Valley of Sinners Ch. 07

Monty greeted them at the cattle-stop and raced ahead of them to the house.

"He's hungry," Hope said.

"You go to bed; I'll feed him and give him some company, sitting on the deck while I think. My mind is struggling to take in the vision of my extended task."

It was 1:35 when Hope lay down on her bed and reached for the phone; she'd come to another decision.

She phoned Lisa and after the flurry of greetings Hope said: "Come home as soon as you wish, Lisa. You'll probably need to live in the city but you might like to be home with me here some weekends.

"Are you all right mum -- there's nothing wrong is there?"

"No, I'm fine. Nash and I went to dinner with Neven and Mimi this evening and a full family meeting followed. There was concern about me having a book written principally about my father and me; it was agreed it would be a book about the modern history of the valley and the principal personalities involved in establishing and advancing its wine industry. Nash saw sense in that but insisted it still should be warts and all and after some quick soul-searching I accepted that and now feel happy about it. I would like you to return here for a while to see if you feel your ultimate future is here in this valley. It you decided it is I shall be ever so happy; it you decide to link your future with Nash I shall have no objection."

"Well, what do I say mother?"

"Saying you'll try to be home within three months would be lovely."

"Is Nash committed to staying on to write your book?"

"Yes dear; he seems totally involved and I sense enjoys feeling a connection with this valley."

"That's good. Is he still sleeping in my room?"

"No, he returned to the basement as soon as the heat wave passed."

"Are you or have you had an affair with him?"

"No, I do not have a romantic attachment for him -- that's your department, darling."

"I'm returning to Auckland as soon as possible, mother."

"That makes me very happy."

"Me too."

* * *

The truth was Lisa had been committed to returning soon after arriving back in Sydney but it seemed unnecessary to tell her mother that; better he mother felt Lisa was responding to her call.

She'd enjoyed her short visit to Auckland and had moped for a few days, readjusting to Sydney life without her mother and almost missing her yawing emotions stimulated by being around Nash. She suspected she was interested in more than a one-off sexual encounter with Nash but partly succeeded in blocking such thoughts. After Tim had left her, an advertising executive called Ralph had taken Tim's place. He'd come to Sydney on transfer and Lisa had been assigned by her boss Al to work with him on a multi-station radio advertising promotion for her company. Ralph's partner was still back in Perth finishing her degree in sports medicine.

Ralph had turned out to be better company than Tim, and even assisted in keeping the apartment clean and tidy. But on her return from Auckland Lisa had decided it was time to send him on his way. The opportunity came when she managed to escalate a small tiff into a real shouting match. Ralph had shouted that he felt like clearing out, and she screamed, 'Then don't let me stop you.' And she didn't; later when he attempted to negotiate a return she told him no way, that they'd grown apart.

Then there was Al; it was time to sever that union of convenience. To her relief Al was completely willing to cut out their liaisons in bed, saying that he was beginning to suspect that his wife had suspicions about Lisa. Al said that he and Lisa would remain good mates and that he'd find someone a little less conspicuous to ease his frustrations of being on a drip-fed ration of sex at home (his very words). It didn't take him long; within a week Lisa learned that Al had gone to a seminar in the Blue Mountains in the company of a young woman from his research team -- a nondescript woman with mousy hair whose only attribute seemed to be she moved rather athletic way and had what Lisa would term very succulent lips.

Initially she'd thought about Nash frequently and after ten days realized that she was still thinking of him. Lisa accepted that she was hooked. It seemed so incongruous. Lisa had long held a romantic notion that she'd meet a famous personality, that she'd been swept along in passion and would have a wedding in a crowed cathedral and probably a honeymoon on a luxury launch off the French Riviera. At the very least he'd be the handsome son of a rich and caring couple whose lives she would make complete.

Incredibly, Nash Carson was a Nobody and yet she was neither surprised nor disappointed that his number had come up. Her only concern was would he reciprocate her feelings? What feelings those were she had avoided examining just too closely at present. She stepped up her intensity at work and filled in the big social vacuum by joining a women's tennis group. Most of the group was adrift women like her, which was reassuring. She also enrolled for a course on creative writing.

After three sessions she found the course more satisfying than expected. She simply had thought she'd like to know more about what interested Nash. She was sure he would be very interested in sex, but she was aiming beyond that. Old vehicle restoration was another known interest, but she did not fancy studying that. So she chose writing, not to become a competitor, but simply to expand a common interest between them. She decided to develop a greater interest in cinema when in his company. It did not concern her that such a study to connect might be in vain in nothing eventuated between then; Lisa had long accepted that in life one could not always be a winner.

Lisa composed two letters and several emails to Nash, but sent none of them. She decided he'd have to make the first move, to place a stake in the ground. The two films she's taken with her camera while in New Zealand were developed and she chose one taking early one morning of Nash, shotgun cradled in an arm and Monty with his front feet propped against Nash's hip, looking right at the camera as Lisa. Rows of green grape vines filled the background.

Lisa took that transparency to Simon in the company's office specializing in placing people into advertising vacancies, which was part of a sub-section under her management.

"Who's this lucky bastard," Simon had chuckled when Lisa asked him if he could get someone to run out a six foot high wall poster (for her bedroom).

"Oh, just a fellow I came across when in New Zealand recently."

"You shagged him half to death, I would imagine?"

"Simon, it's unhealthy for you having an imagination like that," said Lisa, slapping him on the butt. "If we get billed for it, send the invoice to me. Thanks pal."

Later she received that casual phone call from Nash, One moment he had her fluttering like a boy-crazy teenager and the next she was crying like a jilted lover. It astounded her that he was sleeping in her room, only an invitation away from her mother's bed. Her mother knew she had feelings for Nash though not yet having been described as love.

Within a few minutes of terminating the call with Nash she was talking to her mother, asking why Nash was sleeping in her room. The answer was plausible, they were experiencing a hot spell and her room with its air flow was much cooler that the basement with its concrete walls at night radiating stored heat from the day's sunshine in its concrete walls for hours.

Lisa had cried and said she thought she had fallen in love with Nash. Rather that expressed dismay, her mother had been comforting to her, saying that it was all right to feel beholden to someone who'd practically saved her life. It would pass, her mother had said, and then she'd find a new man worthy of her affection.

"I don't want a new man, I want Nash."

"That feeling will pass, dear; believe me. Your task is to find a suitable male of the marrying kind."

Lisa had cried she wanted to come home but her mother had cautioned her against acting too quickly and perhaps irrationally. Give it a few more weeks to settle, she advised.

Three weeks later Lisa went to see Al, asking, "How's the post-natal depression at home?"

"Actually easing, my ration has increased in the past month."

"Good for you. I want a good posting back in the Auckland office. Can you fix it?"

"Yes, but you should stay here. Your chances of promotion are excellent, even on an international basis if that's your desire."

"No, but a promotion to Auckland would be great. A reward for me being so loving to you."

Al grinned. "You were, very loving. But Lisa I'll try to get you a good job back in the Auckland office based on your business merit. I foresee no problem as vacancies occur frequently."

"Right, thanks pal," she said, blowing him a kiss.

Two hours later, she received an email from Al. It read: 'Barrie my old mate says he remembers you. The manager of their retail division wants a London postings and Barrie had been deferring that until lining up a replacement. The job is yours if you want it. He's offering 15k more in Kiwi dollars than you receive now plus a 1.5 grading increase. You'd be a fool to turn him down. Contact details for Barrie follow.'

Lisa immediately sent her request to be considered for the position along with electronic copies of her photo, CV and resume of her work experience in Sydney. The next morning she received the formal job offer and accepted. Al said she could leave in three weeks.

Incredibly, an hour later her mother phoned inviting her to return home. Lisa played it cool, not saying that she'd already made her decision to evacuate Sydney; she had no wish to deflate her mother's loving overture of seeking her daughter's return home.

Emerging from Customs at Auckland International Airport Lisa pushed her loaded trolley scanning the small crowd looking for her mother and Nash. A familiar shriek turned her gaze in the right direction and she saw her mother, but no Nash. Lisa hid her disappointment and provided the big emotional greeting she knew her mother expected.

Hope was wearing a mottled blue dress and had her blonde hair in a French roll. She wept copiously, and Lisa was not left dry-eyed herself. Her mother looked gorgeous, so she told her, Hope's tears turning to huge smiles.

"Is this everything?" Hope asked in surprise, looking at half-loaded trolley.

"Good gracious no, the rest of my things are coming on a freight flight. They will come to your place by delivery truck."

"Well then, are you ready to go?"

"Yes mum."

Hope pulled out her phone, dialed and said that they are walking out to pick up zone.

"Is he here," Lisa asked excitedly.

"Yes, being a brilliant day we came in the Chevy. This way we get picked up just outside the door rather than having to walk through acres of car park. Take it slowly, Lisa -- he doesn't know why you have come home."

Although burning with desire, Lisa kept in check. Nash raced around the tray of the pick-up, hugging her and then kissing her on the cheek just like a long separated brother would. But he read her body language -- probably feeling her trembling -- because he pushed her back in his arms, looked into her eyes and then gently pulled her closer and kissed her, long and deeply.

"Come on you two," Hope laughed easily. "This is a restricted stopping zone. Let's go."

It was a ride home Lisa would long remember, seated tightly between her loving mother and her loving man. She'd only attended three night sessions of her creative writing course but she knew she could write the ending herself -- a very happy ending to her homecoming.

Regrettably, that was not to be.

* * *

Nash was grateful that Hope had yielded, allowing a more expansive history to be written. It would mean a longer and probably more intensive involvement for him -- the promise of being longer in paid work as well. But those factors were not dominating his mind. He felt the shackles had been removed; he now had a complete story to relate.

Confident that he possessed the ability to do the required level of research and that his interviewing technique had improved markedly, Nash's only doubt was in his own ability as an author. Aware that some people had been one-publication best-seller authors, he accepted there was some hope for him. He'd written two trial chapters, and was pleased with the results. He was tempted to show them to Hope but for sure she'd want him to output more, bending him from the present mission which was to build his database of information.

After lunch on Sunday, Hope and Nash went to golf in the Rover, with Nash's borrowed set of clubs in the boot; Hope kept her equipment at the clubhouse. Nash squirmed, recalling what had happened when he went to pick up the clubs he would use two weeks ago as he'd wanted to practice on the driving range.

He'd called to ensure that Maggie would be home and she was in the pool when he arrived at 11:00.

"Come join me!"

"Haven't any swimming shorts."

"Wear your underpants -- you do wear them?"

Hesitation for two seconds, Nash complied: he knew Alayna was at work and Basil was at the back of the farm supervising haymaking.

Maggie kept her distance for almost five minutes after the greeting kiss. Just when he was starting to relax she moved behind him, thrust her hand into the front of his underpants and said huskily, "Oh my, what have we here?"

"Go away Maggie."

Of course she turned deaf and what she had in her hand grew and she pushed his underpants to his ankles. Well he sighed, just the once, knowing he'd been thinking about that cunt of hers ever since Alanya has said her mother had a reputation for being a great lay. That's something one doesn't expect to hear from a daughter.

Maggie towed him to the shallow end of the pool and he jumped up on to the side, sitting with his feet dangling in the water. He didn't have the courage to run. She went to work enthusiastically, licking and sucking and not worried about the disgusting noise she was making, swishing her dark hair back over her shoulders so she could keep an eye on the job. Eventually Nash sighed and kept her air under control, allowing Maggie to fondle him with both hands and also to stare at him intently at times. Finally she fired him and they watched the splatter streak and spot her left breast -- a very sizeable rounded mass that was surprisingly firm highlighted by fat very pink nipples.

Maggie then sucked up some of the deposit and opening her mouth to show him her coated tongue deliberately swallowed, staring at him while she massaged what was left over both breasts.

"How was that?"

"Lovely," he said.

"Have you wondered about fucking me?"

He shrugged and knew be her triumphant smile she knew he was lying.

"Come on, out of the pool. I'm ready as I had release when you did -- I go off rather easily but am a multiple lady."

She proved that she was. They just had a continuous rut in Missionary with Maggie groaning into orgasm five times to his one and then four times to his tumultuous second when she was bellowing and squeezing him to distraction until he came, feeling his eyes were about to pop. He felt, as they say, completely fucked. She'd brought him to a peak more times than he could remember and then would ease off and as his ragged breathing eased would gently begin pushing back at him all over again.

It hadn't been a class act because there'd been little emotion between them; in fact she only kissed him when he kissed her. She acted as if she were in the kitchen cooking. But she was a fine cook. He staggered off to shower with Maggie returning to the pool and shouting, "Nice ass!" That was the encounter Nash had indicated with one finger in the air recently when Hope had been asking in an easy, relaxed manner, which of the women she knew had he seduced,.

Before collecting the clubs from the garage, Nash had returned to the pool to say goodbye. Maggie swam to the side actually seeking a kiss.

"How was I?" she asked.

"A great shag -- very noisy, but great."

"Part two when you return the clubs?"

He'd smiled but didn't answer. She looked a little disappointed.

"You're quiet, what are you thinking?" Hope asked they neared the village and turned into Sparrow Road to head for the golf course less than a half a mile away.

"What causes a woman to wander?"

"Oh yes, and what's brought this one."

"Er -- I was thinking about Ana Bronkovic.

"Well that one's easy -- at that stage Drago was working two shifts, six days a week and he was a rather arrogant cuss, expected to be waited on hand and foot. Next?"

"Next what?"

"The next wandering woman you wished to know about. I will probably have a fair idea if she is local."

"No, I was only thinking about, um, Ana."

"Oh, you disappoint me. Never mind, we're almost at the course. We should have a very enjoyable day as this thick overcast will keep out the sun until it lifts at the end of the day."

"Yeah, right."

It was the sort of partnered match that Nash enjoyed -- he and Maggie won the first, lost the second, lost the third, squared the fourth and won the fifth. And so it continued.

The foursome arrived on seventeenth, a par five, all square. Nash wanted Neven and Hope to win the match to allow Neven to feel slightly superior for the possibly benefit of Nash when interviewing Neven about history, but he's undecided about whether to throw the game.

Neven's drive went of bounds and playing out of the greenside bunker very slowly and carefully Hope caught the ball again with her sand iron in the follow through -- that counted as two shots as she'd hit the ball twice. Nash was less than seven feet from the hole for two, thanks to an accurate second with a three-wood off the fairway which got a huge amount of summer run. Nash knew he must sink the putt for one or two strokes to avoid being ridiculed and did so for two, scoring his fourth birdie of the day.

They reached the short final hole and were the last players to finish in the competition. Most of the field was already in the clubhouse with its fine view over the par-3 eighteenth. Nash spotted Alayna and Basil, who were joining them for drinks and dinner, waiting by the green with Mimi and Eloise.

Hope teed off first, just making the green, the centre of which was 157 yards away, but the ball rolled back off the sloping green into a small grass depression -- perhaps for an uphill chip and hopefully one putt to finish. Big Neven played a crisp and towering 9-iron that finished some four feet above the hole. Maggie fell off her five-wood and her ball finished 20-plus yards to the left of the green, with the deepest bunker between her and the pin. So she appeared out of it Nash whacked an 8-iron to land six feet beyond Neven, exactly where he'd targeted his ball to stop.

It was possible Hope would get down in three, and Neven almost certainly would get his three. Nash sighed, thinking it had been a good match -- they'll finish tied for a perfect result. Maggie had played very well, so she and he had a chance taking a minor placing. But it turned out much more exciting than that. Maggie won the women's best net by a stroke, because her pitch shot hot near the base of the pin and jammed between the slightly leaning pin and the edge of the cup. As soon as the pin was touched the ball fell into the hole for a two, which earned her six golf balls in the women's division. She and Nash won the competition trophy by returning the lowest combined net score.

After striking the pin had Maggie raised her club in the air to acknowledge members inside the clubhouse thumping on the windows, the piercing whistle from Basil and the shrieked "Good one, mum" from Alayna. Neven looked browned off but kissed Maggie and gave her a big smile when removing her ball from the cup as Maggie said to him, "I really wasn't all that surprised as I said to myself, Girl -- you can do it!"