Chapter 7

Anna woke me – not deliberately – as she moved to get out of bed. You see, I had my back to her, spooned up to Jasmine. She leaned over to kiss me gently and I reached back and caught her hand, carefully easing away from Jasmine who made little complaining noises in her sleep.

"I need to go..." she whispered, "and I need some coffee."

"I love you," I whispered back, "I think Jasmine needs to wake up with me still here, though."

She smiled, "of course. But if you don't let me go, there's likely to be an accident..."

I released her and turned back to Jasmine, who sighed as I spooned up to her again, and began gently exploring her body, stroking, caressing, enjoying her presence. She sighed, stretched and turned, lithe as a cat. Opening her eyes, she looked at me and smiled brilliantly.

"Thank you!"

I must have looked puzzled.

"Thank you for being here when I woke. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for last night. Thank you for taking me in in the first place ... Just ... thank you."

"Seems to me I have just as much to thank you for."

She kissed me, just a brush of the lips. "Good. Very good ... I'm glad. But now... coffee!"

She slid out of bed, but turned and held out her hand to me. I couldn't resist my sexy little pixie, or the glint in her eyes.

There's something liberating about being able to be naked. Anna hadn't drawn the curtains back which was just as well; she was sitting and eating her breakfast just as naked as we, though she did have a dressing-gown draped over the back of the chair. She looked us up and down, a slight smile on her lips.

"Very nice," she commented, "but what if someone comes to the door? Do you think perhaps a robe might be a reasonable precaution?"

Jasmine gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh! I'll get us some," and dashed back upstairs.

I went over to Anna, brushed aside the hair covering her neck and kissed it. My hand reached down and cupped her breast.

"Oh, so you haven't lost interest in me, then?"

"Never."

"How are you feeling?"

"Still working that out. But, I need to hear from Jasmine and you how you two are going to make things work, because I'm a man, and an ageing one, too. The older I get, the less I think I understand women. I don't want to hurt or upset either of you, but triples are inherently less stable than pairs. At least, so I've been told."

"I've got an idea about that. A 'family council' once a week – a set time and place, no appointments or excuses permitted, and any of us can call an emergency meeting if they have a serious issue; the meeting to have priority over anything but a life-or-death emergency."

I nodded, "that could work. Of course it's predicated on Jasmine staying here, which I'm not sure about in the long term."

I sat down, tipping muesli into my bowl and adding milk as I heard Jasmine coming downstairs again. Coming into the kitchen, she draped my dressing-gown over the back of my chair, rubbing her breasts against my shoulder-blades then bending to kiss my cheek.

"If anyone had described this scene a year ago," I commented wryly, filling my mug with coffee, "I'd have thought they'd been at the magic mushrooms."

"Regrets?" Asked Anna, as Jasmine sorted out her breakfast and sat to eat.

"Some," I admitted, "you two, and Tammy and Fee, have done wonders for me, but you haven't filled the Susan-shaped hole in my life. I suppose ... it's like ... my heart's grown to make room for you two; the hole is a smaller proportion, but it's still there."

They looked at each other, then at me. "And if she wanted back into your life?" That was Anna; it occurred to me that she'd acquired a... senior wife role within our ménage-à-trois.

I took a deep breath; "I said it before; she'd have to have precedence. I'd hope we could work something out, but I'd really like her back in my life."

Her hand reached out and covered mine. "We understand that, and accepted it before ever coming here."

"You did?"

"Oh, yes. You don't think your daughters left anything to chance, did you? If she accepts us, and wants back... ?

"Then I think I'd be very happy."

"Good! Now ... didn't you say something about servicing the Panther?"

"Aye. I'd say a full morning on that."

"Well, there's a literacy conference at Uni for teachers and teaching students, and Jasmine and I are going. So we'll be out of the house most of the day and we'll eat at Uni. So we'll see you this evening, okay?"

I was about half-way through what the old bike needed, thinking seriously about a caffeine fix, when there came a knocking at the garage door. Actually, as it was open, knocking was unnecessary – anyone could just walk in and speak. I looked up to see Dan standing in the open door. If anyone needed a photograph to go next to a dictionary definition of 'sheepish' he'd have made an excellent model.

"Er ... Granddad?" Hesitantly...

"Yes, Daniel," using his full name deliberately. He winced.

"I know I messed up," he said quietly, "Mum suggested I come and talk to you. Can you spare a bit of time?"

"I'm ready for a break," I admitted, "I was just dreaming of coffee. Want some?" I walked over to the sink in the corner of my workshop, rubbed at the grime on my hands with some Swarfega and rinsed off. It's wonderful stuff, but it plays hell with the skin – takes all the natural oils out as well as removing oil-based grime. I made a mental note to put on barrier cream after my break.

"Could I have tea?" He asked.

"Sure, no problem. I bet you'd want frothy milk with coffee anyway, wouldn't you?"

"Don't really care for coffee at all," he said.

"Well, if you're going to University, you'd probably better get used to it. Let's get inside."

Once we were settled with our drinks and some shortbread to nibble...

"I was horrible to Jasmine," he began, "but I soon realised I missed her ... badly. I wanted to apologise and try to mend things, but it seemed too hard and, of course, the longer I waited the harder it got. Now, I just don't know what to do."

"First of all, I have to say you upset her very badly. Do you realise how unreasonable you were? She told Anna and me it was because she wasn't a virgin and, reading between the lines, it was partly because she was trying to guide you so you could make things better for her when you were making love."

He went a quite remarkable shade of red with embarrassment, but he met my eyes quite steadily.

"I thought ... she was probably quite a lot more experienced than I realised at first," he said.

"And she's a couple of years older than you. But if you hope to have a good relationship with any woman, you'd better learn to listen to her; especially when it comes to pleasing her physically."

If possible, he blushed even darker. Youngsters never like to think the older generation know anything about sex.

"Anyway ... I suppose the first question to ask is, do you want to be back together?"

"Yes ... I can't get her out of my mind."

"Well, your first move is a sincere, abject and comprehensive apology. If she accepts it, you can move to being friends again and maybe progress to a relationship. Don't make excuses, just admit you were wrong and ask for forgiveness. If you're willing to do that, I'll see if I can get her to listen to you. You might try asking your father for some advice – or your mother, for that matter."

He choked as some tea when down the wrong hole.

"Seriously, not every older person is great at sex, but most know more about it than you do. Actually, something else I've just thought of; you need to at least agree a truce, or it's going to be uncomfortable if you bump into her at University in the Autumn."

He nodded.

"But right now," I said, draining my mug of coffee, "Bessie needs her points cleaned and the timing set."