Chapter 8

They got dressed and spent a lazy day, watching more DVDs and just talking. Mid afternoon they started dinner - Hannah had planned an elaborate meal and it took a while to cook. Around 5.30 Dave and Joanna arrived with the younger kids, having collected Liam on the way. Fiona was happy and exuberant after a day and a half of ballet. She had slept in the car home and was full of energy again - and wanted to tell Hannah everything. Her enthusiasm was so infectious that even Catherine forgot to be a grumpy teenager and listened instead.

The blow-by-blow account of the ballet school carried on into dinner. When Fiona had finally run out of steam - though possibly not things to tell, Dave hastened to ask as casually as he could "And what have you two been up to this weekend?"

Catherine and Hannah looked at each other. There was a slightly nervous look in Catherine's eyes that wasn't lost on her mother, but Joanna didn't say anything.

"It is claimed that one picture says more than a thousand words," Hannah eventually said - and then had to avoid Dave's eyes as he made a theatrical gesture of relief just outside the periphery of Fiona's vision that almost made Hannah crack up. She retrieved a photo print from the PC printer and handed it to Joanna and Dave.

It was the snapshot from the movie premiere. Joanna's eyebrows shot up, but still she didn't say anything.

Her husband studied the picture - he'd been in Catherine's room often enough to work some of it out. "Even I know who the chap is," he said, "but who is the chick he has put his arm around?"

Hannah, Catherine and Joanna exploded in laughter. "That, my dear, is our oldest daughter," Joanna said.

Dave was gob-smacked. His stunned expression had everyone in hysterics.

"I think," he said subdued, "that at least some of those thousand words this pictures supposedly replaces need to be spoken anyway."

"Possibly," his wife said, "but not here and not now. And some of them may not be good for you!" The women laughed again.

Catherine and Hannah launched into a kids-friendly version of their weekend, including DVD watching, clothes shopping and the movie premiere, but most definitely excluded the push-up bra, the lesbian bar and the topless breakfasts - and the other activities that involved various stages of undress.

"And Catherine got herself a boyfriend," Hannah teased.

"Did not!" Catherine said blushing scarlet.

"Did too!" Hannah retorted. "Or at least an admirer, boyfriend status subject to parental approval."

That obviously needed some further explanations. "We met him at the premiere. He is the nephew of the chairman of the film's distributor and a very nice kid," Hannah said. "He knows Catherine is only 13 and was told to clear all contact with you two."

"I gave him your number Mum," Catherine said. "He is a keen swimmer and asked if I would like to go to the pool with him one day."

"That's fine sweetheart," her mother said. "I'll talk to him."

"I would tell him that you are to have no boyfriends before you're 18 and that you must wear neck to knee swim suits," her father teased. "But why bother? After what you wore last night, he knows exactly what he's getting anyway..."

His wife shot him her withering 'cease and desist' glare and Dave backed off.

Fiona finally got to see the photograph. She expressed sea-green envy with meeting the actor, admiration for the blouse, the make-up and the hair-do and wanted to know all about the film - a request Catherine happily fulfilled. "Can I go see it too Mum?" Fiona finished off.

"No, Sweets, you can't," Joanna replied. "You have to be much older - they wouldn't let you in." She shot Hannah a sideways glance and winked.

Hannah winked back and the conversation turned to other matters. It had been a long weekend for all of them and it was back to school and work in the morning so the party broke up early, but not until everyone had helped clear up after dinner despite Hannah's feeble protests. "Rubbish," Joanna cut her off. "It is no trouble and besides you need to be fresh tomorrow for your new work!"

Catherine was sent to pack up her stuff which she dutifully did in the guest room aided by her mother. She bestowed Hannah a sisterly caress when they left and Hannah, who suddenly felt very tired went to bed almost immediately and slept like a log.

Back home with the younger children safely in bed and asleep, Joanna knocked on her oldest daughter's door and entered. Catherine was in bed already too, so Joanna sat on the edge of the bed like she did about a week earlier. "So, did you have a good weekend?" Joanna asked.

"The best Mum," Catherine replied. "We had so much fun! Hannah is such a sweetie."

"Did you work a few things out?" Joanna asked - not wanting to infringe on Catherine's privacy and willing to back off immediately, but still curious.

"Kind of," Catherine sighed. And then with more vigour she added "Yes, well, I did. But it still sucks having to choose."

"You know," Joanna said, "there is really nothing to stop you from remaining very close - as long as there are some lines you don't cross. Mainly not to hurt whoever you end up with permanently."

"Mum..." - Catherine had opened her mouth to speak but faltered. She somehow knew she needn't tell her mother that Hannah and she hadn't crossed those lines anyway. Instead she said something else. "Mum, if Thomas does ring, can I go swimming with him?"

"I can't see why not," her Mum said. "If he is as nice as Hannah says then it would be OK."

Joanna got a hug for that. Just as she was leaving, her daughter called her back.

"You know Mum; one can get padded swim suits too. They work just like the bra Hannah bought me..."

Joanna laughed, but in a sweet and understanding way. "That's an idea. We can't have that the young man gets disappointed, can we?" She left the room.

Catherine sighed and rolled over. She felt safe and happy and loved.

Upstairs Dave was waiting for Joanna in bed. He took a very keen interest in 'Operation 4th Baby' and while Joanna assured him that if they hadn't already done the deed it was too late for this month, his 'well, we'd better make sure' argument was irresistible.

As they were basking in the afterglow, Dave was gently playing with his wife's breasts - what they lacked in volume they certainly had in the nipple department. He suddenly said "When did our daughter get cleavage and how come she got to go to a 15-rated movie premiere?"

"The answers to those two questions are closely related," Joanna said with a sigh as her husband's nipple-stimulation triggered a small after-tremor in her womb. "In order to get in to a 15-rated movie she had to look 15, and in order to do that, a push-up bra was used. It worked."

"I'll say!" Dave replied. "She looked like my O-level students." Like many teachers he still referred to 16-year olds that way. "Anyway," he continued, "were you aware that they would be doing that?"

"The movie premiere?" Joanna asked. "No, I didn't. But they had carte blanche to watch whatever DVDs they liked irrespective of ratings. Hannah must have taken that as a general permit, and indeed that was OK. We agreed they could do just about anything they liked."