Chapter 1

It was autumn. Definitely so. The October holidays can be lovely in Denmark - a bit like Canada's 'Indian Summers'. This year it looked none too good.

It was Saturday early afternoon and I was home alone. I had just returned from dropping my daughters and their little brother off at the station (a train ride was an added excitement for my son) to go on holidays at my brother's place on the mainland. I had to work.

Had to? Well, let's just say I worked. Since the shocking and unexpected loss of my wife a year ago, that was what I did - work - when I wasn't looking after my kids. My daughters - 18 and nearly 16 - had been urging me to start dating, but I just couldn't get my heart behind it. I reckoned you only get what I'd had once. I mean, do you known of anyone that kept playing Lotto after winning the big one?

So I had thrown myself into more work and been remarkably successful, even though it brought me little joy. Right now we were on the verge of closing a very big deal, which is why the 'had to work' bit wasn't completely off the mark. It involved a few more meetings here and a final meeting in London, followed by a party to celebrate the deal. I dreaded that one - there was this predatory woman in the consortium. She had been actively pursuing me for a while. Some prize idiot at work had let on that I was single and she had made crude and very direct overtures on several occasions. It could turn embarrassing quickly, and I had no idea what to do.

I realized my eyes were straining to see the keyboard - 2 PM, and it was pitch dark. Now that's unusual even for here - I got up to switch on the light. The rain was pelting down and suddenly there was a flash of lightning. Lightning in October?? I don't think it could get any nastier. I did a hasty backup of my documents and was about to make a cup of tea when the door bell rang.

I opened the door and was rewarded with a gust of icy cold rain laden wind. Outside was a young person whom I knew very well - a rather timid girl called Melissa. She is a friend and class mate of my oldest daughter Emma - they'd known each other since they started school, although they had only been in the same class for the first year and again now for senior high. But I had known her for 12 years and liked her a lot. She was bright, if not shining, one of those pretty girls whose shyness and lack of confidence had somehow left her behind in the dating game. Emma said Melissa had never had a serious boyfriend and that she felt it very acutely. It was strange that she and Emma should be such good friends; Emma was very comfortable in her own skin, had found a great boyfriend at 15 and was still with him. But she was also a very good and loyal friend to the girls she knew and liked.

Saying that Melissa was merely 'wet' would be an understatement. I frankly don't think she could have wetter, had she fallen into the creek. She was holding a small handbag in one hand and a larger soft sided 'weekend' bag in the other. Her bike helmet was still on her head, holding her soaked hair in place. She was a sorry sight. "Melissa!" I exclaimed. "Do come in!"

I stepped aside to let her in and darted to the bathroom for a towel while she took the helmet off. She grabbed the towel gratefully and dried her face. Or tried to. At least she stopped dripping, but she was thoroughly soaked. "Better get that wet coat off," I said. "There will be tea in a moment. What brings you here?"

She had nodded at my suggestion and brightened up a bit at the prospect of something warm, but now she looked at me confused. "Em' didn't tell you?" she asked.

"Tell me what?" Now it was my turn to be confused. Emma had told me nothing.

"Where is Em'?" Melissa asked.

"Why, Emma and Lydia and Ryan have just left for a week in Jutland," I said.

Melissa's face fell. "You're kidding!" She looked really worried now. "Em' didn't tell you that I was coming to stay?"

"Stay?" I asked - this was strange.

"Yes, stay. Mom and Dad and my brother have just flown off to Crete. I really needed to work on my Final Year Project, so I couldn't go. Em' invited me to stay the week."

After a brief uncomfortable silence, I recovered. "So you stay." This was so unlike Emma, and I was - for once - sure it wasn't just me that had things wrong. OK, I could easily have said 'yeah, whatever' if one of the kids wanted a friend to stay over and promptly forgotten, but this was different, I mean, they were on holidays and I was alone. "Simple as that, you stay," I repeated.

"Are you sure?" Melissa asked, sounding uncertain "I mean, won't I be in your way? I could try to phone Gran."

"I don't know what Emma was thinking of, but you are always welcome - you know that," I said warmly. "It won't be much fun with Emma not here, but you were going to work anyway, and feeding you and housing you is not a problem. You can even have a choice of beds now!"

Melissa nodded agreement and resumed getting her coat and boots off. It became obvious that she was soaked to the skin. "Better find something dry," I said.

Again Melissa nodded and opened her large bag. It was full of clothes. Damp clothes; the torrential rain had gone through everything. She looked up at me hopelessly.

"Cheer up," I said. "We'll raid Emma's and Lydia's wardrobes presently, and get your stuff in the drier. And you yourself must be chilled to the bone. We don't want you to catch a cold, do we? Can I suggest you have a warm bath?"

"That would be nice," she said.

I went back to bathroom, plugged the tub and started filling it. "Like lavender?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Shall I add some lavender to your bath?" I asked.

"Yes, please. That will be nice. We don't have a tub at home." She blushed. I wondered why, but added the stuff.

"You stay here while I get you some fresh towels - I'll be right back."

She had started to undress when I returned with the towels, but she was still in tee-shirt and panties. She blushed profusely.

"Sorry," I said, trying not to look her over too overtly. But the tee-shirt certainly was wet. "I grabbed a dry tee-shirt and a pair of panties from Emma's room. Feel free to look for other clothes once you're done. Use my dressing gown if you like." I nodded in its direction.

"Thanks," she said. "I will."

"Enjoy your bath. There will be tea and scones when you're ready." I left, closing the door behind me.

I took Melissa's bag down to the laundry and emptied it out. Nothing was really soaked, but everything was either wet or damp apart from a plastic bag full of school books and notes - they were perfectly dry; thank God for that. I threw more or less all of the clothes in the drier and activated the automatic program. Her bras and panties were plain and un-alluring. 'Oh, well - it's what you put in them that counts, ' I thought to myself. Her bras were small B-cups. She had looked bigger through her wet tee-shirt a moment ago. Possibly she was just one of those countless women that go through life with the wrong bra size. Strange. I shook myself back to the present. 'Not your business', I chided myself.

On the way back up the stairs I heard the phone and just exactly made it. It was Melissa's mother Helen on her cell phone with airport noises in the background. "We're at the gate and will leave in a few moments. I just wanted to make sure Melissa made it safely out to your place. The weather didn't look very nice."

"You can say that again," I replied. "She was drenched. So were her spare clothes. Right now she is having a warm bath to thaw out, and she will wear some of Emma's clothes until her own are dry."

"That's sweet of you. It was a pity she had to stay behind, but Senior Year is so tough, isn't it? I really appreciate she can stay with you. Obviously she is old enough to look after herself, but she can get so much more done on her project when she doesn't have to run a household at the same time and..." Helen went on. I like her and her husband Steve a lot. Steve is very quiet. For a reason. Helen sure can talk!

Before I got a chance to tell her that the arrangements were somewhat different from what Melissa had thought, Helen cut herself off. "Oh, we're being called to board now. Gotta go. Give Melissa my love. Bye"

"Bye," I said into the silent telephone.

Melissa came out of the bathroom wearing my dressing gown and with a towel around her hair. "Have you got a hair drier?" she called.

"Sure, there is one in our bedroom," I replied automatically, and then corrected myself with a sigh "That is to say, my bedroom."

A look of compassion came over Melissa's face. "You still haven't gotten used to it, have you?" she asked softly and then suddenly blushed again realising perhaps that she might have gotten too close or betrayed something Emma had told her.

"No, sweetheart," I said heavily. "It takes time."

The master bedroom is also on the ground floor. Melissa fled there and I heard her busy herself with the hair drier while I got the tea and scones ready. She came out of the bedroom a few minutes later. Her dark blond hair was softly hugging her face making her look absolutely gorgeous "I feel much more human now," she said.

I smiled. "Do you want to have the tea now, or shall we explore Emma's and Lydia's wardrobes first?"

She hesitated. "Tea would be nice. You're sure you don't mind?" indicating the dressing gown with a gesture. I shook my head and hunger won the argument.

Mind? I sure didn't. She looked very very nice just in my dressing gown. Particularly when she sat down opposite me at the dining table and the gown started to open at the top. Perhaps she was only a B, but then it was a large and very firm B.

We enjoyed the tea and scones, chatting freely about this and that and gradually moving towards more personal subjects. "Do you think you will ever remarry?" she asked, this time not blushing or looking awkward - the rapport between us having established her leave to ask.

"I don't know. I don't rule it out. I just haven't found anyone I fancied. Not until now, anyway," I replied - formulating for the first time what I had been thinking about over the last half year or so, and not finding it strange at all that I was telling this to someone I had known from a child. "And what about you?" I countered. "How come there's no one special in your life?"

"Dunno," she said. "Two years ago I was really desperate about finding a boyfriend - I envied Em' so much." She smiled and carried on. "But Em' is special, and she's been so incredibly lucky with Mark. That's not the norm - I've seen so many of my girl friends having absolute awful times with their boyfriends, so I decided to go for quality or not go at all."