Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 04

"I've nothing to give them," she whispered as the family set about making coffee.

"You have," I said. "All my presents are from both of us."

She was surprised and emotional, but covered it well, as the Irish coffee was served, the (vinyl) disc of Christmas Carols was put on the record player and the presents were distributed, opened, exclaimed over and placed into neat piles by each person's seat.

She earned brownie points by insisting she help with the Christmas Dinner preparations, and she hit it off with Jane and Kitty. I could hear them in the kitchen talking twenty to the dozen.

Kitty came into the living room with an confused expression I could not fathom.

"Graham?" she said, sounding puzzled. "Connie is Penny's sister."

"Yes," I said.

"She's the one who ran away from home."

"Yes, though really her mother threw her out."

"She said you rescued her."

"Yes." The response was, I thought, getting rather too repetitive. "Did she say anything else?"

"You put her up in your flat."

I nodded. My stock of 'yeses' had run out.

"She said it's the best thing that's ever happened to her."

"I hope so."

She smiled at me. If I didn't know her better I could have sworn her look was one of admiration. From my sister? Unlikely!

Then Jane came in, bent over me and kissed my forehead, tousling my hair. I hated that, which is why she did it. Couldn't do it now; now she tries to polish my head instead.

"Well done little brother," she said, grinning. "You've scored again."

"I don't know what you mean," I replied endeavouring to look innocent. I knew I'd scored the previous night.

"I mean she's just right for you. She'll keep you in order. Don't put the kibosh on this one, try to stay engaged."

"Did she say we were-"

"No!" she scoffed, "but you will be. Your big sister knows!" and she tapped the side of her nose. She had a pretty little nose, not that much to tap.

I gave up. "Hmm," I eloquently offered, and both sisters laughed uproariously.

Dad looked up from his new Christmas present book. "She had a hard time?" he asked.

I nodded and he nodded in return. That was all. He always seemed to convey a great deal without too many, indeed sometimes any, words. He liked her, and he approved of what I had done. It was all there in his nod.

The meal was superb as always, a plump goose perfectly cooked with all the trimmings and a red Cabernet-Syrah or two at the family's request. Then Christmas Pud brought in flaming by Kitty, and served with cream and ice-cream and a dessert wine. Finally a little stilton cheese with port.

The sun was shining low in the south-west by the time we had finished eating, and Connie and I decided on a brisk walk to settle our meal. The cold air nipped our faces, and it felt good to be out, glancing into front room windows and seeing other families enjoying a later meal than ours.

In the evening we watched 'The Morecambe and Wise Christmas Show' followed by the film 'Charade' with Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn on the Television while liqueurs and malt whiskies were consumed along with mince pies and Christmas cake.

Then we made our unsteady way home on icy pavements.

We settled on the sofa, after turning all the lights off except for the Christmas Tree lights and those at the window, and putting Christmas music on the player. She burrowed under my arm and laid her head on my shoulder. She sighed, then kicked off her shoes. It was a gesture that said she was now truly at home. This was home for her, and it seemed I was home for her as well.

"I can't believe it," she sighed. "It's just too good. They were all lovely to me, everyone got on together. One week."

I said nothing. What could I say? She was not the only one who was trying to keep up with a major change in life for the better. I tightened my arm around her and hugged her. She kissed my neck.

I got us both a large glass of Port and a few nuts; it put the finishing touches to our day. Then we went to bed and put the finishing touches to the day again, though I wonder to this day how we managed it.

When we were naked she laid me down on my back and climbed aboard, feeding me into her. She leaned forward to brush my chest with her nips, while kissing me lazily, and moving her hips slowly forward and back and circulating. It was luxury. I had nothing to do but look on her beautiful face and body and feel her pleasuring my cock.

It seemed to go on for ever, but eventually she sat up a little more and while grinding against my root, began to rise and fall slowly and gently, her eyes closed with rapt concentration. I thrust upwards in response.

It seemed a long while, but eventually I was getting close, but she was closer and with a wide eyed stare and an 'ooh' expression on her lips, she stopped dead, deeply embedded and twitched and gasped, "A-a-h!"

The sight of her coming set me off. I could feel the semen bursting again and again, and I pushed up to finish myself to completion buried deep.

Her features relaxed and she allowed herself to sink down onto my body, her delicious breasts pressed onto my chest, her mouth on my neck, nibbling and kissing. I pushed her up a little so I could repay the compliment. I hugged her to me then, and we rested.

Once I had slipped from her she rolled off me and nestled into the crook of my arm. It was already getting to be a habit.

"I love making love to you," she mumbled. "I do things with you I've never done before, and you always let me have my way. I love you, you know that Graham?" She crooked her head to look into my eyes.

"I'm glad it's good for you," I said. "Everything you do is good for me as well. I think it's good for you to be in charge." I almost said I loved her too, but stopped myself.

"I never was before. They always did it to me, but we do it together."

"That's how it should be," I said.

She settled and before long we were both asleep.

Boxing Day, Saturday 26 December 1970

We slept in, and after some gentle affectionate love, we had a light breakfast of croissants and coffee, went for a brisk short walk, and then relaxed with the books we had received as Christmas presents. Connie's books were from Colette, mine from Jane.

The door bell rang at two. I went, leaving Connie in the living room. As expected it was Geoffrey Roasburie.

"Hello Geoff," I said extending a hand, "It's good to meet you again after so long, and even better that I have good news for you."

He took it and shook firmly.

"Graham!" he said warmly with a smile. "Is she here?"

"Yes, she is," I replied.

"I don't understand how-" he started to say.

"I think Connie will explain everything in due course," I said cutting across his questions. "I'll leave you two alone. I'll be in my bedroom when you need me."

I led him the few feet to the living room.

"Connie," I said, "I have a visitor for you," and ushered him in.

She looked up from her book, saw who the visitor was, took a second to recognise him, then "Daddy?"

She stood.

"Yes it's me Connie, sweetheart."

"Oh, Daddy!" she gasped, and the two almost fell towards one another and were in a close embrace, and the two of them in tears, making little noises at each other.

I shut the living room door and retired to my room, where I sat with my book unread, while I wondered what was happening in the other room.

I must have dozed off in the armchair I kept in my bedroom, for Connie woke me. She looked happy and contented, but there was something else, there was worry.

"I'm making coffee for Dad," she said. "D'you want some or would you prefer tea?"

"No, coffee will be fine," I said, and she left the room, only to reappear holding a tray some ten minutes later.

"Are you coming to join us?" she asked, now looking quite apprehensive. I nodded and followed her and the tray into the living room.

"I can't thank you enough for what you've done for Connie," Geoff Roasburie said by way of an opener, "especially since you didn't know she was Penny's sister."

More likely because I didn't know she was her sister, I thought wryly, but said instead, "You and she are most welcome, and it's good that my friends are now her friends as well."

"She tells me they kitted her out with a complete wardrobe," he went on. "Perhaps I could recompense them for that?"

"I think they would be most insulted," I replied with a smile. "They did it freely out of friendship."

There was a pause, and I could see 'Daddy' was gathering himself for something.

"Graham, I would like to take Connie back home to reunite her with the family," he said.

It came as a surprise, and I felt a pang of worry, though I kept my face straight.

"It's up to Connie," I said, then to her, "Do you want to go back home?"

She looked most uncomfortable, and said nothing.

"Connie," I said as gently as I could, but with a sense of foreboding. "You are free to do whatever you want. I've told you that."

"But it's not fair on you," she said, "after all you've done."

"But you'd like to, wouldn't you?" I probed.

She nodded. "I never thought I'd be able to, but now, thanks to you..."

"Then go," I said.

"It'll only be for a day or two," she said. "I'll come back in a couple of days on the train."

"Let me know when you're coming back and I'll meet you at the station."

Both father and daughter looked relieved, and after the coffee, she packed a small suitcase and was ready.

Her father shook me by the hand quite vigorously, "I really appreciate this opportunity," he said. "She really needs to reconcile with her mother, and with Penny and Derek."

I said nothing.

Connie brought her case from her room, put it down and hugged me. "I'll be back in a couple of days," she said, "if you still want me by then."

"You know the answer to that," I said. "I'll be counting the days. Phone me, you know I can't very well phone you."

"I will."

She kissed me long and hard, with her father trying to be inconspicuous in the background, then with a wave from her father's car, she was gone.

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