A Steamy Relationship Pt. 01

"Get your fucking ass in here!" I screamed, my high pitched voice cutting through the hissing and clanking. Grinning broadly, his white teeth glowing against his soot-blackened face, he turned in and stopped in a hiss of steam, much to the bemusement of dutiful wives waiting in their Range Rovers and Volvos to pick up their commuter husbands.

Climbing down he said, "Kelly! Great to see you!"

"Are you fucking insane?" I shouted, my fists balled up, "Have you got a death wish? It'll be dark in ten minutes, and the rural rush hour is about to start, and you've got no fucking lights!"

He looked at his shuffling feet and said, "I ah..., went further than I'd planned."

"And a steam plough? What happened to the showman?"

"Sold it. £165k and bought this for £135k. Ted was right, too much polishing."

"What did your father think of that?"

"I um..., lost him, a month after we met."

"Oh shit, Lee, I'm so sorry," I said, instinctively hugging him. To my surprise and disappointment, he pushed me away. "S..., sorry," I stammered, "I didn't..."

"It's okay, it was nice, it's just that..."

I followed his gaze to the front of my cream North Face skiing jacket which was now cream with black greasy smears from his old jacket. "Sorry," he said cringing.

I sighed and shrugged, "That's why dry cleaners stay in business. Anyway, I really am sorry about your dad."

"Thanks," he said, "Now, about this pickle I seem to have found myself in?"

"Okay, I'll go home and find a lighting board we can strap on. I'll be about half an hour."

"Um."

"Yes?"

"I went further than I'd planned. I'm not sure I've got enough coal to..., y'know..., get home..., as it were."

I rolled my eyes, muttered, "For fuck's sake," and got in my truck.

25kg bags of Welsh steam coal are bloody heavy when you're not much heavier yourself, especially when you've got to lug eight bags into the back of a pick-up. Returning to Etchingham, I found Lee sipping a pint of Guinness, apparently supplied by the landlord of the pub opposite who felt sorry for him.

"When you've finished your beer break, there's coal in the back," I said. Helped by four men from the pub, we rigged up the lights and connected them to a 12v battery.

"Thanks, Kelly," said Lee, "I can make it home now."

I shook my head, "It's just a cheap old lighting board on the back. I'll run behind with my flashers on."

Ninety minutes later, we safely turned off a country lane into a gateway signed 'Harcourt Grange'. Fancy. Around the back of the impressive house, Lee reversed the engine into an open-sided Dutch barn, opened the fire doors and vented the steam.

"You a Lord or something?" I asked as he emerged.

"No, just had ancestors who invested wisely. And my father was a retired High Court judge."

"You said you weren't a toff."

"I'm not. Well, I did go to Oxford but not Eton." As he spoke, he ran his fingers through his sooty blonde hair. I stared at him, unable to speak. Seeing him stroke his hair like that had stirred feelings deep inside me that I hadn't felt for over three years. "You okay?" he asked.

"What? Y..., yes, I'm fine. I should be going."

"Nonsense," he said stepping closer, "I have to reward my saviour with a drink and dinner."

"Dinner? I couldn't..."

"Don't get excited, it'll be a beer and a microwave meal. I have plenty to choose from though."

"Well..."

"Please? Just friends sharing an hour."

Why was I hesitating? I could think of nothing unlikeable about Lee. Quite the opposite in fact. "Thank you," I finally said, "But you need a shower."

Unlocking the heavy oak front door he said, "Couldn't agree more. I'll put some coffee on then head up. Feel free to wander around, nowhere is off limits. The heating's on but light the fire in the lounge if you want, it's ready to go."

I took him up on his offer. Wow, what a house! It was patently very old, confirmed by 1644 carved into the top of a doorframe. Having put a match to the prepared fire, I wandered. Not a toff? I counted a huge lounge resembling a medieval banqueting hall with four leather sofas, a very formal dining room with oil paintings and a twenty foot long table with twelve antique chairs, a study-cum-office, a library, a bathroom, a cloakroom, a kitchen the size of my lounge, an orangery full of beautiful orchids and ferns, a utility room, a snooker room with full sized table and a doorway which revealed steps down to a cellar.

Flicking a light switch, I descend the stone stairs. Instead of dust and cobwebs, the walls were lined with intricately carved oak panels showing vines, deer and cherubs. It was chilly but with no smell of damp or mustiness. Reaching the bottom, I flicked another switch and gasped. I was in a stunning wine cellar with vaulted brick roof and subtle lighting that seemed to stretch the length of the house. Regularly spaced ornate brick pillars supported the roof and presumably the house above. Literally hundreds, possibly thousands of bottles lined the walls and aisles, many covered in years of dust. Carefully, I pulled out one bottle. Using my thumb I wiped the brown paper label. 'Porto 1889'. Wow!

"Kelly?" I heard Lee call.

"Down here," I called back.

He arrived at the bottom step wearing jeans, a black shirt and brown corduroy carpet slippers which made me laugh. "Hey, they're comfortable," he said frowning and somehow smiling at the same time.

I waved my arm and said, "Come on Lee, seriously, what the actual fuck?"

He chuckled and said, "Yeah, I suppose this is a bit upper class. No-one knows who started it but we found paperwork down here from 1622."

"Older than the house?"

"What? Oh, I see, you found the carved date. No, that was the date of the extension. We know that the main house dates from the early 1400s; at least, that's what the tree ring dating of the roof beams tells us. Choose a bottle of wine for dinner if you like."

"From this lot?" I laughed.

"God no, I never touch that stuff, it's all a mystery to me." He walked over to a modern chrome rack near the stairs, pulled a bottle and said, "Waitrose own-label Shiraz?"

I walked past him, smiled and said, "You shop in Waitrose? 100% toff."

At the top of the stairs he said, "Actually, Miss Smartypants, my housekeeper, Mrs Osbourne, does the shopping."

"Lee, when you're in a deep hole, stop digging."

We settled on microwave chicken tikka masala with pilau rice, eaten on our laps in the lounge.

"Lee," I said, "When you've got all this you can't be short of a few bob. Why did you stop bidding on the steam whistle?"

He looked slightly uncomfortable and said, "Because I saw you."

"Saw me? What does that mean?"

"I've been to dispersal auctions before. You're usually bidding against farmer types or dealers. Then I spotted you waving your card. Petite, beautiful and biting your bottom lip each time you placed a bid. It just occurred to me that you probably needed that whistle more than me."

Beautiful? Averting my eyes I looked down at my plate and felt blood rush to my face and goosebumps rise on my arms.

"Anyway," he continued, "I left my details at the auctioneers office. Another one, slightly smaller, came up at their next sale which I bid for online."

"And now you've got a steam plough."

"And I love it."

"Isn't it unusual for your father, a high court judge, to have been into steam?"

"He liked getting his hands dirty. I think he enjoyed the contrast with his day job; swopping his robes, wigs and fancy lunches for oil cans and coal. He was at his happiest cleaning out a firebox or polishing brass. So, did you enjoy your tour? I'll thrash you at snooker later if you like. Not had anyone to play against for ages."

"You live here alone?"

"Now I do. My mother passed five years ago. She was only 48. I guess cancer runs in the family. Dad was sixty-six. He always thought he'd go first. Near the end he said, "Son, forget the money, it doesn't let you live any longer, just enjoy your life."

"No siblings?"

Lee shook his head, "No, he was much older than her and I think that the sperm that produced me was his last. They tried afterwards but with no success."

"Does your engine have a name? I didn't see one."

"Daphne when I bought it, which I hated, so I took the plates off. I've been researching it's history and found she was originally called Veronica so I think I'll revert to that."

"Where did you find her?"

"Carlisle."

"Must have cost a pretty penny to move her to Kent."

"Eye watering."

"Ouch, you might have to sell a bottle of port."

"I'm selling the lot, and the house."

"You're ancestral home?"

Lee laughed, "Ancestral? My father bought it in the seventies."

"But the wine cellar?"

"It was a bereavement sale by auction, house and contents. My father never drank, just wanted the house and land, god knows what's down there. It may be worthless for all I know. I've got a valuer from a wine auctioneers coming to look at it next week."

"Where will you live?"

"Dunno, just somewhere smaller. I'm a young lawyer and can't afford to run a place like this. Just the oil for the heating is £10k a year."

"So, you're going to show this Veronica I assume?"

"Dorset."

"Sorry?"

"The Dorset show."

I paused my fork and stared at him. "Dorset, as in The Great Dorset Steam Fair?"

"Uh huh."

"That'll cost a bit."

"Not if I drive her there."

"Drive her? Have you taken leave of your senses? You do know where Dorset is?"

"Uh huh."

"And how far it is?"

"Uh huh, 151 miles according to Google Maps."

"That'll be down the A27, you can't take an engine that way, the traffic's doing eighty miles an hour. Plus, where it goes around Portsmouth and Southampton it becomes the M27. You can't take steam on a motorway. You'd have to use the A272 to Winchester making it more like 200 miles if not more."

"Okay."

"What do you mean, "Okay"? Water stops, coal stops, hills, breakdowns, meals, routine maintenance all on your own? You'll be lucky to average 40 miles a day. Five days at least, longer if you have a rest day."

"You don't think I can do it on my own?"

"No, and you've got to come back again. You'll never make it on your own, especially not on an unfamiliar engine."

"So come with me."

It was like something had sucked all the air out of my lungs. I struggled to speak. "Wh..., with you?"

"You're right. It would be tough on my own. It's been worrying me, then it came to me in the shower - you've got the experience and the expertise."

"I don't know your engine."

"You misunderstand. We'll take both engines. Stream ploughs should always be shown in pairs. Veronica is right-handed, your Victoria is left-handed."

"How do you know that?"

"Don't worry, I haven't been stalking you. I was researching potential shows. Most websites include a photo gallery of past shows. I came across quite a few of you and your late husband with Victoria. Sorry to spring it on you like this but please consider it. Look on it as an adventure."

"But the practicalities; I've never taken her further than the Bluebell Railway at Sheffield Park, about fifteen miles. Then there's coal deliveries and water and..."

"We can carry coal in one of the towed huts. And we get water from stand pipes."

"That's illegal."

"Only from fire hydrants. I've got a metered standpipe from Southern Water. I lift the manhole, connect it up, take what I need and send the meter reading to them."

"Southern Water's area doesn't stretch to Dorset."

"I know. I'll need accounts with Southeast Water and Wessex Water too. So, that's the coal and water sorted. Next?"

"Accommodation?"

"My hut's got bunk beds or we stay in pubs. Ones that have big car parks."

"Lee, I hardly know you. This is only our second conversation."

"Third if you count the station car park earlier. "Just enjoy your life," my father said. C'mon, Kelly, it'll be a blast. We could make a real trip of it - come back the pretty way."

"What pretty way?"

"Across South Devon into Cornwall, up to the north coast, back across North Devon into Somerset, then across Wiltshire. About 500 miles allowing for the odd detour."

"You're as mad as a bucket of frogs."

"You haven't heard the best bit."

"Oh god!" I said, shaking my head.

"This trip will be the warm-up."

"I know I'm going to regret asking, but warm-up for what?"

"The big one."

"Yorkshire?"

"Nope."

"You're not thinking Scotland? That's..."

"Think bigger, really big."

"I give up."

"South Carolina."

"As in South Carolina USA?"

"Spot on."

"And what's in South Carolina USA?"

"The start."

"Of what? Just come out with it, Lee."

"A road trip. Charleston to San Diego."

I sat back and roared with laughter. Lee looked deflated. Still chuckling I said, "You can't be serious?"

"Why not?"

"Well to start with, if it was that easy, American owners would be doing it all the time. Has it been done before?"

"Dunno."

"Exactly. And think of the obstacles. Firstly - how do you get an engine to Charleston?"

"Big ro-ro ship from Liverpool. Plant and machinery crosses all the time."

"Okay, and what about boiler certification, licences, insurance, import regulations, coal availability, spares and..."

"Yeah, we'd have to research that."

"We? While your at it, there are all the state rules. One thing I do know about the US is that highways and vehicles are a state not federal responsibility. The rules will change every time you reach a state line. How many states?"

"Um..., nine or ten depending on the route."

"So that's nine sets of rules, and what do you do in the unlikely event of reaching San Diego? Turn around and drive back or are you off to Canada next?"

"If it was easy, it wouldn't be a challenge."

"And what about your job? You'll be away months. You can't say to judges, "Can you adjourn the case for six months as I'm off on a mad jolly to America", they'll laugh at you."

"I'm not a criminal lawyer, I deal in agricultural property and forestry. I can put that on hold."

"You really are serious?"

"Everyone needs a dream."

"Yeah but Christ, Lee, we've not even made it to Dorset yet."

The grin spread slowly across his face.

"What?" I said, frowning.

Now he was grinning broadly. "You just said, "We"."

"You bastard!" I said, sitting forward.

Now he was openly laughing. "Hook, line and sinker."

"Dammit, Lee," I said, "That US stuff was all rubbish?"

"Pretty much, though it might be fun. So, we need to plot a start date. Probably best if I bring Veronica to you then we set off together for Dorset."

Fuck.

.....

As always, plans change. Three executives from the oil company were sentenced to five years each and the company was fined £52m. Shares took a hit but within weeks were back up to £28.17 each; more than they were originally. So my shares were worth £281.7k. The excited wine auctioneers took three weeks to clear Lee's cellar. The estimate is £2.5m to £3m but with some extremely rare port and whisky it's largely guesswork.

Once or twice a week, we'd meet up at his place or Ted's barn to work together. He was the perfect gentleman. Sometimes, as we drove our separate ways, I wished he wasn't. As spring came, we were working on Victoria. Lee seemed distracted. Over mugs of tea in our oily hands, sat in Ted's kitchen, I said, "Any movement on the house?" He shifted on his chair. "Don't do that," I said, "If you've got something to say, just say it."

Taking a deep breath he said, "I accepted an offer above the asking price yesterday."

"That's good isn't it?"

"Yeah but..., well...,"

"You've got to move Veronica."

"Yeah."

I'd been thinking about that for weeks but as Lee hadn't mentioned it, neither had I. "Here?" I said.

"Um, I didn't know if you might think..."

"Seems logical. Don't know why we haven't done it before."

"Oh! You think Ted would be alright with it?"

"Alright with what?" said Ted, bursting through the kitchen door and tossing his cap onto the big oak table, "Any tea left in that pot?"

"Nicely stewed by now," I said, "Just how you like it."

Sitting opposite me and pouring a mug he said, "So, what is it you want to ask me?"

Lee explained the situation while Ted sipped his tea. Slowly he nodded and said, "Best to put the two engines in the Dutch barn but you'd have to keep 'em tarped; wind whips through there pretty sharpish. Gonna cost you though." That surprised me.

"Of course," nodded Lee, "I'm happy to pay rent and for utilities."

"Don't be daft, that's not what I meant. I means I'll need someone to look after the farm for a few weeks, three in fact, in October." Then Ted looked at me and said, "I..., um..., been seeing a lady, Pat, lives in Wadhurst, lost her husband two years ago. She's invited me on a cruise, Southampton to Cyprus then fly back."

I had to stifle my chuckle with my hand.

"What?" frowned Ted.

"You, on a cruise, Ted?"

"I'll have you know I've got a tuxedo and can do a mean Tango. Me and Mary used to dance in Eastbourne. It might have shrunk a bit mind." Ted grinned as he patted his stomach.

"I'd pay good money to see that," I said, then paused, reached for his hand and said, "Ted, I'm really pleased for you."

"Aye, well, time passes."

"Thanks, Ted," said Lee, standing to leave.

Ted nodded and said, "Kelly'll catch up with you in a minute."

"Oh, right," said Lee, frowning slightly and glancing at us before leaving.

"Ted?" I said when he'd gone.

Ted picked up his cap, rolled it and used it to point at me. "Now you listen to me, young lady, you can't go congratulating me on my lady friend while you're pussyfooting around young Lee."

"I..."

"I seen the way you look at each other. You're like a pair of boxers, dancing around the ring, both scared to make the first move. It's been nearly four years, Kelly. I ain't got many years left but I'm going to enjoy 'em, but you've got your whole life ahead of you - kids, a family. You wanna live your later years alone surrounded by cats?"

I felt tears forming. "Ted, I..."

He stood and said, "Make the bloody move, Kelly, then you can both stay here."

"What?" I said, wiping my eyes.

"Well, it don't make no sense, him going off to his place of an evening and you going off to yours. This place has got five bedrooms and it'll drive me nuts if you're still fannying about like a pair of featherweights."

After he'd gone, I just stared at the doorway. I had a decision to make, one that slightly terrified me.

Lee, knelt at Victoria's front wheel watched me approach and said, "Everything okay?"

"Um, yeah. He thinks it might be a good idea if we stay here overnight in the future, save going backwards and forwards."

"That's very kind of him."

"Yeah, it is."

"I was planning to take Veronica out in the morning but I could bring her here instead and use her to move Victoria and the huts."

"Okay. It'll be a long day for both of us."

"So maybe we should take Ted up on his offer and stay here tomorrow night? I could do a fish and chip run in the evening."

"Yeah, yeah we'll do that," I said, climbing up Victoria's ladder. Two featherweights dancing around. I wanted to talk more intimately with Lee, in fact, my body wanted to be intimate with him but my head was holding me back. I couldn't get around the thought that I'd be cheating on James. No-one else had kissed my breasts, sucked on my clit or slid a hard cock into me. No-one else in the entire world had seen my orgasm face, and my fingers had held no other cock nor my tongue tasted any other sperm. James and I had known each other's bodies, knew of the erogenous zones and our likes. With Lee, I'd be starting from scratch again.

What if I didn't do what he liked or even worse, did something he hated? What if I didn't turn him on? What if things became..., complicated? Maybe it would be better to maintain the status quo; just be steam friends? Oh god, I'm going to die in an armchair and be eaten by cats.