Deborah
Chapter 47

Copyright© 2007 by Kaffir

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 47 - This is the second story in the series. It tells of mature and conflicting loves and the deliverance of a girl from the after effects of sexual abuse. It is set in modern England but in the West Country where things are a little less modern than in London.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Spanking   Safe Sex   Oral Sex  

Deborah did a lot of thinking although, as she would later admit to herself, it was not entirely reasoned. She was still furious. She was also scared. Tig was still within reach of that vile man. Anger was the dominant emotion though. Richard had acted on his own and made decisions regarding her daughter's safety without involving her. He had acted on things her sister had said. Things which Liz had no right to say. She had stressed to Richard that they discuss matters that worried them and he had gone off on his own. Bloody men! Richard had seemed so much more considerate than Jeremy and yet here he was acting as though she did not even exist and over something that concerned her daughter. He had no right to behave like that. And yet it had been her welfare that he had placed first. He did not want her worried and relapsing into the darkness that had followed the divorce. OK. If he really gave her the love and support she needed she would not have relapsed. Or would she? Then he would have been saddled with a depressive fiancée who, as he had intimated, would not have been welcomed in the way she had by his family. Toss them. It was Richard she was going to marry. But then she had been worried about how they would take to her and it had been with love and happiness. And she loved Richard. Still. Deeply and forever but she could not let him get away with such an affront to her dignity. Dignity? What dignity did she have as a divorcee and single mother? Plenty. She had divorced out of necessity and that did not dent her dignity. Was it selfishness? Was it pride? She pummelled her pillow as the tears poured. Finally, emotionally exhausted she fell asleep.

Richard was not having much fun either. He stomped round the walk virtually oblivious of the dogs. The pent up anxiety he had borne alone exploded in fury. "Bloody Jeremy! Not only has he had me worried and cost me a bomb, he's frightened my girls and caused Deborah and I to have our first row. God! For his sake I hope I never meet him." Finally, the beauty of the countryside reached him as it always did and indeed the overt concern of the dogs also caused him to smile.

Emotionally drained Deborah's sleep was deep and she never sensed Richard tiptoeing into the room and removing her shoes other then to uncurl from her foetal position and lie on her back. She did not register his soft cleaning of the dried tears on her face or when he gently placed her dressing-gown over her. He also left a note on her bedside table: TIG SAFELY ON PLANE. R XX OO.

When she woke she realised what he had done and that caused further tears but she found her anger had abated, and because of the note, her fear had gone and that she was thinking more clearly. All he had done was for her and Annette's benefit and it was done out of his love for them both. Nevertheless there was still an underlying resentment that he had acted autocratically without taking into account her personal responsibility for her daughter. He had not shared their problems as he had promised to do.

She lay there for a while getting no further so got up, washed her face and changed into a linen dress. The fact that it showed off her figure to perfection never occurred to her. It was cool and comfortable.

Deborah wanted to collect Annette on her own. She was still brooding. Richard did not argue with her. He felt sure that in the end she would come round to his way of thinking. If not he would accept the depth of her feelings and, despite the fact that he felt he had done the right thing, he would give way to her. It was not that big a thing.

Deborah very nearly burst into tears when the coach arrived. First off was Annette her gold medal pinned to her chest, the best player medallion round her neck and bearing aloft the huge silver cup. When Jenny Thompson had phoned through the news the headmistress had rung round and the word spread so that there were a good number of pupils and parents to welcome the team home even though it was a Sunday. A huge cheer went up as Annette presented the cup to the headmistress and was kissed on both cheeks.

The rest of the team, all wearing their medals, filed out of the coach to sustained applause. Jenny Thompson brought up the rear, a proud smile lighting her face. Annette half turned and held out her hand. Jenny took it. Annette turned back to the headmistress.

"Mrs Ridley," she said. "This is the person who deserves your thanks and praise."

Deborah almost burst with pride.

"Well," said Mrs Ridley. "You've heard what Annette said so the first thing I must say is congratulations and very well done to Jenny Thompson for turning this team into what it is." She took Jenny by both hands and kissed her on the cheek. Jenny went scarlet with embarrassment.

"But," went on Mrs Ridley, "she couldn't have done it without such an enthusiastic, hard working and skilled team. So, well done to all of you. We're very, very proud of you and just hope you can retain the title next year. You have given the school real pleasure and pride. This is the first time we have won the cup and I am very proud of you. So, I'm sure, are all the pupils and their parents. As for your own parents, they must be bursting with pride."

There was a roar of agreement and prolonged clapping. Mrs Ridley held up her hand and silence returned.

"Be all that as it may," she said, "Annette Cooper was nominated player of the tournament and that is really something. Many, many congratulations, my dear." She kissed Annette on both cheeks. "Very, very well done, Tig," she whispered. Annette looked at her amazed that this distant figurehead should know her nickname. Mrs Ridley grinned at her. "Oh, you'd be surprised how little gets past me," she whispered.

By now there was a chant going: "Tig! Tig! Tig!"

Annette turned to towards the crowd which immediately fell silent.

"Umm!" she said and the crowd roared. She grinned. "Twice in one day," she said softly. "I may have a career in public speaking."

There was another roar of laughter.

"I can't really say anything more than I said in Edinburgh. The only reason I got the award was Miss Thompson's coaching and your guys', she said gesturing at the team, "support. My job is to score goals. Your job is to give me the chances which you did. Louise started both winning goals and that cross from Heather was what every forward prays for. I share this award with all of you."

Again the applause was deafening. Mrs Ridley whispered in her ear, "Brilliant! Well done, my dear." Then raising her voice she said, "It would have been nice to have had a celebration now but with no catering staff over the weekend we're a bit stuck but celebrate this victory we will I assure you."

Everyone began to disperse. The team was a little slower as they all wanted to hug each other again and live their triumph a little longer. Annette inevitably was in the thick of it.

Deborah found Jenny Thompson. "Thank you so much," she said. "Hearing you over the phone taking everything in your stride gave me such confidence. I'm just sorry you got involved in a family nonsense."

"No confidence on my part, Mrs Hoddinot, I promise you. Alison is the one you want to thank. She was brilliant: cool, calm and a first rate communicator. I'll tell you something else. Initially, and not surprisingly, Tig was very shaken up. As soon as she had spoken to your husband she started to perk up and then she said to Alison that she had to go to the prize-giving. That took guts. Apart from what she did on the hockey field, you can be very proud of your daughter."

 
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