Chapter 4

Anna

I wasn't surprised that Jazz didn't agree to a date with Dan before Easter; I don't know if he asked her, even. She was very affectionate towards me and, I confess, I wasn't sorry she wasn't in a hurry to move on. I mean, what do you think? Gorgeous young thing, delightful company, marvellous sex ... I'd be an idiot to throw it away, right? Still, I thought she ought to be having more to do with someone nearer her own age.

Just before the Easter break, she sent me a text – could she bring home a friend? For supper? Of course – why not?

The surprise was the friend she brought home. I had assumed – you know what they say about 'assume'? That the friend was a contemporary. Well, Anna was at Uni; she was actually undertaking the PGCE course (the teaching qualification) but she wasn't a youngster. She looked about forty (actually, as I found out later, she was fifty-one). Even apart from that, she couldn't have been more of a contrast to Jazz. At five-foot ten and a little on the heavy side, she was a big girl ... I mean, woman ... I mean, lady, of course. That's not to say she was unattractive; quite the contrary in fact ... just different.

I made her welcome, of course; she accepted a cup of tea graciously "Earl Grey? That would be a treat."

I ought to have smelt a rat when Jazz excused herself and disappeared upstairs, but I was getting to know Anna ... sort of. It was much later I got all the details of her life. Remember how I described Jasmine? Anna, as I say was tall and built to match. I suppose a critical judge might think she was carrying a little too much weight, but I certainly didn't think she was fat. Light brown, long, wavy hair; brown eyes, oval face...

I'm a bit intimidated by women who go to great lengths to disguise their age – I'm not fond of make-up and don't get me started on botox and such-like. I mean, you know it's a derivative of chemical warfare, don't you? Anna wasn't like that at all. Someone unkind might describe her face as 'lived in'; meaning she had laughter-lines and a slightly weathered complexion. Somehow, though it didn't make her look old – as I say, I initially guessed her age as forty-ish. There was something about her expression, though. I thought, under the usual curiosity about someone you're meeting for the first time, there was ... sadness ... and maybe nervousness.

She sat in the kitchen with me and sipped tea as I chopped and grated, sliced, mixed and stirred. There's an American expression I've come across that I quite like – we 'visited' together (I think that's how it goes). She liked the outdoors; walking on the moors, bird-watching. In the past, she'd done some sailing; she was reticent about that. She had a full licence to ride motorcycles as well as drive, but she hadn't had a car since the divorce. Sheffield? University? Change of career. Oh, before? In advertising, but she wanted to do something more meaningful.

Oh, yes, we covered a lot of ground in quite a short time. I didn't go into the details of my own relationships, just that my wife had walked away one day and Jasmine kept me company. I suspected Anna knew more than she let on about, though.

By the time supper was ready, we were getting along quite well. The tea had been replaced by a glass of sherry and, on a whim, I opened a bottle of vin rouge; not expensive, but quite a nice accompaniment to braised steak and baked vegetables. I noticed Jasmine raise her eyebrows, though, when I offered it after saying grace.

Jasmine and I walked with Anna back to the house she was sharing about a mile away. You can tell a lot about people by how they handle silence. Do they chatter to fill the space? Or is the silence uncomfortable 'I want to say something but I don't know what or how'? In our case, I would say it was a 'comfortable' silence, with the occasional comment from one or other of us.

As we walked back home, Jasmine was ... gay. In the old sense, swinging our arms and almost skipping along. We were passing the gate to the Botanical Gardens when she stopped me and pulled my head down to kiss me. Her kisses are to be enjoyed at any time, so I did.

"Okay, not that I'm complaining, but what's this about?"

She grinned up at me. "Let's get home."

She waited until we were in bed, my hands exploring her, before starting the conversation.

"You ... ahhh! Liked her, ummm ... didn't you?"

I lifted my head from sucking on her nipple, "who?"

"Come on, Bill. There's only been one 'her' in the house this evening ... oooh ... do that again!"

I did and she jerked and groaned.

"We're talking about Anna, here? I thought we were making love," I lifted my head from her crotch to speak, but dived straight back as soon as I finished. She didn't respond ... verbally ... as her climax hit. I slid into her, and rolled us onto our sides, so we were facing each other, fully connected. She hooked her leg over me to hold me in place. I thought there was no finer feeling right then; as close as I could be to this lovely woman, her breasts pressed against me.

"This is a good time," she said, staying quite still, but squeezing me with her vagina, "for us to talk. I don't want you to doubt, ever, that I love you. But answer me ... you liked Anna, didn't you?"

I shrugged, caressing her back. "Yes, I did. Very much," I admitted. "So?"

"So she needs somewhere to live. The girls in the house where she's living at the moment want to take in another more their age, so she's looking around. I thought she could have the guest room."

"It's going to make it pretty obvious you're sleeping with me."

"Only to Anna. To anyone else, she and I would be sharing the room."

I might have been suspicious, but it's difficult to concentrate on possible complications or manipulations when one's penis is deeply embedded in a gorgeous young woman. Who, right then, began to move...

Anna moved in a week later ... and the following week, Danny and Jasmine had their first date. Would that have told you anything? Jasmine was home before midnight, as she was the next three ... no, four dates over little more than two weeks. I supposed I was happy they seemed to be getting along so well ... wasn't I?"

We had a marathon, Tuesday night. Jasmine seemed determined to try out every position and technique we'd ever tried, and after, she clung to me as we drifted into the arms of Morpheus. Her next date with Danny was Thursday. For once, we didn't make love on Wednesday night, just cuddled and slept in each other's arms.

Thursday evening, Anna cooked and suggested a bottle of wine to go with the chicken with all the trimmings she'd prepared. It was excellent and with the alcohol and a happily full stomach I was in a good and relaxed mood. We sat together on the sofa afterwards, listening to a Catrin Finch CD. When Anna's mobile bleeped to indicate she'd got a text, I didn't suspect a thing until she handed me an envelope.