Secrets
By Susan Heywood
John finds the body of a neighbour who has been murdered. The police detective assigned to the case deduces that John hides a secret - but the detective has secrets of her own.
Part 18 of 25 — Children
I struggled to see the contents clearly through tears of happiness.
A single sapphire was surrounded by small diamonds and mounted on a slim gold ring. Jane gently placed it on the ring finger of my left hand. This action wasn’t lost upon the rest of the party and they smiled knowingly.
She said, “I love you very much. On 1st June this year, you changed your name to Jennifer Ellen Smith. On 1st July, you started work as Jenny. Also, on that day, the Gender Recognition Bill received Royal Assent. On 1st June 2006, when you are officially two years of age, you can apply for a certificate that will recognise that you were born female. You can also apply for a corrected birth certificate.
“The GRA (Gender Recognition Act) allows transgender people to marry as members of their true gender. There is also a proposal for same-sex couples, which is what we will be, to have an officially recognised legal partnership, much the same as married people do.
“I will be delighted if, after you have obtained your corrected birth certificate, you will be my legal partner. I’d like to say wife but the law, as you know, is an ass and, although we could marry now, you would have to be my husband and I would have to be your wife. That’s just too stupid for words. Also, we’d have to divorce again so that you can legally be yourself.”
“My corrected birth certificate.” I whispered, a little smile playing on my face, a huge lump in my throat and a big feeling of joy in my heart.
“The GRA will give you legal recognition of that which we have known for months and you have known all your life; that is, that you are female. And, after that, the Civil Partnerships bill should enable us to legally be a couple; if you want me, that is.”
I was speechless for a moment, then said, “With your jokes, I’m not sure I want to,” then I laughed, good-naturedly, “But, I suppose, you’ll get your own way as usual.”
“Absolutely right! I knew months ago that you were the girl for me and the law catches up with you in the end, as you know.”
For once, I was silent as I happily contemplated being Mrs Jennifer Ellen Dyson — or whatever Civil Partners were called.
We glanced at my father to see if this was all too much for him but he seemed to have come to accept that he has a daughter, and also that nothing she did now would surprise him. He appeared to have just let it wash over him as being beyond his control, not worth getting steamed up about, typical of the younger generation, not like it was in his day and so on. I thoughtfully and tenderly looked at him.
“This must all be difficult for you, Daddy.”
“Oh, don’t mind me love; I no sooner come to terms with having a daughter when she rather obviously shows me that she has a girlfriend. I mentioned it to your mother and was told to “get with it and be thankful she’s still with us.” So here I am.”
I was overwhelmed and, getting up from the table, rushed round to him and gave him a special hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You and Mummy are the best, do you know that?” I then hugged and kissed my mother.
My father then said, “You remind me of someone. Some years ago, and it still feels like just last week, we had a social evening at our Naval Base. I asked a certain young lady to dance with me: it was the smartest move I ever made,” he glanced affectionately at my mother. “And you look a lot like she did when I met her and are now a younger version of her. I’ve a beautiful wife and two wonderful children. I’m a lucky man.”
I was very tearful and Geena dropped a none-too-subtle hint that the women should join her in a visit to the ladies room. Jane, my mother and I rose from the table and followed her. Jane went just to make sure that my makeup was properly repaired - well, that was her excuse anyway. After all the happy tears, my makeup certainly needed fixing. Fortunately I had three other women there to help me.
Peter and his dad were left for a few minutes and thought it a good opportunity to look at the menu and wine list.
Peter asked, “So, what do you reckon to your daughter then, Dad?”
“I’m still amazed. I can’t get over how natural she is. That girl, no, that young woman is quite natural and, if I close my eyes, I can still see your mother smiling at me when I first asked her to dance all those years ago.”
“How has Mum taken all this?”
“’In her stride’ doesn’t even come close. It’s as though she’s taken on a new lease of life. I’ll swear she looks ten years’ younger, and vitality? Its years since I’ve seen her with so much energy. She’s volunteered at the local hospital helping the “old folks”, as she calls them, with little things like organising books, bringing them tea, talking with them, taking them to the television lounge, things like that. She said something along the lines of “It won’t be long before you’re back with the Job Squad; I’d better find something to do with my time. I’m fed up with just being at home all day.” I tell you, son, your mother’s a bloomin’ marvel.”
Peter agreed, “Well I’ve always thought she was brilliant, but then I am somewhat biased.”
Just then we all returned from our visit to the ladies’ room and both men noticeably brightened when their respective partners re-joined them. I posed a question.
“Mummy, Daddy, how did you get here and when did you arrive?”
“Well, love,” my mother answered, “When Jane organised all of this,” I glanced at the culprit, who was wearing a little smile and gazing at a point somewhere on the ceiling, “Peter and Geena thought it would be a good opportunity to get some practical grand-parenting time in, so we’re staying with them for a few days. The car’s still playing up a bit so we came on the train. It’s about three and a half hours, not much longer than driving, and Peter met us at the station.”
“Wow, that’s wonderful,” I enthused, then I thought of something. I rounded on Jane. “Hey you! You said we weren’t meeting Peter and Geena today.”
“No,” she responded, tenderly, “I said that Peter wasn’t at home today, and he wasn’t. And I thought you might ask how I knew that, but you didn’t.”
“Oh,” I said, smiling but feeling embarrassed.
“So,” Geena put in, “When do you two go back home?”
I looked at Jane, who replied, “On Monday afternoon.”
“Good,” Geena said, enthusiastically. “So do you fancy that therapy session on Monday morning, then?”
Jane glanced at me, nodded and I replied, laughingly, “Yes, that would be lovely, thank you. And if we popped in tomorrow, could I meet my niece and nephew? That’s if my future wife will let me.”
Jane laughed and assured me that Auntie Duties were very important and should be carried out whenever possible.
“Definitely,” Geena assured me.
My mother added, “And I’m sure that the men folk have an urgent need of a round of golf on Monday morning, which will, no doubt, involve testing the merchandise at the nineteenth tee at lunchtime. So do you mind if an old fogey joins you on Monday morning? I’d like to tag along as well.”
“Old fogey, Mummy?” I said, laughing, “You’re surely joking. I remember a certain trip to Winchester a couple of months ago; I’m a beginner at this shopping lark compared to you.”
A light came on in my father’s eyes. “I knew something was different about you when you got home that time but I couldn’t work out quite what; I was just saying to Peter that you seem to have more vitality these days.”
“Yes,” my mother admitted, “having a young daughter to keep you in line does that to you. You somehow feel that if you don’t keep up with her, you’re going to get yourself told off.”
Talk about trying to embarrass me.
Geena said that she often hankered after her mis-spent youth, but realised that she had married him! This earned her a disparaging look, then a grin from Peter, who draped his arm affectionately around her shoulders. He never ceased to be amazed that the beautiful blue-eyed blonde bombshell he’d met while he was serving in the Air Force, had agreed to be his wife. She, for her part, looked lovingly up at her gentle giant of a husband, and considered herself to be very fortunate.
We all laughed at Geena’s comment and turned again to the menus. Dinner turned out to be a very light-hearted affair; the food was excellent and the company very convivial. For starters, my father and Peter selected soup-de-jour while we women opted for the deep-fried Camembert. My mother and Geena chose Poulet Breton, a chicken dish, for their main course. Jane decided on the Boeuf Bourguignon and I tried the Loup de Mer; sea bass. My father and Peter both ordered Steak Frites.
The meals, and the accompanying wines, were pronounced excellent. The conversation flowed and everyone was very comfortable with one another.
Unsurprisingly, Jane joined the men in a dessert. This caused one or two grunting noises around the table, much to the amusement of all concerned.
Jane said, “You wouldn’t like it if I were fussy about my food.”
I replied, “The only fuss that you make about your food is if there isn’t enough of it.”
Coffee and mints followed and I told them all about our Stratford-upon-Avon visit. Peter and Geena had been there several times since they lived nearby. I said that I would like to go to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre one day to see a play; I thought that would be wonderful and could see Jane nodding.
All too soon, the evening came to an end, the bill was argued over but eventually Jane won and paid, taxis were called and my parents accompanied Geena and Peter back to relieve an expensive babysitter who, they were convinced, had already decided that her babysitting income would pay her way through university.
We made our way back to our hotel where I sat and admired the ring for a few minutes. Jane insisted that I model my new sapphire jewellery and, of course, my new nightie and negligee: it didn’t take long for us to undress. She said that, as I now had two birthdays, tonight, September 18th, was a good opportunity to practice for the official birthday on June 1st. I decided that Jane would get her own way in the end; and anyway, I was not really averse to the practice.
“Oh good,” she said, taking me in her arms, “Now I get a proper snog.”
And she did.
Sunday morning saw us again breaking the ice at the pool. It wasn’t really that cold but I said, “I’m built for comfort, not speed. If we were meant to do this, we’d have been fitted with flippers.”
We did, however, manage twenty lengths, by which time I was more than ready for breakfast. There was no need to ask about Jane’s appetite; if she was awake, she was usually ready for a meal.
“I’m a firm believer in eating little and often,” she said.
“Little and often?”
“Okay; so sometimes the ‘oftens’ run together.” She smiled.
“Sometimes?”
That earned me a tap on the arm and then a cuddle.
It was quite warm for mid-September but we both took light cotton jackets just in case it turned chilly later on in the day.
After breakfast, we decided to visit Warwick and its castle. We returned to Leamington after lunch and visited Peter and Geena so that I could meet my niece and nephew.
I was a little anxious as we pulled up at the gates to the property; Jane gave my hand a gentle squeeze. My brother and sister-in-law’s house was a large, rambling, detached property on the outskirts of Leamington. I whistled at the sight of it.
“Peter must be doing really well to be able to afford a place like this,” I commented to Jane, as the gates swung open and then closed gently behind us.
Geena greeted us at the door when we had stepped out of the car. “Hi, it’s good to see you again and to have you visit us at last. Mum and Dad have borrowed my car and gone to Stratford-upon-Avon. It seems that your enthusiasm for the place has piqued their curiosity.”
Just then, two small bundles of energy zoomed out of the door and headed straight for me. “Auntie Jenny, Auntie Jenny,” they chorused, arms outstretched.
I looked quizzically at Geena and asked, “You obviously told them that we were coming to see you, but aren’t children that age supposed to be shy?”
She laughed. “Yes and Yes. But they’re not shy at all; in fact, they’re both what you might call precocious; Geoff is four and a half, going on seven and Ros is four and a half, going on ten!”
I hunkered down to their level and opened my arms, whereupon I was immediately hugged by the twins, who both started talking at once. I was willingly dragged away to play with them in the garden.
Jane joined Geena in the kitchen, where she filled the kettle for tea while Geena took mugs down from a cupboard and splashed milk into them. She also poured two large beakers of fresh orange juice from a tap on the front of the door of the huge fridge. She glanced out of the window.
“It seems that my sister-in-law is a definite hit with my children. It looks as though she would make a terrific mum; it’s such a shame she wasn’t built for it.”
“Yes,” mused Jane, “She certainly seems to be enjoying herself.”
The children eventually tired and we all went in for drinks. Geena asked me if I would like to take them upstairs as they looked as though they were in need of an afternoon nap. I was near to tears, happy tears, as the twins again dragged me off to find their bedrooms and show me their toys, clothes and so on. It was a good twenty minutes later that I descended the stairs to collect my own tea and join the others in the lounge.
“So,” Geena surmised, “You got the bedroom tour then?”
“Yes,” I answered, still a little tearful, “I just can’t get over how lovely they are and how they seem to have taken to me so quickly.”
“There are two main reasons for that,” replied Geena, thoughtfully, “You are someone new; they just love showing off to visitors,”
“And?”
“You accepted them, just as they accepted you; you met them at their level and you are completely natural with them.”
“Oh,” I said, quietly, and then dissolved into tears.
Jane put an arm around my shoulder. “You feel cheated, don’t you?”
I looked lovingly into her eyes. “No and yes,” I sobbed.
“No and yes?”
“I feel so blessed, having your love. But I know that I can never have children; conceive them, carry them, give birth to them, bond with them and help them to grow.”
“John could have done some of that,” Jane said, gently.
“He could have done none of that; he wasn’t wired or plumbed properly. John was just an act,” I answered, vehemently.
“Conceiving a child, carrying it and giving birth to it are one thing; being a mummy and helping a child to grow is entirely another story. The two usually go together, but sometimes they don’t,” Geena said, wisely. “The first usually takes about nine months; the second can take a lifetime.”
Jane led me to a settee and, sitting me down, handed me my mug of tea. We drank in silence for a few minutes.
Then Geena asked, brightly, “Would you like a tour of the place?”
Jane took our empty mugs into the kitchen, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. She then guided me to follow Geena. We started upstairs; I thought that the upstairs was bigger than my own apartment, and I mentioned this to Geena.
“Peter usually works from home; he has a study and a computer room, we have two lively children and space for a guest or two. There are four bedrooms — two with en-suite, two bathrooms, a shower and the playroom upstairs.
“We found this house by accident. It belonged to a local builder who wanted a quick sale; he decided that he’d like to spend his retirement in the south of France, where his yacht is moored. We just happened to be looking around for a suitable property; we had rented a place until Peter’s business was established and one day, he was contracted to sort out and update the builder’s office now that his dad had retired. Jimmy happened to mention that his father was selling his house and the rest, as they say, is history. When we saw it, we fell instantly in love with it.”
“It’s beautiful and I love the colours. You have gone for pastel colours quite a lot upstairs.”
“Yes,” Geena laughed, “We both like green, it is such a fresh colour. Of course the children’s bedrooms and playroom have appropriate décor, Winnie the Pooh, Cinderella and so on.”
The sitting room was large and had a feature fireplace. The garden had a large area devoted to children’s play equipment, which was well within sight of the kitchen window. Lawns, borders and a row of fruit trees were accessible via a network of paths; the garden was completed by a large patio, which stretched from the kitchen, across the dining room and took in the French doors in the sitting room.
“You have a beautiful home and garden,” Jane said as we returned to the kitchen, “I imagine that it, and the children, keep you fairly well occupied.”
“Oh, I contract out most of the gardening and housework, but I’m very ‘hands on’ with my children.”
Just then Peter returned from a business meeting; it had inevitably been held at the local golf course. He bounded into the kitchen, grabbed Geena and kissed her soundly.
“I’d say you got the contract, then.”
“I let him beat me by two strokes and I drove away from the course with his signature barely dry on the paper.”
“Well done, so we can eat next month?”
“You bet!”
“Darling, we have visitors.” she laughed, as she turned him to face us.
“Oh Wow! Hello Jane, Hello Jenny,” he enthused, and then grabbed Jane for a hug and me for a hug and a kiss. “I know that we only saw you last night but hey, it’s not everyday we get a visit from my sister and her illustrious fiancée.”
We all laughed.
“So,” he asked, “What have you two been up to this morning?”
I told him about Warwick and then enthused about the house.
Geena told him about the children’s reaction to their auntie.
“I’m not surprised at all,” he commented, “Those two know a soft touch when they see one. Seriously, though, what do you think of them?”
“They are delightful,” I answered, sniffing slightly.
Geena and Jane both noticed that I was about to tear up again so Geena took Peter into the living room on some pretext or other.
Jane put her arm around my waist and I leaned against her shoulder and sobbed. “It’s so unfair,” I wailed.
“Yes, so is being born in abject poverty or with AIDS. Some children are born in a war zone or in a refugee camp. Try to imagine living several thousand feet up a freezing mountain without heat, light or fresh water. Many children die in infancy and many women aren’t fertile for any number of reasons. You’re dealt a set of cards when you’re born and you have to play them as best you can. Sometimes, by combining talents with other players, you can share each other’s strengths and mask each other’s weaknesses. And when you are dealt bad cards, you might sometimes pick up an extra good card. I don’t have all the answers but, between us, we make a good team, yes?”
I visibly brightened. “Yes, you’re right. And I’m sorry for being such a miserable bitch.”
“Okay, but don’t do it too often.”
“No, you’re right; I have so much to be thankful for. I guess I spent twenty-odd years trying to work out who I must have mightily pissed off to deserve all the crap. I hereby resolve to put the past firmly behind me and not look at it again.”
“Good girl,” she said, as she kissed me.
Just then, we heard the others returning to the kitchen.
“Would you like to stay to dinner?” Geena asked.
I glanced at Jane, who nodded. “Thank you; that would be lovely. It will be great to spend some more time with the twins.”
“Talking of twins,” Geena cupped her hand to her ear, “I think I hear a platoon of infantry running around upstairs. Prepare for the invasion!”
I smiled with delight as they hurtled downstairs and yelled “Auntie Jenny, will you play with us again, please” at the tops of their voices.
I laughed and steered them into the garden.
Jane glanced lovingly in our wake and then turned to Geena and Peter. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her not taking ‘Auntie Duties’ seriously. I think she’s quite besotted with those two.”
“It’s amazing,” Peter said, “I still can’t get over just how natural she is. If I hadn’t known her for twenty three years, I’d never guess that there was a miserable brother in there somewhere.”
“Apart from a small piece of unwanted flesh, there isn’t and hasn’t been,” Jane responded.
The others nodded in agreement.
The children and I had a lot of fun. I spent a long time pushing them on the swings, throwing a soft ball to them - my ball skills hadn’t improved since childhood; I still couldn’t catch and spent more time running for the ball than actually throwing it - playing ‘hide and seek’; they constantly challenged me but I didn’t falter, I was just so happy. There was a lot of hilarious squealing, much joyful shouting and plenty of hugs and giggles. After an hour the children were a little tired but I could have just kept going.
Geena called to us that dinner would soon be ready as Nanny and Grandpa were due to return any minute. “Thank you for looking after them this afternoon,” she said to me as we returned.
“They looked after me.”
“Whatever. I can see that you need more ‘Auntie Time’,” Geena joked.
“I’d be delighted,” I glowed as I took the children to the cloakroom to clean up ready for dinner.
My parents returned and had noticed that Jane’s car was outside the house. “Everything alright?”
“It certainly is,” Geena laughed, “and Auntie Jenny is a definite hit with the twins.”
Geena related the events of the afternoon and both grandparents were surprised that I had so easily filled the Auntie role.
“She’s a natural,” Geena affirmed.
“She’s that alright,” Jane agreed.
Dinner was another joyous affair, after the children had argued over who was going to sit on which side of Auntie Jenny. I solved it easily. Mind you; I already knew the answers to my questions.
“Rosalind, do you hold a pencil in your right or left hand?”
“In my right hand, Auntie.”
“Then you can sit on my right.” She did so.
“Now Geoffrey, your right hand or left hand?”
“Left hand, Auntie”
“Then you must sit on my left.”
The children sat down and Geena gawped. “Just how did you do that?”
“Diplomacy,” I replied, smiling.
“She’d make a good diplomat as long as she didn’t have to work at the Foreign Office; that would drive her to distraction,” Jane quipped.
Everyone laughed but I just smiled sweetly and returned my attention to the children.
The rest of the evening passed in light-hearted conversation and, naturally, the children wanted Auntie Jenny to read their bedtime story. I went willingly. The others told me later that they thought they heard frequent squeals and giggles.
I came back down about half an hour later and turned to Geena and Peter.
“Would you mind very much if I visited more often? I’d like to get to know the children a little better and spend more time with them…only if that’s okay with you?” I asked, timidly.
“Darling, you have wrought miracles this day,” Peter joked, “Of course, you’re welcome at any time. We’ve a guest room and we would be delighted to see you. You can’t be much more than a few hours away and perhaps you could come up for a weekend when Jane is working.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jane said, “Though, as my wife, she will have more housework to do.” This earned her a biff on the arm and a look which indicated that retribution would be soon, and thorough. My mother glanced at my father, who seemed to be very interested in the wall clock, and appeared not to have heard what was said.
Jane again dragged me down to the swimming pool the next morning. Although I theatrically moaned each time about the “crack of dawn start” and the temperature of the water, I actually enjoyed the little workout.
We both dressed casually for a day’s shopping. Jane wore jeans and a cerise tee top with her leather jacket and ankle boots while I wore my black slacks and aqua three-quarter sleeved scoop-neck top with my black leather jacket and a pair of black wedge-heeled sandals.
We had breakfast, checked out of the hotel, loaded the car and headed for ‘Chez Smith Too ’, as Jane had taken to calling it. I smiled as I knew that my apartment was now simply referred to as ‘Home.’ Perhaps she’d refer to my parent’s house simply as ‘Chez Smith’ or ‘Chez Smith One’. She seemed to have an affinity with most things French: the food; the wine; the Tour de France and her occasional use of the language.
There was definitely a French connection; I knew that she was born there and had a French mother and grandmother. Back to food; I resolved to investigate some more French recipes and see what reaction I received. Knowing Jane’s appetite, I had a suspicion that, as long as there was enough of it, I could serve her almost anything. I couldn’t suppress a little giggle at the thought of serving up chair legs in garlic sauce!
Jane noticed. “Something amusing you?”
“Yes,” I grinned.
“Care to share?”
“No!”
“I have ways of making you talk.”
“I’m looking forward to it!”
By this time we had arrived at the gates, and drove in as they swung open. My mother came out of the house to greet us; Geena swiftly followed.
“Parking in the town is never easy but we shouldn’t have too much trouble on a Monday. Or we could go by taxi,” Geena offered.
It was decided to take Geena’s estate car; she was the only one who knew where we were going and it could carry the four of us and any parcels.
Leamington Spa was a tiny village until about 1800. The value of the mineral springs was known in the middle ages but it wasn’t until 1784 that the village began rediscovering the saline springs, and built baths around some of them. The fortunes of the Pump Room, gardens and the town were something of a rollercoaster for many years and it wasn’t really until the end of the twentieth century that a carefully planned integration of the arts and tourism again put the town on the map.
The first priority was coffee and I insisted that it should be my treat. While we drank our coffee, I mused on just how much my life had changed in a little over six months. I again silently thanked the powers that be for my transformation from a nondescript sort-of androgynous creature to the woman that I had always known I was, but never dared to hope that I would ever be. I also marvelled at the fact that I was now one of the girls and was seated in a café with my fiancée, my mother and my sister-in-law and about to embark on a shopping spree.
“Are you ready, Jenny?”
“Hmm?”
“You haven’t heard a word we’ve said for at least five minutes, have you?” observed Jane, playfully.
“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly, “I was thinking.”
“Dreaming, more like, judging by the expression on your face.”
I quickly drained my cup and smiled at Jane. “I’m ready now.”
“Right,” said Geena. ”Look out, Leamington; here come the Smiths, and we’re definitely not taking prisoners.”
“Hey, what about me?” Jane sniffed.
“You’re an Honorary Smith today.”
“I say; thanks awfully!” she said, sounding as though someone had just given her a castle.
“Don’t mention it.” We three Smiths said in unison, and then laughed.
Our needs were soon met, which suited us admirably as we had only a few hours.
I found a specialist lingerie shop and purchased some of their more upscale items. I settled on a pale green set and Jane muttered something along the lines of “just as well I don’t have a willie or it would push my panties out of shape, seeing you in that.” Only I heard her comment so the others turned around with raised eyebrows at the sound of “Ouch!” and the snigger, after I had slapped her lightly on the arm.
Geena found several shops selling children’s clothes and came away with some hard-wearing outfits. As winter was approaching, the twins would necessarily be spending more time in their playroom and knees and elbows would come in for a lot of rough treatment.
My mother found her new coat in House of Fraser. It was full length, plum-coloured and double breasted. Everyone, especially her daughter, agreed that it was the coat for her and suited her colouring very well.
Jane found some curtain and fabric ideas in House of Fraser and made some notes of styles and prices. She didn’t purchase anything; she hadn’t yet decided on a house or apartment but said that she was interested in one of the large new 4-bedroom apartments.
All good things come to an end and we returned to Royal Priors and the car. At home we made sandwiches for everyone. The men had returned from their golf; for once, my father had managed to win by just one stroke and was feeling elated about beating his son at last. Peter wasn’t telling whether or not the result had been engineered in his father’s favour.
The children were attending school for a half-day only during the first term so were due home any minute; Emma, Geena’s neighbour, was collecting them along with her own daughter.
I helped with the sandwiches and then brought them to the table. The men’s golf match was discussed, as was the shopping expedition.
The arrival of the children — it sounded like twenty-two of them, not two - delayed the proceedings a little and my lunch was interrupted by squealing and giggling twins jumping up and down on my lap. I laughed at their antics and managed to calm them down enough to eat their lunch.
“See; what did I tell you?” An exasperated Geena asked her mother-in-law, “If I could just borrow Jenny for the next fifteen years or so, I could have this ‘mother/child bonding’ thing sorted in no time.”
My mother just grinned, and commented on my apparent ability to interact with anyone I came across. I was just embarrassed.
When it came to two-thirty Jane said, “I guess it’s time to leave you good people. It’s a two and a half hour journey for us.”
I added, “And we should stop by a supermarket to stock up with supplies. It might take a while; Jane is on day shift this week so I suppose I’d better lay in enough for a siege.”
Jane sniffed haughtily, then dissolved into fits of laughter, as she said, ”I can’t work properly if I’m suffering from acute malnutrition.”
We prepared to say our goodbyes and did the rounds of hugs and kisses.
I whispered something in my father’s ear after I had hugged and kissed him. We laughed. I then hugged and kissed my mother, Peter and Geena. I bade an especially tearful farewell to the twins, promising to come back and see them soon.
We drove out through the open gates, waving as we went. I turned and waved until we lost sight of the house and then settled down for the journey home.
“You have a lovely family,” Jane remarked after a few minutes.
“Yes, and I’m so happy that they love you too,” I replied, dreamily. “They are wonderful, but so are you.”
“You really think so?” Jane teased.
“Oh yes; clever, thoughtful, kind, sensitive, caring, supportive, protective and fun.”
“Wow! I’m impressed with myself.”
I giggled and punched her lightly on the arm. “I’d better not thump you too hard; we don’t want an accident, do we?”
“Oh, no! Just wait until I get you home, then anything that happens will be quite deliberate.” We laughed as we finished the line together.
Jane had a thought. “What did you whisper to your father earlier to make him laugh?”
“I told him that he’d better start saving for the wedding because I want the full works.”
We both dissolved into hysterics and Jane had to pull over to the side of the road and stop the car for a few minutes.
End of part 18
Comments
Such a beautiful
chapter, so much love. Thannk you for such a well crafted story
Goddess Bless you
Love Desiree
Suck 'em up
I'm loving all of this story now. It's going along at a wonderful pace with wonderful scenery along the way.
The twins are adorable. I hope to see them again.
Please keep up the good work.
Thanks and kudos.
- Terry