A Fantasy about Love Pt. 14

On Monday we started our sessions in NSW and a surprising number of truckers wanted to join us, even realizing the conditions of admittance. We had advised a clinic about the necessity of a big bunch of tests and they were prepared. Some wanted to leave, and we had the lawyer calculating the final payments. There were some unpleasant moments with threats of union action, but we invited them to go ahead and called the next employee.

I knew that we would have serious problems with staff over the dismissals and the drug testing, but we were ready to take them on. It was exhausting and I had to accept a few exceptions looking at the personal problems our rules would cause, but there was always a counterweight: if we conceded something, the other had also to give way. At night we had a bottle of good Pinot Noir and fell into bed; Maureen was probably asleep before she closed her eyes. Jenny smiled and offered to step in for Maureen in local rules obedience; I accepted and made love to her breasts.

The next day Eileen arrived at night, but she was exhausted; there were only a few kisses on strategically important places (woof, woof!) and even in the morning she slept late. She was disappointed when she woke up; her opportunity to be properly greeted had passed, but she knew that in München she would be compensated. Jenny left to stay with Mr. Simpson for the morning, but she would be back to say goodbye since our flight was in the early afternoon. Maureen and Eileen had to pick up Maureen's dress, make final arrangements, close the luggage cases (I had not known that there were such big cases) have lunch and off we would be to Germany to join the nobility (superior half) for the famous ball. We would pass Ellen to say goodbye and then we would have to endure the long, long flight.

They came back just in time to eat a sandwich, Jenny arrived to greet Eileen, and then the driver took us first to see Ellen; the other car with the luggage went directly to the airport. She was visibly tired and even Eileen was worried, but she used her charm to be pleasant and wished her a speedy recovery. This was nonsense: there was no speedy recovery and the only question was how long she could endure. We offered once more to stay, but again she insisted: this was Maureen's wish and she would still be here when we came back.

"Enjoy the trip and the ball, my daughter, and don't listen to James: if for you it's a crown, it's a crown."

Eileen looked up when she said 'daughter', but Ellen looked straight at her. "Eileen, Maureen and Jenny are as much my daughters as Maureen is yours. They've given me so much love that I cannot feel anything else, and I'm very happy to have them around me."

She stared at Eileen and finally Eileen looked down, nodding.

There was an uncomfortable moment and I tried to defuse it.

"Ellen, and where do I fit in your scale? Maureen's husband? Jenny's friend? German acquaintance?" She tried to laugh, but started coughing; when she stopped, she asked me to come to her side. I knelt beside her and she looked into my eyes.

"James, you are the son I never had. God bless you for everything you have brought to me: life, joy, two daughters, and the will to never give up. Without you, I don't know where I would be today; since the beginning, you were always there for me and for Allan. So you are not just a German acquaintance, you are the son I love."

She pulled my head down to her and kissed me on my forehead. "Come back safe and sound, son."

There was a moment of silence and I swallowed any response; what could I have said after her words? A tear threatened to leave my eye, but I was a German, and on top of this a Prussian German, and I was told in numerous times that German boys and men don't cry. I just kissed her back and promised. "I will."

She called Maureen and Jenny and kissed them, too, and then said goodbye to Eileen, wishing her a pleasant stay in Germany. There was respect, but no love lost between the two. Allan was a bit more exuberant, hugging me, kissing Maureen and Jenny, and even dared to give Eileen a peck on her cheek. She liked it and looked back at Ellen with a little smile, sending a message that her husband was still interested. I knew that one day I would have to step on her.

Singapore Airlines had a first-class Lounge and there was a small problem when they tried to shuttle us to the Business Lounge; Jenny stepped forward and the problem was resolved within seconds, with apologies added and we were upgraded to first. She had learned a lot, especially to be secure and I knew as soon as I was not given what she thought was mine, she battled - and won.

There were some tears in her eyes when I said goodbye, but I promised that the next trip would be hers. A long hug with Maureen and she had to promise that she would look after me and to call her immediately if anything went wrong. A final kiss and a little hug with Eileen, and we walked away to the Lounge. I hated saying goodbye in an airport and she knew this.

I was wondering what was ahead for us: the big event of the German nobility from which my family had been absent for a long time, the introduction of the Red Countess from down under, and principally how the rich and beautiful widow would be adored in the middle of titled and charming men. They would run against an Eileen who had not for nothing conquered her position in this world. It would be fun to watch, however!

VII: A Long and Lasting Finish

Chapter 52: Der Hochadelsball

The Lounge was classy, with Dom Perignon and whatever one wished for, and when we were called to the airplane, I told Maureen to forget NT, NSW and all the other business and look forward to the ball and the trip we would make in Germany. I wanted to drive into to the Alps (the Trapp family came to mind) and stay a day or two in Salzburg and Vienna (see the Spanische Reitschule with its Lipizzaners), eventually go to Prague and then drive slowly back to Munich and enter business life again.

The stewardess receiving us must have been Miss Singapore in her previous life: beautiful, tall and exquisite. She greeted us by name and showed us to our seats: forgive me, to our seats and Eileen's cabin. They were rather comfortable, and a glass of champagne waited for us. A hot towel was served by another beautiful stewardess and Maureen´s elbow ended up in my side.

"Don't stare, James! Isn't it enough to have three beautiful women at your disposal?"

I shrugged. "My love, I always believed that the female part of our species is more beautiful than the male one, and these two are an outstanding proof, I believe. But you know that there's a difference between admiration and lust - do you remember what your mother said when I saw her topless for the first time? She saw admiration and not lust and accepted it gracefully. This is the same situation!"

Maureen started to grin. "Do you want to see them topless, too?"

I had learned through bitter experience, that if one falls into a hole of one's own making, it is recommendable not to dig it deeper. I leaned over and kissed her, and she nodded.

"I know you, James. You'll look occasionally, but you'll never touch. You'll never find anyone better for you than me or Jenny: keep this in mind." I wondered why she didn't mention Eileen; was she also getting wearied about the continuing lapses in her behavior? The explosions and the certainty that a late apology was sufficient to make up for whatever had happened? One day there might be an explosion too much! And what then? But that was a problem we would resolve later.

She glanced at me and told me to relax also; I nodded and sipped my champagne. The plane took off and after a while, the seatbelt signs were turned off. We went and visited Eileen in her cabin. It was strange to knock on a door in an airplane and enter a little suite. The seat seemed to be very comfortable and obviously could extend into a bed; there was a smallish table with a chair attached and wide enough for two to work or eat, and there was a tiny shower in the corner; I would probably fit in with some calisthenics, but anyone over 200 pounds would have a problem. The decoration was austere and with pastel colors and very tasteful.

She had changed already into loose blouse and soft trousers and invited us to drink her champagne; she was satisfied as it was better than the Perignon: it was Crystal, the former Czar's favorite drink. There was a knock on the door and the stewardess (another one and as beautiful) handed us the menu. There were the obligatory caviar and Lobster Thermidor, but they also included a Wagyu steak and a Thai curry. The wines were outstanding and from all regions of the world: A Riggs Shiraz from South Australia, a Riesling and a Chardonnay from the States, a Saint-Emilion Grand Cru, and a Coup de Foudre Cabernet Sauvignon, and a 2000 Warre Vintage Port to finish. It would keep us happy during the flight. Unfortunately, the cabin was too small to have dinner together so we had a long conversation about our plans for NT and then what we would do in Germany.

When dinner was served, we returned to our seats. It was excellent and the wines matched well the food. I always had thought when flying that at this altitude the wines tasted different, but perhaps the better quality could stand the flight. After dinner, we went back to Eileen and it seemed that she had enjoyed her wines also. We had a few more glasses of the vintage port and everyone was relaxed. Eileen was getting nervous and Maureen asked: "Mom, what is happening? Are you well?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "Do you know how much time I have been alone? Maureen, can I borrow James for a time?"

This was strange and I started to change the subject when Maureen surprised me. "Mom, I've to finish my financial statements for the last three months and then I've to go through the HAY presentation. This is boring stuff; why don't you and James spend your time on more pleasurable matters?"

I did not expect this, but I trusted Maureen; she always knew what she was doing. She got up and went back to her seat, but not without saying: "I recommend that you keep the door locked!"

Eileen looked at me and opened her arms. "James, I missed you. Come and love me!" She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and presented her breasts, already waiting to be touched.

"These puppies have been lonely, dear. Tell them that you still love them!"

I went forward, kissed the tips and she sighed. "It has been a long time, my love!" and opened my shirt and lay her head on my shoulder. "Darling, I need you!"

Kissing me, she led my hand to her pussy. "Do you feel how wet it is? It has been waiting for you!"

This was not the way I wanted to make love, but slowly she got me into the right mood: she knew what she was doing and how to do it. When we had finished, she grinned. "Now I know why I paid the ridiculous price for the cabin - I have been introduced to the Mile-High Club! Thank you, James."

She cleaned us carefully, but I still had a tight shower, just for the fun of it; who could claim that he had a shower in an airplane that was flying at 34,000 feet? Eileen sniffed and perceived that our lovemaking had left a telling smell in the cabin, but she had the solution: grinning, she emptied a glass full of port wine on the floor. She wiped it off immediately, but the smell of the wine was strong, overpowering the smell of lovemaking. She smiled, proud of her cleverness and told me that now she could sleep. Another kiss and I went back to my seat.

Maureen was waiting for me. "Maureen, what was this about? I'm not a person that can be told to make love on command, even by you! I did it in the end, because I trust you, but please tell why I did this!"

She looked at me. "James, my love, I know Mom and she was busting with stress. She had been alone in Brisbane, you had your days with Jenny, and Ellen visibly doesn't trust her. She was tight as a string, darling, and I admit I used you. Please forgive me, but now we can start our trip without having to worry about Mom and her moods. Now, she's satisfied and happy and we'll be, too. Forgive me, darling, but I wanted to have stress free days ahead."

I was not certain that this was the right way to calm Eileen down; I must admit it was enjoyable, but I did not like it. Maureen saw my face. "My love, I'll make it up to you, I promise. You know that Mom is fragile, but now she - and we - can endure the next days without worrying all the time."

I shrugged. "As I said, I trust you, but please don't repeat it."

She nodded and leaned over to kiss me. I took out a book: typical airport literature with the hero being battled from all sides, but in the end, he saves the world and gets the girl. Maureen could not stand these books, as they were empty for her. I agreed, but previously I had been flying too often on my own and this passed the time on a plane. She finished her work and closed her eyes.

We arrived in Singapore and had to wait for over two hours for the connecting flight.

The new Lounge was fabulous: Krug and Veuve Cliquot champagne, French, Australian and European wines, and hot food. It seems that they were prepared for Eileen: a waiter appeared with a bottle of Crystal. We had eaten a light breakfast before landing and only tasted the starters. Good, as all the rest. We walked through the shopping area and both bought perfumes, a Boucheron for me, and Opium, Balenciaga and Celui for them.

When we were called to re-enter the plane, there was a little cart waiting for Eileen, so that she did not have to walk the few hundred yards! She enjoyed the attention. It was starting to clear outside and when the plane left, the sun was just coming up. This flight was only for six hours, an improvement against the 14 hours we spent coming to Singapore. When we were in the air, Eileen looked at Maureen.

"Darling, do you want to enjoy my cabin for a while?" She turned to me. "It was fun, wasn't it, dear?"

I nodded, but was satisfied when Maureen declined the invitation. "Well, then I'll sleep a bit more. Goodnight, darlings!" and she closed the door behind her. We looked at each other; where had the Eileen of only a few months past had gone?

After a while, there was breakfast (again) and we arrived in Munich. The driver was waiting, and he took us to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in the center of the town. Eileen had reserved the principal Suite: a dramatic main bedroom and a smaller, also refined version as a second room. Two steps led up to the main bedroom, a big round room with a huge bed in the middle and a yellow-golden round carpet under the bed. The decoration was modern oriental, low furniture, and high technology. There was even a Bang & Olufsen sound system in every room! The living room was spacious enough to hold a party, and Maureen looked at the bathrooms: marble all over the place and very roomy. This was high-end luxury and I saw Eileen's face relax: she was satisfied.

I tipped the guy who had transported all our luggage to the suite and went to the bar. There were single malts, Armagnac, Bourbon, and German red and white wines. They all wanted a drink and I served them the Macallan and took an Armagnac XO myself, completely forgetting the early morning, since for our bodies it was still about midnight. I wondered how they would charge the drinks at the end, but was afraid that to my dismay, I would find out at the end of our stay. The ladies sent their dresses for ironing and we went for a walk.

The weather was brisk and sunny. Maureen was in one of her little summer green dresses, and Eileen had selected white blouse and tan slacks. I was in black jeans and a white polo shirt. The Marienplatz was close by and it was interesting for me to see the city again, and at 10 o'clock the figures on top of the Rathaus spun around in their traditional dances. The central square was crowded, with local people hurrying around and tourist starting their shopping sprees. Eileen had received recommendations from friends and led us to the Oberpollinger Kaufhaus, a mall where all the famous brands were represented. The ground floor was already crowded, and Maureen had pity with me.

"My love, I saw that there's a coffee shop on the top floor; why don't you get yourself a newspaper, order a coffee and a cake, and wait for us." She had already inserted the local mobile phone chips into our phone and communication was easy.

I had time to read the whole edition of the Süddeutsche Zeitung, when the ladies finally appeared. To my surprise, they were not loaded with shopping bags; only Eileen had a bag with Versace printed on it. She showed me the black purse; it had a gold clasp and she said that it would fit her dress.

I took them for lunch to Dallmayr; it was close by and we could walk. Dallmayr is a super hyper delicatessen shop that has everything, from champagne to wine to meat to fish; whatever existed in Germany or outside, Dallmayr had it.

It is not a restaurant: the two-star restaurant is on the second floor and opens only at night, but to shop and to eat, you have to stand or sit on high chairs before a small table. I got them caviar and introduced them to smoked eel; the first part demanded champagne, the cheeses later a full Burgundy. It was fun: the food was outstanding and the shoppers around us always stayed for more time than they needed, as my two ladies were simply beautiful and stopped the shop. Finally, I paid the bill and we walked back to the hotel.

Maureen was a bit tired and she decided that she had to plan for the next day; I suggested that she should lie down for a time; later we could order room service and sleep early. She decided also that the next day she would spend at the spa and the hairdresser; I don't know how she did it, but Jenny had sent already a recommendation and had made a reservation for her and Eileen. I would talk to my family's lawyer and see how affairs had been settled. Today we would have supper together and then they would relax.

I told them that this was not acceptable. Could they dance the minuet? They stared at me. Dance the minuet? Why? I told them that in these events couples were supposed to dance minuets, a slow, graceful dance in an almost waltz rhythm. Eileen said that she had seen it in movies, but how did one dance it? I explained as I had learned this as a child; couples would be close together, eventually holding hands, bowing or curtsying to each other, scraping their toes, and then change partners. Most dances were timed that at the end of the music, one was back to one's original partner. And why? It was printed on the invitation and we did not want to be considered peasants from down under, did we?

Maureen asked: "Can you show me?"

I got up, pulled her in front of me and started "One, two, three, one, two three, ..." I kissed her hand and bowed deeply, then counting the rhythm, moved around her until I was back in front. Then I lifted her hand and led her around me. "Count, Maureen: one, two, three!" I told Eileen to stand beside her daughter and repeated the moves. They still stared at me with disbelieve in their eyes. I gave up and called the concierge and asked for help.

Two minutes later a graceful woman knocked, and I explained the situation to her. She smiled. "Count de Winter, I believe that I can help. If you give me a moment?"

She picked up the phone: "Give me Mr. Soliterra." A moment later "Mr. Soliterra, I need your help. Could you come up to the Senior Suite, please?"

She turned to us. "I've known Mr. Soliterra for many years; he's retired now, but he was one of the dance masters of the Bayrische Oper. If anybody can help, it's him."

Five minutes there was a knock on the door and an elderly gentleman entered: white hair, straight position, and a little smile on his face.