Chapter 13

“Happy Birthday to you.”

It was possibly the worst rendition of that song ever in the entire history of the human race. Not only was everybody (well, with one noticeable exception) a mile off key, but, even worse, everybody seemed to be a mile off a different key. But the thought was there, and they do say that it’s the thought that counts.

I was sixteen. I could smoke if I wanted to (no thanks), legally ride a motor bike, drink beer, wine or cider with a table meal in a pub or restaurant, get married (with my parents’ consent) and (fanfare please) give my consent to sex.

Cal and I had put all the fuss and fear of the previous year behind us, we’d got back from LA in early January, she was seeing a therapist regularly to work through her issues, and we’d even managed to get together once with Charlie, who’d flown over to England for a court hearing where she’d finally got her earnings back from her mother. Her TV show was doing well, had just been renewed for another year, and her contract had been extended, with a pay rise. I was just sorry that she couldn’t be here today.

I looked round the table and saw all the usual faces, friends from school and their significant others, My family, Cal’s Mum and a few of the neighbours. Plus, of course, Andy, Dad’s golfing partner and my solicitor. Who had just handed Cal and I cheques. Mine was for thirty thousand pounds, which was the hospital refunding my costs in whisking Cal out of the country (and their clutches). Cal’s was for considerably more, compensation for the malpractice from which she’d suffered, and was still undergoing treatment.

But tonight was a party. A sit down dinner, which meant that most of us could have a glass of wine or a beer with our meals, followed by a disco.

But before the disco, the attending hordes required a speech.

I stood up, and my Dad tapped his spoon on the side of his glass for silence.

“Thank you,” I said, and sat down again.

Howls of derision and demands for more greeted that, so I stood up again.

“Thank you,” I repeated, “very much.”

The howls and shouts started again when I moved to sit down. I remained standing.

“What can I say?” I asked, “last year was, shall we say, rather trying?”

That brought laughter.

“Cal and I went through a lot of turmoil in the last year, which has finally sorted itself out. When I said thank you a few moments ago, I meant it, from both of us. To our families, for standing by us, for defending us, and for letting us do what we felt was right. But most of all to you our friends. Not one of you took sides during the whole of that crisis, you continued to be our friends, even when we weren’t. You continued to include both of us in group things, you were true friends, and I hope that continues for the rest of our lives. But now I’m sixteen, and I looked it up and being sixteen, there’s a whole lot of things I can do now, that I couldn’t before. I can smoke. Well thanks for that, but I don’t think so. I can ride a motor bike, As I think we’ve demonstrated I can drink beer or wine with a meal, and it’s the age of content. I glanced down at Cal. I can legally do the horizontal tango. There’s something else as well, now what was it?”

I pantomimed scratching my head.

“Oh yes,” I continued, “I can get married with my parents’ consent.”

I put my hand into the inside pocket of my jacket.

“I disappeared for a while this afternoon, and when asked where I’d been, I just told the wrinklies that I wasn’t telling. I popped out to the Register Office and picked up a couple of forms, so if my parents and Aunt Mary can just fill them in, the Registrar is waiting outside.”

Everyone looked shocked, our parents looked horrified.

“Just joking,” I said, pulling my hand back out.

Everybody laughed, my Mum and Cal both glared at me. I suspect for two different reasons.

“And now,” I finished off, “there’s a DJ next door, so let’s go and PARTY.”

The Disco was enjoyed by everybody, even my parents ended up dancing together, and broke up at eleven o’clock, when a couple of minibuses arrived to take everybody home.

“Tell me,” Mike said, as we settled into our seats, “which one of you is moving next door now?”

“Neither of us,” Cal replied, “we’ll keep our separate addresses, although a change of clothes may be kept at each other’s houses.”

“And pyjamas?” Mike asked.

“Whatever for?” Cal replied with a grin.

Cal and I were the last out of our minibus and walked, holding hands, wearily into her house.

“Did you have a nice time at the disco?” Cal’s Mum asked.

“Yes, thanks, it was really good, and there was no trouble,” I replied.

“There’s never trouble with your friends, David, they’re a good lot.”

I leaned over to Cal.

“Notice she didn’t include us in that?” I asked.

“I wonder what trouble she thinks we are?” she asked.

“Lots,” her mother said, “are you staying the night or going home, David?”

I looked at Cal and she mouthed ‘stay’ at me.

“The boss says staying, Aunt Pat,” I replied.

“Well, you’d better stay then,” she said, “don’t want you getting in trouble with the boss. I’m off to bed, don’t you two stay up too late.”

Cal looked at me and smirked.

“What’s the smirk for?” I asked as I heard her Mum’s bedroom door close.

“I was just wondering how long you were able to stay up,” she replied.

“Well if I don’t go to bed before midnight, I tend to fall asleep on the sofa,” I answered.

“What time is it now?” she asked, as she slid across and planted herself on my lap.

I glanced at my watch.

“Eleven fifteen,” I said.

We kissed, softly at first, then with ever-increasing fervour.

“Upstairs?” I asked quietly when we broke the kiss.

She nodded, then stood up and held out her hand. Silently we walked upstairs to her bedroom.

I closed the bedroom door behind us and she stepped into my arms.

“Finally,” she whispered, as the ensuing kiss ended.

“Finally?” I queried.

“Finally, we can be together legally, we both reached the age of consent,” she answered.

“And do you?” I asked.

“Do I what?”

“Consent?”

“No,” she replied.

My face fell.

“No?” I asked, “what do you mean no?”

“I mean my precious man,” she replied as she kissed the tip of my nose, “I do not consent to sex with you. I demand that you make love to me.”

“As you wish my Princess,” I replied.

She slapped me on the arm.

“Did you have to quote the worst film in history?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “I just wanted to.”

“You and I are going to make love all night?” she suggested.

Just as we finished undressing, we heard Aunt Mary’s voice.

“Cal,” she called.

“Yes Mum?”

“If you break him, you don’t get another.”

We both collapsed laughing. Talk about a brilliant way to get your daughter and her boyfriend’s minds off sex.

Once we got over our laughing fit, I took Cal’s hands in mine.

“I suppose that means your Mum’s all right with what we’re doing,” I said.

“Better that than totally against don’t you think?”

I agreed with her.

“Our first time together where nobody is in danger of going to jail,” I said quietly.

I don’t think it was too much of a disappointment when she discovered that no, I couldn’t stay up all night, not that we didn’t try, but unlike what you might read in stories, we real people don’t tend to stay hard after the climax, nor are we able to come over and over again.

However, when I woke the following morning it was to an eager and enthusiastic young lady, well two weeks older than me, young lady, riding my morning erection to what became a very satisfying, if sticky, conclusion.

She collapsed on top of me and shuddered through yet another orgasm as my arms folded around her and held her tight. She kissed me, I kissed back, then a soft knock on the door interrupted us.

“Breakfast in fifteen minutes,” Aunt Mary announced, “I suggest that you both shower before you come down.”

We took her advice.

We tried it together but the shower cubicle was too small to fit us both in and still be able to shower, so, ever the gentleman, I allowed Cal to let me go first, then dried myself off while she had her turn. Once I was dry and she was finished, I helped to dry her off, personally making sure that all the little nooks and crannies were perfectly dry.

“David,” she whispered, “if you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to need another shower. And Mum will be getting suspicious.”

“I don’t think she is suspicious at all,” I replied, “she knows precisely what we do together.”

We had a final kiss and walked together back to the bedroom to get dressed.

Over breakfast Aunt Mary got her serious face on.

“Kids,” she said, “there are ground rules.”

We sighed.

“Don’t bother,” she warned, “I’m immune. Rule one, on nights where either of you has to go to school next morning, you David, will sleep in your own room at your own house. Calista, you will similarly sleep in your own room at your own house.”

“Actually, that’s reasonable,” I replied, “what’s rule two?”

“Rule two is that if your activities start disturbing other occupants of whichever house, rule one gets expanded to include those nights where neither of you needs to go to school the following day.”