Chapter 4

I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading and editing skills; and of course their encouragement.

Clarification: Muggin's = someone who has been conned into performing some service, or been otherwise disadvantaged through an embarrassingly simple ruse.

"Youngs" is a formal-dress rental company with outlets all over the UK.

In the following weeks I was pleased to hear through the family grapevine that Shirley and Brian were back together and engaged again; and that the wedding was planned for the summer. To be honest I think I felt quite smug with myself for a while, but I'm not sure I should have been. Quite a few folks break off their engagements and then suddenly decide to get married. I think it's often that they don't realise how attached to each other they've become until after they break things off. You know the old saying, "You don't know what you've lost until it's gone!"

Anyway back to my struggles with love or finding the right girl for me at least. Shirley's friend came down to stay for the weekend a couple of times. We made wonderful music together, but I'm afraid there wasn't much in the way of chemistry between us. It appeared to me that I could find plenty of women to bed and have a good time with. But I just couldn't find one who could ignite my fire like Emily could and she was out of bounds; and married with children by then.

I attended Brian and Shirley's wedding alone, much to my mother and father's chagrin. They couldn't wait until all their children were married off. When I danced with Shirley the night of her wedding she held me very close, too close I thought and I told her so.

"I know you did it!" she whispered in my ear, "I just don't know how. I wish I could take you back to bed and thank you!"

"Just make sure you give the old folks plenty of grandchildren. That's all the thanks I'll ever need," I replied.

"I don't think there's going to be a problem there; I'm late this month as it is." She grinned at me.

Later in the evening I danced with Emily. I noted that she wasn't quite her usual self. She put it down to the children being a strain, but somehow I wasn't convinced. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and I noticed that Graham was giving us a strange look.

It was some years later that I discovered that Emily talks in her sleep sometimes. Looking back now I have to wonder what he'd overheard. The guy was never - shall I say, relaxed - around me. I'm not sure but there was something about his attitude to the twins as well. Well, I thought, it might be that he was one of those guys who doesn't relate well to children even if they are his own. I never saw him pick them up or show them off once.

Brian, who obviously saw him more as they lived in the same town, said that Graham was always going on about there being no other twins in either family. Brian remarked that Graham didn't say it in a proud way, but more a questioning way.

"You know, most guys would be proud that their wife produced twins. Graham behaves like its some kind of affront," Brian said to me whilst we were standing at the bar waiting to be served.

One other rather strange thing happened that evening. Emily's mother came up to me and asked me to dance with her, something I could never recall happening before. Whilst we danced she talked absolute nonsense to me; to be honest, I thought she had overdone the booze a little, but she didn't appear to be drunk. She'd start talking and then suddenly stop and start on a different subject. Once again on reflection I should have realised there was something she wanted to tell me that she couldn't bring herself to do in the end.

I saw or rather could feel her watching me as I left the reception that night. At family gatherings after that, it always seemed to me that she had something on her mind when we talked, but she never did say what it was. That, I discovered after my uncle and her untimely deaths.

The next few months were busy ones for me at work. My department had gotten even larger and I was charged with setting up a full time training school for new service engineers. Up until then their training had been a little haphazard. After their initial basic course, everything had been on an ad-hoc basis, when new machines were about to be put on the market. It worked, but it wasn't very efficient.

I think everything had just settled down to something like normal again, when Cecilia stuck her head around my office door that fateful morning and asked, "Stew, are you busy?".

"No, I think we're just about getting back to the normal level of chaos. Come in and pour out some coffee." I grinned at her, feeling pretty good about myself and how the last few months had panned out.

"This isn't really business. Stewart, I need to ask a really big favour of you," she said, making her way over to the table where my coffee machine sat.

After pouring us both a mug full, she came over and sat in the seat beside me which normally belonged to Karla, my secretary, when she was in the office.

"So what's cooking girl?"

"Stewart, I need a really big favour."

"You've said that once; now come on, spill the beans. What is it? Are you short of cash again?" I asked. Cecilia could spend money like water sometimes.

"Oh, shit, nothing like that. I just need a boyfriend for a weekend. Or two!"

"Sorry?" I asked, not expecting what was to come next.

"My brother's getting married at the end of the month and I need a boyfriend to attend the ceremony with. Would you mind coming with me and pretending that we're an item?"

"Why don't you take Rachael along?" I suggested with a grin on my face, knowing full well that that wasn't an option for Cecilia. Her folks had always been narrow-minded at the best of times.

She looked at me aghast, but then noticed that I was grinning at her.

"You bugger!" she retorted and then went on. "Well, will you? Stew, I really need your help on this and I need to know today."

"Look, Cecilia, I've had quite a time of it lately. Isn't there someone else you can ask? I was planning on getting away for a week or so."

"What better can you want than a couple of weeks in the West Country? I can swing the time off with no problem and we could go down next weekend."

"West Country? What are you talking about?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

"Oh, didn't you know? My family moved down West when I was at Uni. My brother moved with them so the wedding is being held near St. Ives. We could book into a hotel or something near a beach and go surfing together."

"Hey, hang on, Cecilia. I said I wanted rest, not to go gallivanting around with a load of hippie surfers."

"Okay, we could book into some quiet hotel on the moor and take things easy for a while. Maybe a little sightseeing or pony-trekking on the moor. I know you ride."

"Not for donkey's years, girl. I'm not sure I'm up to it anymore. Why is it so important that I go anyway? Surely you know plenty of guys who'd go with you."

"Not really, Stewart. When you've got the kind of reputation I've got, most nice guys don't want to know you and the ones who do; think they are going to prove something."

"Oh!" I said.

"Oh, yes, and besides, I've kind of told my folks that you were coming."

"What do you mean by, kind of?"

"Well, to be honest, Stew, they were bugging me about not having a steady boyfriend and I kind of led them to believe I did have one."

"Holy cow! Is that why you kept taking those photographs whenever we went out to lunch together?"

"Yes. I'm afraid it was!" she said, looking quite sheepish. "Honestly, Stewart, I didn't start out to tell them a lie - well, not about you and me anyway. But when I moved up here they kept bugging me about who I was seeing and I couldn't tell them about Rachael. My dad would have had a bloody coronary or something.

"When I discovered that you were working here, I just happened to mention to them that I went to lunch with you one day and my dad just jumped to a conclusion after that. I didn't think it through really; after all, when we were young, you and I were always going out together. I'm sorry. Are you angry at me?"

"Cecilia, you know you've got some bloody front, haven't you and, yeah, I think I am angry. What the hell would have happened if they came up to town or something?"

"They did twice, but I told them it was bad timing because you'd had to go away on a business trip. But there's no way I can get away with that for my brother's wedding."

Needless to say, a week later saw muggin's driving Cecilia down to Cornwall. We'd settled on going down on the Friday and in theory returning to town on the Monday. Cecilia had booked us a double room - two single beds - in the same hotel as the reception was being held at.

On our arrival just after lunch, we were enthusiastically welcomed by Cecilia's family. I hadn't seen any of them for many years and, to be honest, when we'd met in the past I'd never imagined that they'd thought very highly of me, although I always got on quite well with her brother. When we arrived, her parents treated me like a long lost son or something, introducing me to all and sundry with great enthusiasm. They were all over me, embarrassingly singing my praises; that was a reception I hadn't expected.

Cecilia's father insisted on calling me son, which I also found strange and embarrassing.

"Hey, son, Cecilia had booked you into a real dump of a room. I know the guy who owns the hotel pretty well, I've had him upgrade you to the honeymoon suite," he said with a big grin, much winking, and jabbing of his elbow into my ribs.

When he said that, I had to wonder what Cecilia was going to say when she heard that bit of news, but when we arrived at the room she appeared to take it in her stride.

The Friday afternoon and evening was to be taken up with a rehearsal for the following day's ceremony and then we were all going for a meal together. Oh, and I had to find time to try on my morning suit. Something else that took me by surprise, Cecilia hadn't mentioned it was going to be one of those extremely formal affairs. The suit that was rented would obviously have had to have been ordered in well in advance, and I did get curious as to how Cecilia or her parents had gotten hold of my size.

"Young's." Cecilia casually replied. "That's where your secretary said you always hire your formal wear from, and they keep your details on file, you know. Oh, the dress shirt is new, a little thank present from me to you for coming."

"Cecilia, to have had this get up delivered down here you have to have ordered it weeks ago."

"Yes, six weeks ago actually," she replied smiling.

"Well, what if I'd turned you down and refused to come?"

"I'd have had egg on my face, wouldn't I? Besides I was pretty sure that I could rely on you, Stewart, providing I didn't give you time to think of a way out of it. You're the kindest man I've ever met."

Then she lent forward and kissed me on the lips, giggled and disappeared into the bathroom to shower and, I thought, change. I heard her singing away to herself in there for a while then she asked me if there was a hairdryer in the room. I expected her hand to appear around the door for me to hand it to her but, when I told her that there was, she threw the bathroom door open, walked into the room revealing herself to me in a tiny thong and skimpy bra.

I quickly looked away. I definitely heard a giggle in her voice as she said, "Bathroom's free. Your turn!"

I do remember thinking to myself, "What a waste!" regarding that body of hers as I collected everything that I'd needed and went into the en-suite myself to shower and change.

I'm dammed sure that I locked that bathroom door, but about ten minutes later whilst I was in the shower it opened and Cecilia strolled in and began to fiddle with her make-up in the mirror over the washbasin.

"Cecilia, what the hell are you doing?" I demanded, covering myself with the shower curtain and sticking my head around the edge of it.

"Putting my face on, sweetheart. Don't let me bother you!" she said, our eyes meeting in the mirror over the basin.

"But I'm in the shower!"

"I think this is where I'm supposed to say that you haven't got anything I haven't seen before," she answered, and then giggled. "But I'm afraid that I can't. With any luck I'll get a glimpse of that cock that you used to enjoy grinding into me so much. You know, the only one that I've ever seen in the flesh was my brother's when we were both little. All the others that I've seen have been in porno films, or in pictures.

"Cecilia, what the hell would Rachael say if she heard you talking like that?"

"What can she say? She only shares a flat with me nowadays. There's nothing between us anymore."

I don't know what expression must have come over my face - surprise, confusion or maybe curiosity. But Cecelia read something in it.

"Stewart, I, um, Rachael and I have been no more than friends since about six months after I started working for the company. Actually since that day we saw you at the Christmas dance with Rigmor."

She turned around and looked straight at me.

"Surely you saw the way she lusted after Rigmor that day. Christ, it was embarrassing!"

"Sure, I noticed," I replied, remembering the occasion. "I think Rigmor had felt uncomfortable; I know I did!"

"That's when I realised that Rachael is a philanderer; I think that's the right word," she added casually. "Men who seduce women willy-nilly are called philanderers aren't, they? I suppose you can have lesbian ones as well. Anyway at the drop of a hat, she'll chase any bit of stuff that takes her fancy. We had words about it and I discovered that she's into orgies and things as well. Lesbian orgies that is; she never goes with men no matter how much they offer her. Not my idea of love or any kind of relationship at all!"

"But you live together!" I decided to overlook the mention of paid sex.

"No, we share a flat, that's all. We had a pretty big bust-up over it, but we're tied into sharing the flat until the lease runs out. We got over it and now she does her thing and I... well, I just live there. We haven't been intimate with each other since."

"Well, I'll be buggered. I didn't have the faintest idea," I said, astounded by her statement. For some reason I knew that what she was saying was the truth.

"Why should you? It served my purpose to let everyone think we were still in a relationship. You'd really be surprised at just how many women will stab you in the back and have an affair with someone they think is involved with you."

"Hey, look, girl, that goes for both sexes. If there's a bit on the side available, most guys will take a shot at it and bugger who they stab in the back in the process."

"Anyway, Stewart, you're not attached at the moment and neither am I. If you can forget about the past, just for a little while, perhaps we could... ?"

She went silent; all of Cecilia's usual confidence had suddenly evaporated. I'm not daft. I knew full well what she was suggesting. But I couldn't think what to say to her. I was what you might call in shock; remember all the time I'd known Cecilia she'd apparently been a card carrying lesbian.

"Stewart. I'm asking you to be my first..." Her voice petered-out, then she stood there staring at me, waiting for me to say something, anything. It looked to me as if she was about to start crying.

I didn't speak; I really couldn't think what to say. I stepped out of the shower still naked and dripping water all over the place and took her into my arms.

"Cecilia, you're a beautiful woman, but are you really sure about what you're asking?"

There was a further delay before she answered in a very quiet voice.

"Stewart, do you remember those dances we used to go to at college and how we used to dance together?"

"Sure do. You really used to turn me on all the bloody time. God, I'd have banged you silly if I'd had half a chance," I replied.

"God, the times that I wanted you to take me as well; but Emily was in love with you and I couldn't do that to her. It just wouldn't have been right," she said, twisting her head up so that she could see my face.

"Hold on - I thought you loved Emily?" I asked. This conversation was getting even more confusing every time that Cecilia spoke.

"I did, but not as much as I loved you. We both loved you. She couldn't have you because she's your cousin and I couldn't have you because it would have crushed Emily. But I did love you, Stewart." Now I could see tears in her eyes.