Chapter 1

I was just taking the casting from the jig after I had machined it when I spotted him coming towards me. I cleaned of the dust and started to check my work with a micrometre when he walked up.

"That's what I like to see my boy." he said cheerfully, his hand briefly holding my arm before sliding his hand down it. He makes my skin crawl. "I've got some bad news for you son, I can't come to your wedding, I would love to," he grinned "but the wife's already committed us to another party." punctuated with a wink.

"Thank fuck for that." I thought, yes I have to work with him but I don't want to see him socially, I only asked because he overheard me ask Darren and Bob. I offered him the casting to check, as usual he made a meal of it, made a note on his clipboard as he said, lowering his voice and putting his head close to my head, too close. Why does he think garlic is a breath mint?

"Oh yeah, me an the ol' lady, we go to some really hot parties, if yer know what I mean?" he smarmed, again his sentence punctuated by that annoying wink, "Perhaps it's a tic?" I wondered as he turned and walked away. He looked at the clipboard, tucked it back under his arm and marched off, swinging his arm like he was on parade.

I smiled as I watched him walk away I knew he was lying. Darren came over from his workstation.

What did Whinger want?" he asked

"Nothing much, just to tell me he and his wife couldn't come to my wedding." I grinned at him shaking my head.

"He really thinks nobody knows doesn't he?" Darren asked

I nodded and started putting a new casting in the jig. "We can slag him off later." I laughed.

"Yeah." he laughed going back to his work station.

We worked out the rest of the day and as soon as I was home I showered and got dressed up for my stag night. Mum dished me up a couple of bacon butties, I had to change my shirt after eating them. I had only just done that when Titch pulled up outside with a minibus full of reprobates and beer.

Titch drove buses, so he was able to hire this one cheap, it had only cost us twenty five quid each, fuel included. Not bad for a two day hire. So there we were, off to Brighton for two drunken nights in some of their pubs and clubs. We started with a pub crawl, the first one we hit was, I think the Queens something or other, head, arms backside or whatever, opposite the station. Titch dropped us off outside it, and went off to park the bus up at the B&B we were staying at. Hopefully he would book us in as well.

It's not my fault he doesn't drink, and it's nice he likes driving. The next pub was tucked away round a couple of corners, but really busy. It was called something like the Evening Star. One thing you can say about Brighton many real ales and quality ciders are available, tonight for me was going to be a cider night. We then headed, by mistake into the gay quarter as it's known, we all could've pulled within ten minutes. I actually think Chas might have taken a walk on the wild side if he wasn't surrounded by witnesses. He did spend all his time in one pub talking to a couple of quite passable Trannies. I must admit it is an interesting experience being chatted up by a member of the same sex. Interesting, but not threatening. Even Derek seemed to manage not to get upset about it, and he's a real homophobe. We did get a frosty, bordering on hostile reception in a bar that had mostly lesbian clientèle.

We had some giggles with others we met. Others like us, that were also on stag or hen nights, but mostly the jokes and banter were kept amongst our group. That was until we found ourselves, for the second time with a bunch of girls we had met earlier. Both groups had twenty people, tell a lie we only had nineteen Titch hadn't come to find us. We were all about the same ages, except one. One of the girls was a woman, I mean she was older and she had got my attention earlier.

No I didn't want to pick her up, or anyone. It's just she looked familiar, I was sure I had seen her before. If not her then her face, maybe a picture I had seen a few years ago. If it was the face I remembered, it was a while back, she looked older now.

My mates, and the Hens girlfriends, were trying to get us to have a dance and a snog. We had the dance, but both of us really didn't want to get into anymore. Why the fuck should we, we were both getting married to the people we love in a weeks time. We had our dance and sat down to chat, we were joined by the "older" woman.

She was truly beautiful. Long dark hair, full red lips, tall and slim. As I said, I did not want to do anything to betray Karen, but if I did she was the only one I had seen tonight that could even tempt me.

"Hi I'm Mike," I offered my hand.

"I am Cheryl, you already have met my niece Samantha." she smiled as she spoke. We got talking, so were the others so we ended up spending the rest of the night there. Cheryl led the conversation, at first comparing the situation Sam and I were in, what our fiancées were like when I told them where I lived I could tell Cheryl would have been happier if I had been from somewhere else. When we got to jobs and I told her where I worked, there was definitely something there. She guided the conversation back to Samantha and tried to keep it there.

I excused myself and headed to the toilet, it was only then I noticed my fellow stags, and the hens had all sloped off together; leaving me with the two ladies. As I stood peeing, I was thinking over what had been said. As I was trying to work out what was up with Cheryl, I realised, all she had volunteered about herself was her first name and that she did not live in the same town (Basingstoke) as Sam. I zipped up and returned, half expecting them to have deserted me and was not surprised to find our seats empty.

"Cheers guys, great stag night." I said to myself, then I was tapped on the back, I turned and it was Cheryl, holding out a pint of cider to me.

"Sam's gone to the loo." she informed me, the smile was back. I smiled too, the cider and the sheer fact I hadn't been totally abandoned gave me a boost. Taking the bull by the horns as we sat down I asked her why she had been avoiding talking about herself.

"Lots of reasons, ones that don't only affect me. Can we just leave it at that." she said, I reluctantly agreed. Just then Sam returned, I must have been spending too much of my attention on Cheryl, it was only then that I noticed how pissed she was. She sat down with a thump next to me and leant her head on my shoulder.

"Where are you staying?" I asked Cheryl. "Perhaps Sam should go lie down."

Cheryl gave me that look again, the one that appeared when it seemed she didn't want to admit to something, the one she used whenever I had spoken about work or home. I made a guess.

"You're staying at yours aren't you? You live locally." I was rewarded with a guilty blush.

"Let's get her back to your place, don't worry I won't have a clue where I am going, and even if I did, your secret is safe with me." I said, trying to reassure her.

Cheryl looked at me and Sam and back to me again. "No you are alright I can man..." she was interrupted by Sam leaning down and vomiting in my lap. I held her head out of the puddle of warm greasy liquid as she regurgitated the contents of her stomach with easy convulsions. It was obvious her last meal had involved chips and sweetcorn.

Cheryl and I looked at each other without speaking, I imagine I looked as horrified as she did.

"Right, out you three." We turned to the voice, the landlord was stood, pointing at the door. "Now" he shouted.

Cheryl rose and together helped an almost unconscious Samantha to her feet, accompanied by the sound of the contents of my lap falling to the floor. We looked at each other and giggled, as we staggered to the door, a few customers looking at us with disgust.

"I think I can manage now." Cheryl told me, but as soon as I released Sam, she fell to the floor. I helped her up again.

The three of us staggered down the hill toward the sea front and hailed a taxi, we had to promise the driver an extra twenty quid to take us, mercenary bastard.

Brighton itself is only a small part of the metropolis that people living outside Brighton call Brighton. It is a collection of towns that have grown together and merged, each little piece, retaining it's own identity, I found we were heading to Southwick.

All the windows in the cab were open as the smell emanating from my lap was disgusting. We got to our destination in about 15 minutes.

"Cheryl paid the driver as I helped Sam out of the car, she was now awake, but as soon as she was on the street she heaved again. Cheryl opened her door as I struggled with her niece toward the door, as soon as it was open, Cheryl ducked under her other arm and we helped her through the door.

"In there." Cheryl said gesturing toward a door with a nod of her head. I opened the door, it was a toilet, Sam dived to the bowl and heaved again.

"I'll get her some water, then we'll see about getting you cleaned up." Cheryl said and headed through an open door to what was obviously a kitchen, she returned with a glass of water. Sam took it from her with a mumbled "thanks auntie Cher."

Auntie Cher was looking at me with a mischievous smile on her face. "If you aren't going commando, get your kecks off and I will sling them in the washer." I did as she requested and was soon stood in front of her in my boxers, holding out my trousers to her.

"You can go shower in there," she said pointing to a door. "If you pass all your other clothes through the door I'll sling them in the wash too, you will find a towel big enough to retain your modesty" she said with a giggle.

I took her up on her offer and as I showered, I began to worry, Karen would not be happy with this situation, even though it was completely innocent. Wasn't it?

I dried myself off and wrapped myself in a towel. I was glad it was a large bath sheet. I not only wanted to protect my modesty, but my fidelity as well.

When I exited the bathroom, I found Cheryl had got Sam undressed to her bra and panties, as soon as I was out of the way Cheryl led her to the bathroom and closed the door, at least she was walking under her own steam now.

"Go through to the lounge." Cheryl called through the door. "Fix yourself a drink, can you pour me a Glen please."

I found the lounge, over in one corner was an antique table with bottles and glasses on a silver tray. I looked through the selection of spirits, the only Glen I could see was some 21 year old Glen Livit. I poured two glasses. And sat down on a chair.

The room was tastefully decorated, not particularly girly, but definitely not a man's place. I looked around the room from my seat. Then I saw a picture on the sideboard, a picture with two girls, I now knew where I had seen her before. I knew who she was. I decided I was not going to let her know that I knew. She wanted to keep her secrets, and she was entitled to.

I heard them come out of the bathroom. "Stay where you are." Cheryl called out.

I stayed put and was soon joined by my host. She had changed into a Tee shirt and slacks.

"Thanks for all your help," she said. Sorry about, well, everything. Your clothes should be washed and dried in about an hour or so if you need to get away. If you don't, you can crash in my bed."

I must have looked either petrified or shocked, perhaps both. "Oh no. Sorry, I will slip in with Sam. So you don't have to worry, I haven't brought you here to satisfy my carnal desires." she added in a hurry, looking embarrassed.

We had a moment, a long moment of an awkward silence. I mumbled "this Glens nice" with that she drained her glass and took mine and refilled it. I looked at the quantity in the glass and said. "Looks like your bed it is." I smiled as I said it. "Be gentle with me please."

"You wish" she giggled. Then we just started chatting. After that momentary awkwardness, I found her easy to talk to. She was happy to tell me about her life in Brighton and I didn't venture into her previous life. That changed when she started talking about her love life, or lack of it more to the point.

Her lover had died a couple of years ago and in a nutshell, even though it was his dying wish that she find herself someone to be a good companion and look after her, no one could come close.

"To be honest the best option I have is my ex..." She stopped as she realised what she had said and emptied her glass.

I chose to let her keep her secret, I said nothing as she wobbled over to refill her glass.

"You know who he is don't you?" she asked.

"I think I could hazard a guess, but I wasn't going to ask."

"You," she said pointing a finger at me. "You are a good man, I think you could be the one."

"Oh fuck" I thought.

"But you already have someone, and you're about fifteen years too young." she slurred and staggered toward me. She sat on the arm of my chair and leaned against me. "But you'll do for a roll in the hay." and she slide onto my lap and kissed me.

I didn't push her away, but I didn't respond either, when she noticed I wasn't kissing her back she pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she slurred. "Am I past it, too old and ugly for you?"

"Too old, too ugly?" I was incredulous. "How can you say that? If I were single, well I would have been trying to bed you since we met, but I am not single. And you, my lady, are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met." I said trying to reassure her.

"There you go again, you just can't help being nice can you?" she said, tears were beginning to flow.

I held her, my panicking mind sobering up fast.

"It's not about being nice, it's about being truthful and believe me. When I say something, especially when you know I am right, You really are beautiful." I told her, and I meant it too. She snuggled into me, sobbing quietly into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her as I tried to work out an escape plan.

I am not sure how long we sat like that before gentle snore began coming from her. I smiled both with pleasure at the soothing sound, and relief that she now was less likely to make me satisfy her carnal desires, as she had put it earlier.

I heard the washer finish it's cycle, from then on the only sound I could hear was the soothing sound of Cheryl's light snores, I soon joined her in slumber.

When I awoke I could hear someone bustling around in the kitchen. I needed to pee, and as I rose from the chair my body complained. No matter how comfy it is to sit in, sleeping upright in a chair is not good. How long my lap had been vacant I do not know. After I had completed my ablutions I wrapped the towel back around myself and walked into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry." were the first words out of Cheryls mouth.

"No worries." I answered. "Can I get my clothes now?"

She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear.

"Don't worry, we didn't do anything we shouldn't have. You were a perfect gentleman." I said trying to inject a little humour into a difficult situation.

She had a blank expression for a second then I think she remembered last nights events or at least a few more pieces.

"They, they're in the washing machine, s, sorry. I'll tumble them now." she said with embarrassment as she started to transfer my clothes. "You must think I am a terrible woman."

I grabbed her by the shoulders as she stood. "Listen Cheryl, stop running yourself down and stop telling me what I think. I do not think you are a terrible woman, and for the umpteenth time, before you try to tell me again. I do not think you are too old, nor do I think you are the slightest bit ugly."

She looked up to my face and smiled. The tear stains and smudged make up did nothing to reduce her good looks, if anything they added an attractive quirkiness to her.

I felt something brush downwards on my legs, as it passed my knees I heard a scream behind me. I dropped to the floor, clutching for the towel that had chosen that second to abandon my modesty to the wind.

Sam was screaming behind me, Cheryl was laughing in front of me, neither sound was easy on my banging head or my growing embarrassment.

Sam stopped screaming and joined her aunt in laughing at my misfortune, I recovered enough to say.

"Thanks girls, you have no idea how much of an ego boost it is for a man to have two women pissing themselves at him when he is naked." Of course that made them laugh harder.

I wrapped the towel around me again and stood blushing.

"It's the situation not you we're laughing at, numpty. Cheryl said. "Besides from what I just saw your fiancée is going to have no complaints, that's nothing to laugh about at all."

"Auntie, behave." squealed Sam.

"Any chance of a cuppa?" I asked "I have a real case of birdcage mouth."

Sam poured me an orange juice and as she passed it to me she implored. "Tell me I didn't throw up in your lap."

"Okay, you didn't throw up in my lap." I smiled at her.

"Yes you bloody well did." Cheryl said with mock castigation. Then to me. "Milk and sugar?"

"And aspirin, please." I answered, at the same time Sam was saying sorry. "Don't you start." I said to Sam. Are all the women in your family eternally apologetic? Buggar me, everyone is entitled to make a twat of themselves every now and then, even more so when you are pissed. They both hesitantly nodded. I noticed my wallet and phone with a good handful of shrapnel, that's coins to the uneducated, on the side. Cheryl saw me looking and verified it was all mine. I checked my phone, several texts asking where I was from various people, I returned the texts, telling them I was alive and would meet them later if they let me know where they will be.

We drank our tea quietly, our hangovers stifling our attempts at conversation.

"I think we need breakfast." suggested Cheryl, I looked down at my towel. "When you are dressed." she smiled.

I nodded and smiled back. Half hour later we were in Cheryls car heading to a cafe that apparently did a good breakfast.

She drove us into an industrial estate, so I thought we were headed to a greasy Joe type café. I was wrong.

It was an up-market café, by day, Bistro by night. Very clean, and a fairly full dining area.

I ordered myself a full English, my companions had those French puff pastries, croissants. The food wasn't quick in coming, but was worth it when it did.