Chapter 6

Sherise was not a happy bunny. She'd thought she'd sorted Abigail, but here they were, obviously even closer than they had been, their body language proclaiming to anyone who had the eyes to see that they were intimate. What made it worse was the emotion in Abigail's expression when she looked at Sherise ... pity. She had no right to pity Sherise; just because she'd picked up one of her discards, even if Sherise had been intending to claim him back once he'd gained a proper understanding of her power and status...

University life was back in full swing, the usual horde of freshers bumbling around, finding their way and kicking over the traces, away from home for the first time.

Abigail and her contemporaries were back in the groove, with the obvious difference that she and Mike took every opportunity privacy afforded to express their love physically.

Significant events ... October saw the Judo grading. Abigail achieved her Black Belt, first Dan. Mike actually achieved his orange belt, skipping right over yellow. The instructor, returning from London, congratulated them from the exalted heights of his newly awarded third Dan. Mike and Abigail went out for a meal together to celebrate.

Early November, Abigail completed her CBT and was free to ride the Honda 125 she'd reluctantly bought, albeit wearing 'L' plates. She'd eventually agreed there was little point in buying a 'classic' until she had a full licence. The two machines were, in fact, not terribly mismatched in performance, though the AJS had a lot more torque, of course – for riding two-up there was no comparison.

Slight digression here on the subject of Judo. Judo is a sport, of course. It is not, really, a self-defence system or martial art and most of the time it is relatively safe. Of course in any physical sport, especially contact sports, there is a real chance of injury, but in normal judo, it is a limited risk. The founder of Judo certain Jigoro Kano, who studied several of the traditional Japanese martial arts and created an eclectic form, adapting what he considered the best and most useful techniques he'd learned. Nowadays, only throws, chokes and arm-locks and ground holds are practised and used in the dojo. However, the original form included strikes, as in karate as well as resuscitation techniques, and serious practitioners learn and practice 'katas' which include all the original techniques. It's quite fascinating – try googling it. Anyway, while it is not a self-defence system or martial art, obviously it trains in self-discipline and co-ordination as well as physical fitness, and it is not wise to attack a competent practitioner. Even if they're seventy-five years old and five foot four...

Towards the end of the term, coming up to Christmas, the Students' Union organises a big dance. Abigail had never gone dancing – who would take her? This year, however, Mike insisted.

"But I can't dance!"

"Neither can I. That isn't the point. It's a social event, where boys show off their girlfriends and vice versa, and pretend to dance. And drink. And socialise. I want to show off my girlfriend."

"Really? You want to go to a dance just so you can be seen with me?"

"Yep!"

"That makes no sense to me at all."

"Abby, sweetheart ... we don't have to do this, but I'd really like to take you to the dance."

"Well ... if you put it that way..."

Of course, there was more to it than that. Not that the dance was an essential element of Mike's plans for the evening, but he did want to publicly escort his beloved to a major social event. As it happens, his mother had commented that her brother had invited her to visit them in Nottingham; she'd be away for a week which meant he was going to have the house to himself ... Abigail was excited and wasted no time in informing her mother she'd be away from home during that week.

The next time Mike called at her house, he was met by her father.

"Can you spare me a few minutes, Mike?"

"Sure, Mr. Ferguson."

Once ensconced in his home office, Mr. Ferguson came right to the point.

"Are you sleeping with my daughter, Mike?"

The question came out of nowhere for Mike and he hesitated for a few moments before doing the only thing he could – tell the truth. Looking him straight in the eyes and colouring slightly, said "Yes, sir, I am."

"Well, you're honest, at least," he paused, "you'll appreciate that's not something the fathers of most daughters want to hear?"

"Yes, sir. But, if I lied to you, what would that say about my character?"

"Quite. But I have to ask this ... what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Mike took a deep breath. "Right now, I believe I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I love her, and one day, I'll ask her to marry me. In the meantime, I just want to spend as much time as I can with her."

"What about her birthmark?"

"I don't notice it any more. Abby and I ... discussed it. I told her I'd love her whether she had it removed or not; that I loved her, and that it was a part of her, but that if she wanted to get rid of it that was alright with me."

"I see..." He could see that Mike was a little uncomfortable, but thought he was facing what amounted to an interrogation rather well. "Very well, Mike. Abigail's an adult anyway, so I'd not have much chance to prevent her doing whatever she wants ... but ... as I said to you before, I'm trusting you with my daughter. I appreciate you're both young and all sorts of things can happen ... just ... don't hurt her."

Mike looked steadily at him. "Hurting Abby is about the last thing I'd want to do. She's a lovely, gentle person ... if I ever hurt her, I'd hand you the club."

"Go, make my little girl happy, Mike."

"Yes, sir."

Mike found Abigail in her room, her nose in a book on micro-circuit architecture. She looked up as the door opened...

"You alright, Mike? You look a bit ... shocked."

"Your Dad just asked me if I was sleeping with you."

Her jaw dropped, then snapped shut. "And?"

"And I told him yes."

"You didn't!"

"What else could I say. I have been!"

"What ... Oh, my ... Mike, was he very ... upset?"

"Actually, he seemed okay about it ... he told me to 'make his little girl happy.'"

She grinned and got up. "Well, if it's an order, what are you going to do about it?"

"Well," he started, pausing to kiss her, then pushing her backwards onto the bed, "I'm going to start by removing your slippers," suiting action to words, "Then, I'm going to stroke your feet ... and suck your toes..."

She squeaked as he took a big toe into his mouth, and giggled. Matters proceeded from there; most satisfactorily for both of them.