievably, the room was actually getting colder, and the frenzied rubbing up and down my arms did nothing to ward of the chill that had rooted itself deeply inside. I needed to find a way out … and bloody soon.

My eyes scanned the dark room, resting on the strips of light that had painted themselves kaleidoscopically around the walls. Piles of crap were everywhere. It was like a storeroom of some sort, but it also appeared to have not seen the light of day for years.

The darkness was not helping. If I banged myself once I did it a thousand times. My hands were my eyes for the most part, fumbling and feeling their way around, searching for something that could help me.

I felt clothing of some description under my hands and lifted it closer to my face, trying to catch the rays of light in the process. A shawl type thing appeared in my hands and I hugged it to me in excitement. Fuck - it stunk to high heaven. Well … at times like this you can't be choosy.

Slipping the woollen garment over my shoulders did more than gratify the need for warmth; it kind of blanketed me in something else too … it evoked some kind of memory. I shuddered involuntarily, the images of Kate dancing about in my head … and images of someone else too … someone who looked an awful lot like me …

Another shudder. I pushed the memory, or whatever it was, to the back of my mind. My legs were still cold, and so I hunted about some more to find something that would ward off the chill.

As I was digging through a box of clothes, I felt a familiar presence behind me. I stopped … dropped the garment back down and gritted my teeth. I honestly didn't know what to expect anymore … if it was him again, what could I do? It wasn't as if I could rush him, instigate a surprise attack, belt him over the head with one of my frozen limbs or anything. He wasn't real … he wasn't a physical, palpable human being. How can you fight against that?

I could hear someone at the door, flicking the handle up and down, pushing against the wood, and I froze on the spot - literally this time … the coldness had taken a back seat to allow true unadulterated fear to take hold.

Someone was trying to get in, and the only person who knew I was there …

Crunch. The door gave in and allowed a smidgeon more light to enter. The figure stood there silently, adjusting blue eyes to the darkness.

'Abbie?'

I couldn't speak! Can you believe it? Kate was here and I didn't have the ability to answer her question. So, I did the next best thing - the thing that I seemed to be always doing of late.

I fainted.


**************************************************************

The next feeling I had was warmth. My body groaned in contentment, and I nestled into something soft and enveloping, the smell so familiar … so comforting … so Kate. I was in her arms, my top half covered with the shawl, my legs coated in cloth of some description.

My eyes finally decided to flutter open to be greeted by concerned blue.

'Abbie? Sweetheart … why were you in here?' I grumbled and nestled into her neck, relishing her body. 'Abbie?'

'It's a long story … I'll tell you later, okay?' I felt her nod her head and then pull me even closer to her.

Minutes ticked by, both of us contented to stay in each other's arms, but knowing we had to move some time or other. 'Come on. Let's get to bed. And I think I need a drink after this.' A fleeting question entered my head and I was surprised I hadn't thought of it before. 'How did you know where I was?'

'Later … I'll tell you when we get warm, okay?'

I stood, my legs somewhat shaky after my ordeal.

'What is this place anyway?'

Kate shook her head, 'Haven't a clue … didn't even know it existed until tonight.' We both looked around and noticed a room full of storage: wooden tea chests, trunks, crates and a mixture of boxes and baskets . 'Looks like this could be interesting … we'll check it out tomorrow, though. It's too cold and dark to try and sort through all of this now. Come on.'

And we left, the evening's air eerily warmer than the air inside the room.

Back in our room, Kate ordered hot chocolate, and we had a snifter of brandy for the chill in our bones. I had also slipped on some sweat pants, a jumper and some thick socks, but it still wasn't enough.

Over hot chocolate, I told Kate about the events leading to her rescuing me. Her face painted a picture of disbelief, especially when I got to the part about the silhouette of the man on the roof. At this point she put her arms around me, I think more for her benefit than mine. But I enjoyed it anyway.

Slowly, she pulled away and looked into my face, 'My poor baby … you could have been injured … or … worse.'

'But, I wasn't.' A kiss. 'And anyway … how did you know where to find me?'

Kate's face screwed up in thought. 'I don't really know. One minute I was checking through invoices, the next I was racing to the roof.' My eyebrows shot up into my fringe. 'I know … it was … it was just so bloody weird. I felt panicked … I knew something was wrong … that you were in some kind of trouble.' She stopped to hug me close to her again, 'And I felt drawn to the Keep for some unexplainable reason. Even funnier … when I got there I didn't have a bloody clue where you were … and I … thought … You know.'

I did. With all the stories we had told each other, especially with the former Kate throwing herself off the Keep - well, let's put it this way - anything is possible.

'I looked over the edge just …' She stopped, her arms crushing the life out of me, but I loved it. 'When I couldn't find you, I thought I heard you calling my name.'

'But … I didn't … I didn't even know you were there. It would have been pointless just shouting for no reason, especially up there.'

'I know you didn't, baby. But the voice … that voice … it was so much like yours … but the reason I knew it wasn't you was because of what it said.' I looked at her. 'She said "She's in here." As simply as that. You don't usually address yourself in the third person do you?'

I shook my head. Bloody hell. It was my look-a-like … on the roof … right outside the room where I'd been. 'Did you see her?' Kate shook her head, and kissed me on the forehead.

I was tired, we both were. I pulled Kate behind me. Undressing seemed like a burden, so we climbed into bed fully clothed, although I did slip off the stinking shawl.

Just before I closed my eyes, I heard Kate mumble something about investigating the room more thoroughly in the morning. I grunted in response.

She knew what I meant.

**************************************************************

Chapter Thirty- Two

Dressed in jeans and old, warm sweatshirts, we ascended the now familiar stairway to the Keep. The door at the far side looked obvious in the daylight. But at night? Who knows …

We gingerly entered the cold musty room once more. I, for one, feeling a hell of a lot more confident than I had the previous night. We began to rifle through the mess. Boxes and trunks spilled trinkets and clothes from times long gone. Most in nearly perfect condition, thus begging the question 'Why were they stashed up here, forgotten?'

We stopped for lunch and then got back to work again, adding more to the pile we wanted to examine further. It wasn't until the sun was finally giving up for the day that we found it, stashed away in the corner, hidden from everything and anyone who may have stumbled upon this room.

A box. A wooden box. A simple wooden box with a lock on the outside. This box intrigued us, mainly because we couldn't get into it and didn't want to smash it to smithereens - well I didn't, but Kate did attempt to whack it on the floor in the hopes the lock would just 'pop' open. I decided it would be best for all parties if we called it a day and went back to our room, taking the box with us of course.

Forty-five minutes later, we had eventually picked the lock of the box and were sitting staring at the closed lid.

'Go on then … open it.' I urged Kate, who had decided to become bashful. 'Open it!' I leaned forward to flip the lid, when her hand stopped me.

'Wait.'

I looked at her, amazed that one moment she was all eager to find out what was inside, and the next cautious. But … I waited … and waited … and waited.

Finally, she looked up from her lap, gave me one of her most dazzling smiles, and threw back the lid.

Inside was a collection of somebody's life. Jewellery, ribbons, small photographs, folded pieces of paper … journals. Two of them to be exact. One black, the cover wrinkled through usage. The other … was an old friend … a one time visitor to my room months before. I couldn't mistake the brown leather, the corners slightly bent out of shape. It was definitely the one. No mistake there. But I couldn't even start to rationalise how it had come to me from this locked box … how it had managed to unearth itself from underneath all the other treasures that had been hidden away in a room at the top of the house.

It would blow my mind into millions of tiny pieces if I tried to fathom that out. And … truthfully speaking … I didn't even want to go there.

Kate lifted them both up and offered them to me. 'You're the writer here … check these out.'

Gingerly, I took them both in my hand, placed the black one on the arm of the sofa and flicked the cover open on the brown one. The same flowing script - Katherine Thomas. The next page greeted me with its familiarity 'May 12th 1917. My brother …' I sucked in my breath, holding it there whilst I cherished the feel of being reunited with this woman. It was eerily fulfilling. The last time I had held this journal I barely knew anything about the woman who wrote it, but now …

I looked at Kate … she was so beautiful, leaning back on the sofa, her eyes violet in the early evening light. I was totally and utterly in love with this woman … How times change, eh?

My brain was trying to process everything all at once - the awful circumstances that led to this woman's death, my acceptance of my sexuality, Kate, and how important she had become to me, the separation of the young lovers because of the bigotry of mankind … I could go on and on but the thoughts and feelings were becoming unbearable. It was too much.

The journal dropped to my knee and I just sat there, trying to control this overwhelming sense of loss combined with my own personal discovery. A complete oxymoron of emotions, but it took both of these emotions to realise what I actually had.

I had the freedom to express my feelings for the person I loved. And even if society still couldn't deal with who I was and whom I was with … I didn't care. This was my life … mine and Kate's. If they are so ignorant they can allow bias overrule love and commitment - then more fool them.

'Honey?' What a beautiful sound … music landing on my ears like feather-like touches of perfection.

The grin that poured forth from my lips was filled with everything I had to give. And by the look on her face … she knew it.

'Let's leave these for the morning, okay?' She looked a little surprised, but at the same time pleased.

I know we had been waiting for months to find out what really happened to those women, but … I needed to be in the here and now, and what better place to start than in the arms of the woman I loved? The journals would be there in the morning … so what was the rush? Kate and I had the rest of our lives to look through them. So tonight … she was all mine.

The journals were pushed to the side, memories of love and longing wrapped up in faded yellow pages. I didn't need to look at them to realise what I had found … I had that sitting right in front of me. The woman that had haunted my dreams - filled my every moment - filled my heart with such light.

This story isn't about Kate and Vivian, or William, or Pete for that matter. This story is about life … living … moving on, accepting the unacceptable and moving forward. Memories or 'should have dones' don't count … prejudiced opinions shouldn't mean anything unless we allow ourselves to listen
.
It was now time to step away from all that … step away and take that beautiful woman in my arms to whisper 'Forever.'

And there was no need for me to keep dwelling in the past. It is the future I am looking forward to exploring. And my future is Kate …

My Kate.

**************************************************************

Epilogue

My eyes flew open … heart racing … sweat coated my skin.

What the fuck was that?

The blackness of the room drowned out my vision - my heart banging in my chest muffled my hearing. Dryness enveloped my mouth whilst goose bumps guarded my skin.

The feelings pulsed through me … sensations of being drawn in … being insulated, exposed, devoured.

Hands on my skin … exploring … tracing the contours with expert fingers … digits dancing over my flesh.

A mouth … hot … wet. A firm tongue dipping into my core, lapping at the juices spilling abundantly from deep within. A stray hand capturing a breast, pumping the pliant flesh until it ached for more … ached for her.

My dormant fingers tangled themselves willingly into her hair, my nails digging into her scalp, pushing her deeper into me. Her scent wafted in front of me like a haze … rich …exotic …potent. I loved the smell of her … it smelled so familiar … so comforting … so arousing.

Erratic breaths escaped into the dark, deep gulps of air mixed with the short clasping ones that made this feel so right … so good.

I could see her through the darkness … loving me. All of me.

Then I heard it. So close. A voice so tender and soft my soul wept.

'Come for me.'

And I did.

**************************************************************

Sometimes … the unbelievable is possible.

Sometimes … you have to question your sanity.

Sometimes … the only explainable reason is that it happens … sometimes.

And my 'sometimes' was now … the here and now … and boy was I going to enjoy it.


The End


Thank you for getting this far, and I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I enjoyed writing it - then we'll both be happy!

Let me know what you think … but please be gentle: fingersmith@hotmail.co.uk or Fingersmith
And I will try to get back to you.


Spoilers

Well … what can I say to make it up to you?

The ending: it was the only way I could end this story. I tried to use a circular structure - both with the narrator and the love interest. I wanted to start it in a negative way in order to show the power of love. I didn't want to dwell in the past - I wanted to show my girls moving on with their life.

The main characters were drawn to each other because of past events, and the love they shared would enable the spirits to rest in peace, happy in the knowledge their love continues. The original lovers - Kate and Vivian - were never seen again. It was as if the joining of our girls finally allowed them to rest in peace. William's duty as a guardian of their belongings ceased to exist. He lost. Hurrah! Mainly because he was a wanker!

William Thomas - out and out bastard (aka wanker) died up to the eyes in debt, and the house passed on to Kate's great grandfather who turned it into a retreat to stop the bailiffs.

Pete was arrested trying to enter Abbie's house again, and had to serve twelve months in prison with some really beefy men who loved his lily-white ass.

Dr Robins did not have anything to do with events at Forester's Dwell. He was just unfortunate enough to fall for the enigmatic Kate Thomas. When he realised it was a 'no hoper' he buggered off.

As for what was written in the diaries … ah well … we will never know … <grin>



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