Chapter 47

Lauren woke to find herself being shaken by the woman while Emma and Jamie looked down at her.

"Wakey wakey, we're here. Follow me and I'll find out which rooms you three can have." She disappeared round the side of the truck, Jamie closely behind. Lauren swung off the back and landed hard on the ground, her limbs tight and aching.

"Ow, shit!" she moaned. Looking up to find a target for her wrath, she discovered she was in the grounds of a wonderfully old house. Huge, grey flag stones climbed from the driveway forming steps up to a single grey door. Either side of the two-story house were bay windows trimmed with magnificent white climbing roses. The tiled grey roof rose to a high apex, just below three huge trees that offered shade from the sun. She heard the sound of water in the distance and could see bees buzzing between the roses and colourful borders around the grounds. A glimmer of a smile spread across her face as she limped off towards the children and their new found benefactor.

"Lauren, right?" asked the woman.

"Yes. What a beautiful house. Is it yours?"

"My uncles. I'm using it for Nationalist work during the conflict. Now, my name's Maria" she announced, pulling the beret from her head. Her hair remained pinned up but Lauren noticed the dark shine of absolute health. Emma continued to sulk, staring out of the window. "I have to make sure your government knows you're here. They can then make arrangements to have you collected or whatever. Have you all got passports? I assume you have?"

"Yes, but my father always said never to let your passport out of your sight." said Jamie, feeling the back of his jeans.

"He's right. All I want to do is photocopy the first five pages. Then I'll let you have them back. Any time today is fine. Are you all Swiss nationals?" she asked, removing her sunglasses before reading from her clipboard. In profile, she was very elegant in Lauren's opinion. Her skin was indeed without a blemish, and her nose seemed perfectly proportioned. The dark hair, eyebrows and long eyelashes gave her a cultured, refined look. Maria looked up at them from her register, waiting for an answer. They nodded. "OK, follow me, I'll show you where you'll be staying. Presently there's only one other group, and I expect them to move out tomorrow afternoon. Lauren and, er, what's the little girl's name?"

"Emma" said Lauren, taking in the rest of her features. She was gorgeous, her white smile flashing, lighting her round face, contrasting against her tan. Lauren's eyes followed her neck, down over her breasts to the slim, belted waist. Mentally, she unpinned her hair and watched as her face and shoulders were framed to perfection. She allowed her gratitude and respect for Maria to mingle with less honorable feelings.

"OK, Lauren and Emma will share room 4. Jamie, you can have room 7 on the other side of the house. Come on, follow me!" she said, eyes flashing as she strode off down the corridor and up the stairs. Lauren watched as she easily doubled up to the top, waiting for her guests. The rooms were furnished with twin beds, a dressing table with drawers, plus a small bathroom that overlooked the back garden. Jamie's room also had two beds, similar furniture, bathroom and lack of luxuries.

Their downstairs tour included the lounge, a large yet dark room with a single pink sofa, two or three old red chairs and very European floral wallpaper. The room smelt as though the windows hadn't been opened for years. Lauren noticed the old rotary phone in the corner with delight. There was one other bathroom, close to Lauren's room. It was by far the most modern, with a whirlpool, separate shower and rich carpeting on the floor. The kitchen was light and bright, with large pots, pans and utensils hanging from huge hooks in the ceiling and a beige tiled floor and marble worktops. It had clearly been extended to make room for a breakfast area that doubled as an airy conservatory. Finally, Maria pointed out the door to the basement, remarking that there was little down there except storage. As the tour concluded, Lauren realised that the house was much larger than she would have thought from outside.

"Breakfast is at eight o'clock," she continued, "lunch at twelve and dinner at six. There's a radio in the kitchen along with a phone. There is a television, but not good reception except for local channels. There's a few videos of my uncles, mostly travel stuff, I think. And there are plenty of books in the lounge. In the garden there's an exercise barn that my uncle is sort of converting at the moment." She paused for questions, and found silence and smiles. "Good! Let's have a late lunch, say at two o'clock, that will give you a chance to shower. There should be some clothes in your rooms. See you then!" She turned on her heel and swished out of the kitchen.

The girls returned to their room with the suitcase, tipped the contents on the nearest bed and surveyed the dismal contents.

"This means we've only really got what we have on now to wear, you know!" said Lauren, looking down at herself. Her face screwed up in displeasure. "We'll have to wash everything every night for the next day. What a pain!"

"I'm going to shower" announced Emma, peeling her T-Shirt over her head. The deep seated surge of pleasure bubbled through Lauren once again, her heart responding predictably to the lack of a bra. Emma's small breasts were crowned by her sleeping nipples, ready to be caressed, tweaked and brought to attention. Lauren averted her gaze just before Emma's head emerged from the T- Shirt. Pretending to tidy their belongings away, she caught several glimpses of the youngster as her jeans dropped to the floor and she sat down on the bed. Pulling her legs up alternately, she removed her white socks and threw them on the floor. Her small, tight knickers stretched round her slim buttocks and looked like they cut almost painfully into the tops of her legs. She stood, and Lauren watched her buttocks twitch as she strolled into the bathroom.

"Hey, I found my washing things!" shouted Lauren happily.

"Good, any soap?" Emma turned to her from the doorway and slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers. She stopped, waiting for a reply.

"Yep. Hairbrush, plasters, toothpaste and toothbrush. Scissors, comb, antiseptic cream and other bits."

"Glad I didn't have to carry all that!" she quipped, pushing her knickers down over her knees. She slipped her toes into them and flicked them up, catching them cleanly. Lauren saw the traces of pubic hair that had grown once again, just below the temptation of her breasts and flatness of her belly. Emma sat on the toilet and chatted away as she relieved herself. Lauren was torn between wandering into the room to talk to her as she washed and simply waiting, letting what was sure to happen at a more leisurely pace. Given that they had lunch in less than forty-five minutes, and the sudden realisation that they would be in the same room for however long it took to contact their embassy, Lauren decided that time was on her side, and lay down on the bed, chatting to Emma as she stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts of the young girl's body tormented her, partially satisfied with brief glimpses of her as she stood from the toilet, stretched loudly, bent to adjust the shower mat and eventually dried herself both in the bathroom and beside the bed.

"Look what I found" said Lauren, opening one of the drawers in the dressing table. "Army shirts"

"Hmm, they look big!" said Emma, sitting down, still naked, on the side of the bed.

"There's lots. I expect we can borrow one or two. Here's a medium, try that on"

Lauren stood and slipped off her own T-Shirt, followed by her bra. Her breasts itched from the heat and confinement, and she massaged them with as much dignity as she could without being provocative. Emma stared. Grabbing a shirt, she undid the buttons and slipped it on, pleased that while it was a bit big, it offered clean, cool clothing. It also descended mid-thigh, which meant that while they were in the bedroom, she could remove her kickers and wash them.

"These are fine, right?" suggested Lauren.

"Yeah!" said Emma, grabbing a shirt. She threw it on the bed and finished unashamedly running the towel between her legs. "Nobody at home has got these. Perhaps I can get a picture of me in it!"

Lauren slid out of her jeans and knickers, knowing full well that Emma was happily staring at her. "Ugh!" she snarled. "Look, the dye has run in my jeans, my legs are all blue where we splashed all that water this morning!"

Emma touched her thighs as though expecting something sticky. Her fingers were inches from Lauren's pussy as the two looked at each other. Lauren shook her head gently, smiling as she reached out and touched the side of her face.

"Shh! I'm all smelly." But rather than walking towards the shower, her willpower briefly lapsed and she pulled the girl's head against her stomach, holding her head tight. Emma responded quickly by wrapping her arms around her buttocks and legs.

"Oh Lori, I think we're safe for a while." Silence for several seconds as Lauren watched her, moving slightly as though she might be crying. "Thanks for looking after us!"

"That's OK. Come on, I need to get washed. Stay there and talk to me?"

Lauren wandered into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She really wanted to go to the toilet but had no intention of going again in front of anyone. She showered slowly, trying hard to get rid of the blue stain around the tops of her legs and above her pubic hair. She realised that there was a feint band of blue around her stomach from the waistband of the jeans and cursed her luck. Obviously it would come off with time, but it looked horrible. They chatted as she washed, Emma sitting eventually on the toilet lid, babbling happily about their journey and their luck. Lauren emerged squeaky clean, dripping onto the floor as she toweled herself dry.

She looked at Emma carefully with a strange feeling that she hardly knew the girl, much less had been her lover. There was a great deal of ground in her mind that would have to be covered before they shared the same bed again. Perhaps the war had changed their relationship. It had certainly taught Lauren a few things about herself, a fact that she was proud to admit. Deciding that there was no point in covering herself from another girl, she parted her legs slightly as she dried her pussy and the tight crack of her buttocks. Apart from the blue tinge to her thighs and stomach, she decided that she still looked reasonable, her tan extending from her trim breasts down passed the triangle of dark hair over her silky thighs to her toes. Emma certainly seemed to approve and barely took her eyes off the soft curves of her figure.

Dressed and clean, the two girls giggled as they emerged into the hallway. In their new regulation shirts, without shoes and socks, they made their way downstairs in search of food and life.

Maria didn't object to the use of the shirts, and after the first day, Jamie joined in, although he continued to wear his jeans as well. The phone turned out to be barred from long distance and operator connected calls, so Lauren settled down to write to her parents and the Swiss Embassy in Venezuela, handing the letters to Maria to put in with the military mail the next day.

As she explored their new surroundings, the realisation hit her that the house was more secluded than she had originally thought, high in the hills with a breathtaking view in almost all directions. They met the other couple that Maria had mentioned, a girl and boy from a local village of about Emma's age, who were unrelated but both from families who were only temporarily resident. Their explanation in a mixture of languages was beyond the powers of Jamie and Lauren, but they seemed nice enough. They shared a room next to Emma and Lauren, which struck her as strange, but she thought it may have been busy when they were brought in. She knew they were both thankful for the help, and smiled at each other continually as though the best of friends.

Their first day at the house could only be described as relaxing and quiet. They were required to share chores like some of the cooking duties, cleaning, and expected to keep their rooms clean. Maria flitted around, talking on the phone, on the radio from the truck, or hustling soldiers who delivered food and other packages to her. Her mood softened the more she spoke to Lauren, until at the end of the second day, Lauren felt that she really seemed to want to speak to her, to almost crave her company.

They spent almost an hour together in the morning after breakfast. Lauren initially offered to lend a hand around the house, and Maria assigned her some menial duties that included filing, shifting boxes from the front door to the kitchen and cleaning. Once she was finished, Maria found her in the lounge sitting on the sofa and the two talked about anything and everything. Maria told her about her film production, an aborted career in public relations and her travels around the world. She had been to Switzerland, had fallen in love, married and been divorced in the space of four years. On occasions, Maria would touch Lauren's arm, adding sincerity to her words, seeking reassurance that when she said that men were bastards sometimes, it of course didn't include her boyfriend. To Lauren's surprise, she added that women were the same to each on occasions as well, which caused them both to laugh and read into the words whatever they liked.

Lauren, however, nodded continually, absorbing much of the woman's fascinating history, and digesting her rehearsed speech about the treacherous government, the brutality of the police state and the cause of the Nationalist forces. But Lauren detected, after listening for five minutes to Maria, that there were undertones of sincerity, based on her upbringing, the poverty surrounding her childhood, and the chance she had been offered to make something of her life. Lauren added occasional confirmations when prompted, watching the woman's lips as she spoke, the soft, dark outline of her hair, and the rise and fall of her chest as the drama and passion of her speech gathered to a crescendo.

"Lauren, through your upbringing, you've probably never been to bed hungry. You didn't have to go out and find food for your family when you were seven years old. Or look after your father." Lauren bowed her head, embarrassed at her life-style. "The people of this country have toiled for too long without their just rewards. Do you know, the top two percent of this country own ninety-three percent of the land?"

Lauren shrugged, looking around the room, wishing she could bring herself to tell Maria that she too had suffered problems during her childhood, and although not money- related, they had been indelibly etched in her mind. She could see in Maria's eyes the fire and force of the depth of her feelings, and felt the woman's silent accusations of leading a pampered, over-fed, guiltless life. Maria rose and swept out of the room, leaving Lauren to stare at the open door as her footsteps receded.

Just after lunch on the third day, Lauren found Maria and Emma deep in conversation in the breakfast area. Clearly the subject was not for her ears, because they were huddled close together across the table, but Emma emerged from the talks much happier than she had been since their arrival.

On two occasions, Maria had caught Lauren puffing up the stairs and joked about her fitness level. She suggested that Lauren join her on a daily workout of thirty minutes in the barn. Lauren found all manner of reasons to fob her off, but secretly visited the barn to see for herself what might be required. After all, if she was to be holed up for any length of time, any diversion from a daily diet of Spanish cartoons, unintelligible news and eating might be very welcome.

The barn was larger than a double garage but still small enough to feel at home. The cobbled floor had been covered in places to support exercise bikes and weight machines. A ladder led up to the old part of the hay loft that hadn't been touched. Windows had been put in to give the place more light and magnificent views of the hilly countryside. Lauren imagined it would be wonderful in the evening, as long as the mosquitoes didn't know about it.

But it was the fourth day that gave Lauren a surprise that disturbed her. Shortly after a marathon two hour chat with Maria, in which they had discussed the war, men, isolation in the hills and Maria's career before the military, Lauren took what had become a regular afternoon stroll round the grounds, leaving the others to watch television. She crossed the driveway and walked parallel to the low wall that marked the edge of the property.