Chapter 19

Thursday 9 April 2009

So it was with a heavy heart that she set off on Maundy Thursday afternoon for Joseph's cottage. She turned off the road along the track on a day which was now sunny after showers all morning. The fields looked greener, and some of the trees were already in bud ready to burst into life. There were sheep with lambs in the adjacent fields, and spring had arrived in earnest. She made the two right angle turns and shortly the cottage came into view and her spirits lifted: it looked lovely in the afternoon light.

As she parked, Joseph came round the barn and she knew he had been working in the greenhouses. His smile was broad and loving and immediately all her misgivings evaporated as she climbed out of the car and went to his arms for a deep kiss and a hug. This – his arms round her at the cottage – felt like home, felt like the place she really wanted to be.

"I'm so happy you're here for four whole days," he said. "I've missed you since last weekend."

She could not answer, but made a little noise of satisfaction, and another kiss. She had missed him, but now there was that shadow of uncertainty looming. It was unsettling and a source of mystification that she felt at home in her flat, and at home here also. But which was the more powerful home: which one did she want to be in most? Now she felt almost certain that this cottage was where she wanted to be, but had a vivid memory of feeling safe and comfortable in her city flat.

They made their way, arms around each other, round the cottage to enter by the back door and Joseph immediately set the kettle to boil for a pot of tea. The atmosphere and homeliness of the room washed over and surrounded her and she revelled in it. It rapidly became clear that part of this atmosphere was a wonderful aroma: it was roasted lamb and rosemary.

She sat at the table, noting the pans on the stove: all was prepared for the meal.

"Smells wonderful!" she said.

"My parents always had roast lamb on Maundy Thursday," he said. So I always eat lamb today in honour of them."

"What a lovely idea!" she said. "Can I help.?"

"All done," he replied, setting her mug of tea in front of her. "Now you sit and relax after your journey while I sort the animals." With that he took Bob, who had been welcoming Angela in his own way, with broad tail wagging and resting his head on her thigh for some petting, and went outside.

Again the blessed silence fell on the house and she relaxed into it. She idly wondered why she was so uncertain about Joseph and their relationship while away from him and the house, while as soon as she arrived all her worries evaporated and she was able to sink into the comfort of this place and person.

She wondered which emotion was the real one. Was this real, or was her flat and city life? All that worry seemed so unreal now, but was she being deceived? Was it because this house and Joseph were a holiday from real life, or was this real life? They were old, often rehearsed questions, but there did not seem to be any clear answers.

Ironically, Joseph was having similar thoughts as he went about his tasks.

He had all those doubts about her, and now she was there in the kitchen after her kiss, and he felt there were no problems at all. Somehow everything seemed in place, felt right.

While he was aware that this was his emotional reaction to her presence, the reality was that she was not suited to the life he led. He sighed as he milked Susan, then came the thought: people adapt, and she could adapt to a different life, no matter where she now lived and in what manner of living.

He thought back to the weekend and how unreal her life seemed to him. He knew he could not live that life she led any more. Too much noise, tension, too many options. Could she live a life diametrically the opposite? They needed to talk, but he did not want to raise the questions: he recognised the fear that she would agree and that they would reluctantly part for good.

Then came the clear thought. What had to be done was what was best for her. How could that be done? Be practical, he told himself, and began to ponder the possibilities.

It occurred to him that part of the pain of Susan's rejection of him was that he was not party to what she decided: he was the powerless victim, and nothing he could do could change what happened. But if he and Angela made a plan together... ?

He immediately felt better. They had time to plan a strategy, and did not need to decide anything quickly. Perhaps, not this long weekend. Perhaps, as Barry said, they could see how she coped with the summer and the autumn.

It was with a spring in his step that he returned to the house.

When he entered the kitchen he stopped. The kitchen table was once again draped in the pure white tablecloth, and it was set for two, with wine glasses and a bottle of his best Australian Red which was open and breathing. He smiled, and went to the cooker to put the vegetables to cook, and to baste and turn the roast potatoes.

He turned as she entered the room and opened his eyes in surprise. She was dressed in her little black dress with a diamond necklace, matching earrings and bracelet. She was wearing dark stockings or tights and three inch heels, and she'd put her hair up. He had always been entranced by her sinuous neck and now it was beautifully exposed to his gaze.

"Oh Angela," he sighed, "You are so beautiful."

She coloured prettily and came to his arms, making him all the more conscious of his working clothes and dirty state. He held her off while leaning in for a kiss.

"Can you look after things while I shower and change?"

She gave him her what do you think? look and went to the drawer to fetch and brandish an apron to protect her party clothes. He laughed and left the room.

He returned in his best suit, shirt and tie, his hair, usually unkempt, carefully brushed, and his face shaved. She gazed at him and gave a deliberate throaty sigh. There was time for an embrace involving a good deal more pressing bodies together before it was time to serve the meal.

There was little conversation during the meal beyond comments from Angela on how wonderful his cooking was and a reciprocal one from Joseph on how beautiful she looked that night.

There was however much communication. Each gazed at the other from time to time, and each saw love in the gaze, which prompted smiles. After the main course, his hand crossed the table to cover hers, and she in turn held the hand.

Joseph looked at the woman before him, saw afresh the delicate prettiness of her face, her little turned up nose, her generous mouth and those intense hazel eyes. Her thick hair, brown but light enough to be almost blonde, was up, well brushed and shining. Her dress allowed the hint of her perfect medium cleavage. It came to him that she was far better looking than Susan had been, and with this appraisal, carried out in snatched glances over the meal, all his doubts about whether he was in love with her were swept aside. With everything he had, he wanted her.

For her part she reprised all that he had taught her, her body remembered his firm strong body, his gentleness in strength, the hardness of his chest and abdomen, she saw anew his gentle brown eyes and knew the love in them as he smiled at her. She noticed his large strong hands and remembered the muscles in his arms. In her turn she felt desire growing as the meal progressed, and a pleasant dampness between her thighs. She longed for his strong arms to be round her and his hands wondering over her pliant firm body.

So each of them decided independently of the other that they did not need anyone or anything else that night to make life perfect. Each put aside all the misgivings they had before which now in the warm kitchen seemed trivial, and revelled in each other's glances and smiles, and each felt the sparks of lust beginning to burn. No thought of the future, there was only the now.

It was not simply physical desire. It was affection, warm companionship, relaxation in each other's presence: any observer would have to say they were in love, and that evening as they ate together each of them realised it.

The meal ended, Joseph stood and turned towards the kitchen door.

"I'll come with you," she said, divining that he wanted a check on the animals as the last of the light disappeared.

They made the rounds, chatting about the increased laying of the chickens, the milk yield from the goats and which of Joseph's fields Barry was using this year to pasture the sheep.

"Meditation?" she asked as they finished tidying the kitchen on their return.

"Yes," he agreed, reading into her question a request. They settled as they had become used to doing. As she settled down to be cross-legged on the floor, her dress had to ride up to the top of her thighs until her knickers were in full view. She was glad she was behind him, knowing with some satisfaction that the sight would end his meditation immediately.

It was during the hour that the misgivings about their relationship rose unbidden, and each of them refused to be enmeshed in their respective dilemmas but allowed the distraction as they saw it to pass into peacefulness.

However, when after the hour he stood and turned, his eyes were drawn instantly to her legs, where they joined and pretty covering of her womanhood. He held out his hands to her and helped her up, but then, before she could straighten her dress, his hands were pulling down that flimsy covering to her knees and sweeping up to cup her damp naked sex and press his palm against her.

She threw her head back, groaning at his passion for her, and her fingers pushed through his hair, opening her whole upper body to him, as her lips sought his, her tongue pushing into his mouth and those sharp breasts pressing against his hard chest.

They mauled each other's mouths until she could take it no longer and pushed him away, rapidly reaching round to unzip her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor and then stood for his inspection in her best and thinnest black bra, suspenders and her micro-knickers still at her knees.

"Oh Angela!" he gasped in admiration and shedding his jacket began to undo his shirt.

"Leave it!" she growled. "i'll do it!"

She looked up into his eyes from under her long lashes as she undid one button at a time, and kissed his neck, his chest and, bowing, his stomach, as more of his body came into view.

He sighed and moaned at the sensuality of it, and undid his own trousers, whereupon she pulled his shirt off his shoulders, pushed down his trousers with his briefs, while at the same time drawing her legs together to allow her knickers to fall to the floor. They giggled as they stepped out of the pooled clothing.

Not for long. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, and carried her to the bedroom, placing her gently onto the bed. She watched his hardness waving about as he took off his socks, and then he crawled onto the bed, ready to give her some oral attention.

"No!" she said sharply. "Put it in, I'm almost ready to burst!"

"Ah! So am I" he cried, "I won't last!"

"Don't then! Oh, hell, I'm coming now!"

She watched as he hovered briefly above her before his thighs came down and thrust his rigidity into her with all his might. She yelled open mouthed with the intrusion of his plundering and of her own orgasm which began before he entered her, then deepened and intensified so that her initial cry became a series of guttural moans and pantings as she twitched with the intensity of it.

He gave a roar as he came even as he was thrusting into her for the first time, and thereafter grunted and gasped as he continued to slam against her defenceless body, again and again, feeling the spurting of his gift to her.

He fell on her, and both of them were panting hard with the exertion of it all, feeling each other's aftershocks.

"That was a surprise!" she panted.

"That was unexpected!" he panted simultaneously, and they laughed.

"Good enough?" he enquired, lifting the weight of his body on his elbows.

"Good enough!" she said indolently. "You certainly give the term 'rogering' a more vivid interpretation. I really needed that, there was a cold draught up me all though that meditation: I was frantic by the end!"

"You should have said, I could have put something else up you," he said evilly.

She was briefly shocked at his earthiness, but then countered with "No, it was better that way, I can't remember ever coming before any physical contact, and you certainly improved the orgasm when you ploughed in. It felt fantastic to be used like that! You can put your something else up me anytime you like!"

They could have settled into sleep without further ado, but Bob needed letting out, and the fires needed banking up, so they did all that together – in the nude. Angela got them both a glass of milk and once the house was secured, they went back to bed, where they made gentler love gazing at each other wonderingly, and falling asleep as they liked to do, in each other's arms.

10 April 2009 Good Friday

There are no bank holidays were animals are concerned, and Joseph crept from their bed as the eastern sky began to lighten into deep blue, saw Bob out of the door, and went for a shower. When he returned the bed was empty and he walked nakedly into the kitchen to find Angela, also naked, pouring tea into their mugs.

"Good Morning!" he whispered into her ear as he embraced her from behind, his hands cupping her breasts.

"'Morning!" she replied, snuggling her head against his chest and feeling his dormant penis begin to rise. She broke from his grasp and presented him with his mug. "You were going to let me sleep, weren't you?" she accused him, smiling with triumph at her success in foiling his loving plan.

"It's a Bank Holiday," he protested. "You are entitled to a lie in."

"Not here I'm not." she asserted. "The animals don't know it's Good Friday."

He nodded with a contented smile, and after their tea, they dressed and donned their coats against the cool morning and went out into the dawn twilight. The ground was wet from overnight rain, but the sky was clear of clouds and much brighter now and it was obvious where the sun would arrive.

They did the chores together, and consequently finished in half the time.

"You've really got the hang of it," he said with admiration in his voice. "So efficient!" and he laughed.

They brought the milk and the eggs back to the house and boxed the eggs.

"Meditation?" she asked him. He nodded. An hour later, he went to the kitchen and she to the bathroom to shower and dress in new underwear, after wearing yesterday's for the farm duties.

Barry arrived for his customary toast and tea, and his face lit up as Angela walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of tight jeans and a skinny rib jumper which outlined her bra covered breasts to perfection, his eyes travelling over the sight. Angela smiled and he reddened a little and then grinned having been found out.

The early sun had already been obliterated by clouds sweeping in from the west, and Joseph decreed they would not be going out that morning, but would make hot cross buns.

They made the buns in the morning and the rain stopped before lunchtime.

"Fancy some field work?" he asked. She nodded.

"Sowing seed potatoes?" he added. "Back breaking work. At least it's cloudy." She nodded again with a smile.

"I'm not joking," he said.

"Yes, I'm fine with that. Let's do it."

There was a short delay when they came to change in the bedroom. Angela stripped to her bra and boy-shorts, and Joseph to his briefs. They looked at one another, took the few steps to each other and ran hands over each other's bodies, ending with his hand cupping her sex and hers around his lengthening penis.

She shuddered grinned and shook herself. "Work to do. Rewards afterwards."

"Yes Miss," he said with a plaintive air and they reluctantly put on their work clothes.

Yes, it was backbreaking. Joseph used his cultivator to make furrows in the field and then they placed the potatoes in the trenches made before Angela used a hoe to fill in the furrow while Joseph made new furrows and continued sowing.

"You know that it's an Irish custom to plant seed potatoes on Good Friday?" he said as they worked.

"Really? Why?"

"The day commemorating the death of Jesus. It was reckoned that planting on such a sacred day would prevent the devil coming and ruining the crop."

She laughed. "Does it work?"

"Don't know. This is the first Good Friday I've ever planted them." And he laughed as well. "It's usually late enough so that when the shoots break the surface, they miss the worst frosts."

After five hours' work during which Joseph noticed she more than pulled her weight, they finished the sowing and returned to the house.

"Shower?" he asked as they stripped off their work clothes.

"Together?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Together," he answered and slipped down his briefs. She gave an exaggerated stare at his manhood, and then shimmied out of her panties. He returned the favour, and she grinned as she unclasped her bra and was naked. There was an hiatus, as he stared and she stared back.

"Looked enough?" she asked with mock indignation as if affronted at his lust.

"No, I could look for ever, but let's shower – if you've seen enough?" he teased.

She turned and preceded him to the bathroom, deliberately giving him the gift of her pert buttocks swinging as she walked with an exaggerated sway of her hips. He growled and she giggled.