This chapter describes the preparations for Christmas and the progress of Briony's pregnancy.

The Welsh Mountain Ram 33

Briony... Betrayed wife and mother.
Sion... Her eight-year-old son.
Ellairy... Her nine-month--old daughter.
Arfon... Brionys’ abusive and unfaithful husband.
Dave Cadwalloder... Welsh bachelor hill-farmer.
Jenny and Lassie... Daves’ sheepdog bitches.
Laddie... Daves’ sheepdog.
Jessica and Pansy... Daves’ sows.
Angel... Daves’ mare.
Gabriella (Gabby)... Angels’ foal (Gift to Sion.)
Elsbeth... Briony’s sister.
Daphne... Daves’ ‘girlfriend’
Cledwyn... Farmer further down the valley (Neighbour.)
Blodwen... Cledwyn’s daughter.
Rachel... Daphne’s TV friend.
Shirley... Rachels’ GG wife.
Fajita... The maid.
James & Tara... Rachel’s teenaged children (16 & 15)
Billy and Janet... Manager and accountant at Daphne’s club.
Terry... New Zealand Shepherd.
Wendy Blodwens best friend at school. Also Dave’s friend.
Jane Policewoman at Machynlleth.
Jack Davies Sergeant North Wales Police.
Joyce Blodwen’s Partner.

The Ram 33.

As the friends rambled slowly along the ridge path, Daphne held Briony’s hand as Daphne described features of the estate as the group came upon them. Each location seemed to have some little anecdote attached, an accident, or a lucky find or some historical event going back over nearly seven hundred years of family history. There was even one story related to Owain Glyndwr’s rebellion and Daphne brought the group to the cleft in a cliff where Owain was reputed to have spent many nights while hiding from Henry the fourth the English King.

“Have your family really lived around her for seven hundred years?” Briony asked. “Owain was born around the 1350’s and died 1416. They think.”

“Oh, then you know your history girl. Well done.”

Briony gave Daphne’s hand a squeeze as she objected to her patronisation.

“I’m just as Welsh as you are darling. Yes I do know my history. So if your family has lived hereabouts since 1450, where’s the old house, the original castle?”

“Under the present one, I’ll show you some of the old foundations if you want.”

With the prospect of some real archaeology the friends decided to return to the house. The evening chill also persuaded them and just as it was getting too dark to see they finally made it to the farm-yard, where they found an unrecognised car.

The mood changed immediately as the single word ‘Arfon’ flashed through their minds.

“Anybody recognise the car?” Daphne asked.

A universal answer of wagging heads and murmured ‘no’s’ served only to strengthen Daphne’s fears as she checked the back door.

“The door hasn’t been forced. James, pop around and check the side door please.”

Tara decided to accompany him in case there was something waiting. While the others stood silently fretting Ellairy started to whimper with the cold. Eventually, the two teenagers returned.

“No. The side door’s okay and the main front door, nothing.” James reported.

Nervously, Daphne eased open the back door and slipped silently inside. She found nothing in the kitchen so she slipped down to the cellar and checked the gun cabinet. The guns that the police had restored to her were safe in their reinforced box. Everything seemed as it should be. She returned and invited the freezing friends in. It was only then that Briony spotted the size eleven wellingtons in the utility room.

“Whose are those?”

Daphne looked at them and wondered. They certainly weren’t Terry’s, he took a size nine. Then she realised, Terry might have his boyfriend over. She went to knock on the newly installed dividing door and Terry eventually answered. He looked flushed and not a little upset to have been disturbed. Daphne immediately realised what she’d done and apologised.

“Oh. I see. You’ve got your friend over. I’m sorry to have disturbed you; we were worried because nobody recognised the car.”

“I left a note on the drawing room table.”

“Oh damn. Sorry Terry darling, I haven’t looked in there yet. I’ll go, sorry.”

“Well don’t you want to meet him? You’d better come in?”

Daphne entered somewhat apologetically to find John tucking his shirt into his jeans Terry introduced them, Daphne apologised, John smiled. It was a warm smile. Daphne found herself admiring the tall man with broad shoulders and a flat belly.

‘Gays tended to look after themselves,’ she concluded, ‘well John certainly did.’

They exchanged a few words then Daphne prepared to slip away before asking.

“Are you eating with us tonight?”

“Yes thank you. It’ll give John a chance to meet everybody.”

“Okay ‘bout sevenish.”

She left to return to the kitchen and explain the new wellingtons.

“He’ll be down shortly; Terry left a note on the drawing room table.”

“Why didn’t he leave it on the kitchen table?” Briony wondered aloud. “We’d have all seen it immediately.”

“Ask him when he comes down. Now let’s get dinner on. Is that kettle boiling yet?”

“Coming up,” Blodwen replied, “tea or coffee?”

“As it comes love, I’ll have tea but there’s instant coffee.”

A general atmosphere of busyness soon filled the kitchen as the girls set about preparing dinner. Tara took Ellairy and played with her in the drawing room while James and Sion disappeared up to James’s bedroom to play computer games. Apparently there was some sort of ongoing battle between them.

While dinner was being prepared, Terry and John appeared. Briony asked why they hadn’t thought to put the note on the kitchen table.
Terry explained that he didn’t realise her fear of Arfon ran so deep. He and John had been enjoying the fire in the drawing room and he’d only written the note as a courtesy; an after-thought. Then he confessed that he’d simple left it where convenient as their mood engulfed them and they had hurried upstairs.

“Sorry Bri’, I just never thought about Arfon.”

“Well no harm done. It just left us nervous that’s all. We still don’t know where he is. He could turn up at any time.”

“Who’s Arfon?” Asked John.

“Briony explained briefly as dinner was coming to a head. John wagged his head and observed.

“I see. Sounds like an ugly customer.”

“He is,” Daphne added as she returned from re-charging the dining room fire.

“Oh you should have asked me.” John offered. “There’s no need to make a mess of your hands love.”

Daphne hesitated and smiled partly from surprise. Nobody had ever treated her so completely as a girl. She felt a warm fuzzy feeling fill her tummy. John was nice.

Around the dinner table he proved to be even better company and the meal went swimmingly. They found out that John was a lecturer in English at Birmingham University and that he regularly frequented the Melancholy Pussy. John was shocked and delighted to learn that Daphne was the owner.

“I always thought Billy was the owner but he told me one day that he was only the manager. Now I get to meet the owner of the best club in Brum’. I’m impressed. Before you overhauled it, it was a real dive. You did really well to clean that place up; it was a blot on the reputation of the village.”

Daphne blushed at the compliment and thanked him. The meal ended and they retired to the drawing room after clearing the table and filling the dish-washer. There, as they savoured the roaring, drawing-room fire, they chatted until late evening. As Daphne got up to re-charge the coal and logs, John remarked humorously as he took the bucket from her hands.

“I’ll do this love. You need servants to run this place when you’ve got guests girl.”

“The fire’s a bit of a chore, back and forth with coal and logs. We don’t light it all the time though cos’ frankly we don’t really need it. We just like the flames and the friendliness of an open fire.” Daphne explained. “The house is centrally heated.”

John returned with the bucket and recharged the flames. As he returned to the sofa, he nodded sleepily for he’d just driven up from a conference in London and then enjoyed a furious bout of love-making with Terry. Now after a full meal the day was beginning to tell on him. Daphne spotted his weariness and suggested he return to bed. John glanced at Terry and they smiled as they enthusiastically got to their feet. Briony grinned.

“To sleep that is, you Randy buggers. We’re all going into Machynlleth tomorrow then later into Newtown. It’s Christmas Eve. You’d better get some rest. Shopping is a serious business with this lot.”

For the first time in many a year the bedroom corridors rang with the sounds of ‘goodnight ... goodnight, before silence settled upon the house.

In the welcoming dark of Daphne’s bedroom, Briony savoured the warmth of Daphne’s soft, slender, feminised body. Happily, she spooned against the contrasting hardness of a welcome invader and thought how different Daphne was in her lovemaking.

‘Daphne’s movements were just so gentle and tactile compared with Arfon’s hard, lustful, selfish demands.'

Briony felt Daphne’s fingers gently reach around to cup her stiffening nipples whilst simultaneously feeling two similarly stiff nipples gently nudging into her shoulder blades. She flexed her scapulars gently and heard Daphne giggle then sigh as her turgid femininity almost scraped against Briony’s back.

“Take me,” Briony croaked, “Take me as a lover would.”

Daphne’s fingers delicately traced their way from Briony’s nipples down her belly and under the ripe curve of her tummy to zero in on that place where women most usually reveal their mood. Briony was wet and receptive and she gently arranged herself to locate Daphne’s precious delight exactly where they both wanted it.

Here dear readers, I draw a veil over the rest of the night.

In the morning as Daphne sat on the edge of the bed, Briony savoured the gentle curves of her partner’s body.

“D’you know you’re getting a waist.”

Daphne looked down and nodded agreement.

“Well it’s either that or I’m getting an arse.”

Briony gently pinched one of Daphne’s peachy cheeks and Daphne squealed with mock offence as she span around and clambered on top of the reposing girl. Briony eagerly anticipated another session and she was not disappointed. As Daphne supported her own torso on her knees and elbow so as not to crush Briony’s tummy, Briony could never get over the novelty of having Daphne’s breasts pressing and wobbling against her own when they conjoined in the traditional manner. This time though as she orgasmed with delight, she felt their babies quickening in her womb. Daphne also felt it and gave a shocked squeak of delight as she realised what the gentle ‘flutterings’ were against her own belly.

“Oh my God! They just kicked, I felt it!” Daphne squealed.

“Mmmm. Isn’t that the truth,” Briony murmured. “That’s the first time.”

“Have you felt them before? I mean, if I just felt them, surely you must have felt them before.”

Briony sighed and stretched languorously.

“No darling. It was probably my orgasms that started them off. Sion and Ellairy started at about sixteen weeks but these are twins, they might be a little different. I’m guessing I’m about twenty weeks gone.”

Daphne counted backwards and realised that Briony might be about two or three weeks out in her dates, ‘either that or the twins had started kicking very late, she concluded. Still, they were kicking now and that was a good sign.’

Happily they rolled carefully on their sides to face each other as they savoured the new development.

“We’ll have to be careful now darling,” Briony cautioned Daph’. “No more missionary fashion darling.”

“No, definitely not!” Daphne concurred. “My weight must have caused them to object.”

“More likely my orgasms got them excited darling. I’ve had two in the last eight hours and they were nice ones. I’m sure the babies feel them as well.”

“Mmmm. That’s just so-oo nice,” Daphne sighed as their warm soft bodies moulded against each other. “I wish I could have a baby.”

Briony’s heart ached for her partner. Feeling her babies ... (Daphne’s babies), kick had really brought home the difference between them and the pain it caused Daphne. She whispered encouragement.

“You could breast feed them if you take the right hormones.”

Daphne got up on one elbow as her eyes widened with hope.

Would you let me, really? Would you let me do that?”

Briony looked up and nodded as she smiled.

“Yes, but it’s not all pleasure and fulfilment. Nipples can get cracked and sore, milk can leak. You feel like a dairy cow with udders. You’ll need boulder holsters for bras if you do start to make milk, you’ll see.”

“I wouldn’t care if I sprouted four tits like a cow; I’d just love to feel somebody so totally dependent on me and my nurturing. The very thought, well; it’s always been my dream I knew I could never carry a baby, but to suckle one, well that’s as good as it can ever get for me.”

Briony smiled and gently pulled Daphne down to her as their lips met in an emotional explosion. They only recovered when their embrace was disturbed by Sion and Tara bringing them breakfast in bed. As Tara smirked knowingly Briony felt her twins quickening again and she squeaked with delight. Sion’s eyes widened with concern.

“What’s wrong mummy?”

“Nothing darling, every thing’s right. Your brother and sister are squabbling inside my womb, d’you want to feel them?”

“She took Sion’s hand and invited him to place it on her tummy. He did so reluctantly until he felt a distinct ‘kick’ that cause him to gasp with surprise and delight.”

“It moved!” He giggled. “I felt it move!”

“You felt THEM move darling. There’s two of them in there, your brother and your sister.”

Sion’s smile widened with delight as he clambered onto the bed and boldly pressed the spot where he had felt the kick. Briony protested gently as she squeezed his inquisitive hand.

“Steady darling, they don’t like being pressed and poked too much. Just rest your hand lightly.”

Sion adjusted his hand as Tara asked nervously.

“Can I feel them?”

Briony nodded and placed Tara’s hand to her side where another limb was kicking. Tara giggled as she compared the distance between her hand and Sion’s.

“Gosh it’s like you’ve got a football team kicking away in there.”

Briony chuckled then took a piece of toast as Tara slid off the bed and started to pour the tea.

As Briony and Daphne savoured the treat, Blodwen appeared at the bedroom door.

“Come on you layabouts, we’re going Christmas shopping today!”

“We’re feeling the babies,” Sion declared. “They’ve started to kick.”

“You mean like this?” Blodwen laughed as she took Sion’s hand and pressed it against her own bump. The resultant protest surprised Sion with its greater force.”

“It’s stronger,” Sion cried.

“Well she’s two months older and much bigger. Come on, let’s get you dressed while Bri and Daph finish their breakfast.”

An hour later, they were driving to Machynlleth.