Freeing Kirsty Ch. 09

"We'll be at the squadron for drinks at eight on Saturday evening. Bring along someone who likes going to be early for me, will you?"

"Thanks, you're a darling Merrick. Oh -- what's his surname?"

"Raymond."

"What -- is he related to Alec Raymond." "Son."

"But Alec's got a son of that age, Stan."

"They're twins."

"I don't believe it -- anyway, Stan's a blond."

"He wasn't when I first knew him."

"Oh. Goodbye, sweetie."

Brian was as nervous as a schoolboy on his first date at the squadron on Friday night. There had been a major briefing at 6:30 on a long race around the inner gulf over the next two days, so the clubhouse was packed and very noisy and the liquor had flowed freely after the hour-long briefing.

Merrick had happily dealt with a barrage of questions from Brian, including:

"What is she REALLY like?"

"Should I bring flowers?"

"When should I make the first move or doesn't she kiss on first dates?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"Does she know that I am a senior medical registrar?"

It is necessary to realize that this was some eight months before Brian met Marg. Marg was also 'a daughter of the squadron' as parents with nubile daughters fondly referred to their offspring, well aware that it was socially significant to have a romance within the squadron blossom into a marriage with the wedding breakfast held at the squadron's facilities.

Marg's father sailed his boat rather successfully in fact and she'd been sailing regularly since eight weeks after her birth.

Merrick was getting Pru Kettle, one of Rosa's hangers-on primed on vodka. He saw Rosa lean forward a whisper something into Brian's ear, and Brian jumped as if he'd been shot.

Grinning, Merrick knew what she would have said: "Would you like to fuck me tonight." Rosa loved to shock and make her dates horny. He also knew what Brian would be thinking, while shaking his head, unable to believe what he's just heard: No woman -- at least no women in the free world -- speaks like that!

Welcome to the real world, Brian!

Brian reported to Merrick next day that he'd gone to bed with Rosa -- in her bedroom in fact.

"She was all over me, and panting like a dog most of the time. It was eerie. She seemed determined to exhaust me, but I reckon by the time we collapsed into sleep it was a dead heat."

"That's something. So she does kiss on the first date?"

"Merrick!"

"Just kidding. So, she's the best one ever."

"Surprisingly, no, I couldn't say that."

"Well, don't tell anyone that, you'll ruin her reputation and that's not a gentlemanly thing to do."

So, after all this time, Merrick thought, Brian would come face to face with one of the few women in his life who'd desired him -- Rosa, the woman with the fabulously sexy walk. He wondered how Brian would handle the situation.

Actually, Brian only appeared awkward in difficult situations involving personal relationships. He coped quite well, really. He'd not shied away from Rosa, had he? And once he realized that Marg was something special he'd pursued her relentlessly.

Oh Marg. Now she'd created an interesting situation. Brian was aware that at long last she'd accepted that she had an interest in Merrick and was now virtually socially stalking him. He smiled. Brian must surely be aware that Merrick was darting about between people trying to keep a reasonable distance between Marg and himself. Hell, she was determined. Twice he'd gone in to get more wine and beer and became aware that Marg had followed him apparently to try to either talk to him or to corner him.

Merrick had made his escape through the back door, thinking that really it was time Brian had a good talk with Marg. He was sure that Brian had not been serious when saying one of Merrick's alternatives was to 'give Marg what she wants'. Anyway, Merrick was damn sure sex was only part of Marg's pursuit -- she wanted to possess him. Clearly she needed expert counseling.

"Brian -- Brian Raymond," oozed Tim Theissen, art critic and restaurant reviewer for high class tourist publications nationally and internationally and a regular contributor to websites featuring New Zealand tourism. They had been at school together and then at university until Brian went on to med school.

"Tim you old dog, greeted Brian. "You don't look a day over twenty."

Brian bit his tongue after saying that, because the woman beside Tim was Rosa, looking decidedly middle aged.

"Nice to see you again, Rosa," said Brian, kissing the hand held out to him.

She coughed, then said: "Another cigarette please, dear Tim."

Merrick, listening to all this, then welcomed them. He knew Tim, having taken photographs for him over the years. Tim was genuinely pleased to see him again and congratulated him on his marriage.

"The invitation said No Presents, but there's a bottle of fine scotch on the kitchen bench for you and a bone china coffee set for your good lady. Where is she, by the way?"

"Come, I'll take you to her. Hullo, Rosa. Nice to see you again."

"Hullo, Merrick. Nice to see you too." She didn't hold out her hand to be kissed, in fact all she did was to blow smoke over him.

Later when Merrick and Brian were, pouring cups of coffee -- the weary 'French Maids' had been sent home more than an hour earlier -- Brian said: Rosa has deteriorated massively. How can that be?"

"You're the doctor mate, but my guess in an addiction to sex, late nights, drugs and good food."

"Yeah, I'm the one who should say that. If I ever shag another woman not Marg, she's going to be pure and wholesome."

"Then I wouldn't bet on getting another extra-marital shag, mate. However, although difficult to find they are around; just make sure they are at least eighteen years of age!"

They cackled over that, both being quite intoxicated.

"You better stay the night -- you're pissed," said Merrick.

"What, and risk having Marg getting into bed between you and Kirsty -- no way, mate."

They laughed over that one and slapped each other on the back like old cronies.

Just before 11:00 there was a lovely interlude for Merrick. He and Brian were watching Marg trying to put Avon down again; she'd woken and cried herself into a really paddy before drawing attention to herself. After being comforted and changed, she remained restless and after only a few sucks refused to take any more bottle. Marg then noticed Avon's fixation. Without a word she handed Avon to Uncle Merrick and then passed the bottle. Without two or three minutes Avon was asleep.

"You are useful to have around even though you continue to ignore me," Marg said with unaccustomed frankness in Brian's presence. "But thank you -- that was much appreciated.

She walked away with Avon to the bedroom. Merrick and Brian looked at each other and smacked a hand together, grinning -- an act of deep friendship.

"She's a sweet kid," Merrick said, thinking of Avon.

"They're both sweet," Brian said levelly, with Merrick repeating that after him.

He then frowned. "Marg is getting worse. She's never been that open about it before."

Brian considered his reply. "That's true, but even so she has it under control; it's not passionate, just a yearning to be attached to you, I believe, that's why it is necessary for you to stay near her. Perhaps you should not try so hard to distance yourself when she is around. Obviously she interprets that as rejection. She'll grow out of this fixation, I'm sure of that, Merrick."

"Well, if you're confident that nothing bad will come out of it -- I do love her, as you know, although not in a wanton sense."

"I know, Merrick, and I also know that you'd like me to sit her down and talk sternly to her about it; but in my opinion that it likely to achieve very little, except perhaps to drive her feelings into concealment. She's a naturally open personality and I have no wish to blight her very being. It's just something we must accept.

"We will stay the night if the offer is still open."

"Great, Stan is taking us out sailing at noon tomorrow so you will be able to join us, I'll let him know."

"But..."

"You can borrow suitable gear from us -- Marg and Kirsty frequently swap clothing. It's time little Avon began to get her sea legs."

"Right, sounds great. Marg is forever pestering me to get a keel boat so we can assume we have her approval."

Later in the night -- actually it was early morning -- Sam Fallon phoned from Los Angeles, and asked Merrick to bring Kirsty to the phone for a four-way conversation through the speaker phones.

"What are you guys doing today?" asked Sam. "Out in your garden?"

"It's almost an hour past midnight here, daddy," Kirsty said. "We've got a few friends around for a post-wedding celebration."

"That's lovely darling, really lovely," Bess said. "I told the stubborn fool to check the time difference but he declared that if he phoned about this time it would be alright."

"It doesn't matter, mum; is everything all right."

"We want keep you away from your guests," Sam said, "But we're so excited we just have to talk you. Bess and I have created an investment trust -- ultimately you and your family will be the beneficiaries. All we ask is that you pop across to see us occasionally when we become house-bound through old age."

"Okay, we promise that; your action is very generous," Merrick said.

"Yes, absolutely, but I don't see the urgency," Kirsty said, sounding very serious. "Are you certain nothing's wrong, that you're not holding back on me?"

"Of course nothing's wrong with us," Sam snorted. "But we've settled into a groove here and have become excited about this grandchild we are going to get in a few months. So we just reflected on things and decided to get everything adjusted to our satisfaction for the next stage of our life."

"Next stage?"

"Old age, Kirsty. It comes to us all," said her mother.

"I don't like hearing this," Kirsty said, sniffing.

"Look you guys," Merrick said. "Don't let time slip by -- commit. Come here next month and let us show New Zealand."

"Ooh, that would be nice, but I don't really know if we want to do that," ventured Sam.

"It's a long way to go," said Bess.

Merrick jumped in saying rubbish; they would go to sleep on the late flight and wake up and be perhaps only two hours out from landing at Auckland Airport.

"Do come, mum and dad; you're fit and you'll enjoy it. I remember you both telling me that the best things in life are beyond your fingertips -- and that's what New Zealand is -- come and tour my new homeland."

"Your new homeland," Bess said sadly. "You've never made such an absolute statement like that until now, dear."

"Right -- so come and visit us. You'll see whey I have committed. When you get into the deep south of the South Island you'll meet oodles of Americans who have relocated and are now utterly committed.

"You do sound so utterly decided, Kirsty," Bess said. "I'll have to think about it."

"Go buy your ticket and come, mother! Don't vacillate -- and come if dad won't."

"Well I don't know -- I like keeping myself busy, you know."

"Sam, there are golf course galore here and trout so big that the boat sinks when you bring them aboard," Merrick enthused. "You can get them in lakes or off the banks of fast-flowing clear-water streams with often nobody around for miles -- just you and the fish."

"And sea fishing?"

"Yes -- even game fishing if you wish."

"Shooting?"

"Yes -- what would you like: clay target shooting or going after pig, or goats or deer?"

"We're coming."

When the call ended Kirsty looked at Merrick, joy on her face. "They have to see where we live; it's important to me," she said, running her fingers gently down the side of his face.

"Remember this moment, dear on. We'll never experience another like it."

Merrick was perhaps aware that was an exaggeration. Although Sam put off their visit until Christmas, Kirsty and Merrick experienced an unbelievable moment of joy when seven months later their child -- a boy -- wailed into life under the expert hands of an obstetrician.

"Three weeks early, but as far as we can determine, he's a bonny wee laddie," they were told.

Exhausted but profoundly happy, Kirsty looked at the wrinkled old man's face in the wrapping in her hands, a nurse standing by ready to carry the babe to the special facility for the new born -- the nursery.

"Isn't he beautiful," Kirsty sighed, looking beyond the babe's wrinkles.

That, Merrick thought, was absurd; the little monkey-faced bundle in Kirsty's arms was not at all representative of beauty. If there was any relationship it would be to a gnome. However, it was undeniable: he felt a touch a kinsmanship.

Merrick grinned. His mother, caught unawares, was in the far north on a garden tour and Kirsty's parents were not due for another three weeks. Perhaps when the grandparents were gathered the little guy would have lost his monkey-like appearance and would be like one of those babies one sees in nappy advertisements.

Kirsty drifted off to sleep. The nurse stepped forward ready to take charge of baby Jamieson.

"Five more minutes," Merrick requested.

The nurse hesitated, looking at his ruggedly handsome face but it was the piercing eyes that melted her resolve but there were procedures to follow.

"Five more minutes please, dear one."

Merrick had said that quietly, no plea in his tone. The young nurse simply picked up the bundled baby and handed him to Merrick and then retreated holding up five fingers to indicate Merrick was on count down.

Standing in almost darkness of the dimly lit room, just before midnight, Merrick looked at the old man features of his third child. Christ, if he'd been forced down that narrow opening under pressure he'd look not better. He began talking to his new son, telling him about his mother, his father and grandparents.

The nurse returned to claim her charge.

The eyes of the baby opened and Merrick looked into them deeply and imagined he saw intelligence and profound understanding. It could take it for granted, because of the parentage, that the baby would grow into a likeable personality of strong character. Well, Kirsty certainly was, and surely he was as well.

"Welcome to the world, Ricky," he said. "I promise to dedicate to grooming you to become a fine young man.

Merrick felt almost fulfilled. All he wanted was for Bella to come home. He knew she would -- she'd want to be with her new half-brother. And if she could not break down her mother's resistance, then Merrick had a secret weapon on hand -- Marg. She could exert influence over Kate better than anyone on the planet. In Los Angeles Merrick had secretly met with all three grandparents and all agreed they would support what Bella wanted.

At 3:00 am Merrick was woken by the phone ringing. It was Marg.

"Congratulations, we're so excited for you and Kirsty. What wonderful news. We've just home from a medical ball and two calls -- two unbelievable calls were waiting for us.

"One was from you, announcing the arrival of Ricky. The other was from Kate, sounding as if she's in a real mess. Bella has told her she wants to come home, to be with you and Kirsty."

Kate said Bella had made the announcement and then refused to debate it. Kate wanted Marg's advice.

"I'll try to get on a flight tomorrow," said Marg. "I'm afraid Kate's going to lose this one. Bella says she wants to be home for Christmas."

When the call ended, Merrick closed his eyes and tears squeezed through: he felt he was a may who now had everything.

THE END