Cathy and Chris Ch. 15

The fell back onto his bed, the speed and urgency of their caresses increasing with their passion for each other. They had soon stripped each other of clothes and slid under the duvet to carry on their exploration. Playing his part, he didn't jump straight in and interfere with those parts of her he knew from experience would bring her to ecstasy fast as he had early that day, he explored, gently stroking and caressing as a new lover would. She gasped in expectation, almost believing herself that this was new, a first time.

"Go slow," she whispered to him as he climbed over her, "please; be gentle."

For Chris, the imagery was perfect. He knew that he wasn't going to do anything she didn't like, but tonight had been the most wonderful meeting of minds and passions, and he had every intention of going slow, very slow and very gentle.

She lay replete in arms, in the most wonderful state of sexual exhaustion from the number of orgasms she had reached before he shared his with her.

When he said "I'd like very much to spend the night with you," it fitted well into the unspoken romance they had played out, plus it got through any concerns they may have had since the night before and her sleeping on her own.

Perhaps the knowledge that this was Saturday, the children weren't due to be collected until later that evening and they weren't expected at the police station until after lunch snuck through into their shared subconscious as they woke within minutes of each other at a little after eight thirty.

They kissed, a delightful, warm, loving kiss that seemed to last for ages. They chatted about who should get up and prepare breakfast, finally agreeing that they would do it together. Even then, they joked and both attempted to get the other out of bed first.

By nine o'clock they had finally made it to the kitchen, both wearing their black towelling robes, naked beneath. This was a luxury not normally allowed them because of the four busy children running around the place.

Chris switched on the electric grill, first laying on sausages, then strips of bacon, adding mushrooms and tomato halves, as she loaded sliced bread into the toaster. For the final touch he dropped four eggs into a poaching pan already on the boil.

The toast popped and she buttered each slice, before standing next to him to tempt him with a half that she had already taken a bite from. Hungrily, he pulled her to him with his free arm and she lowered what was left of the toast into his mouth almost whole. He snapped at it, making her pull her hand back giggling at him. For Cathy, it was the kind of stuff that couples did on TV adverts for kitchens but she had to admit there was nowhere else in the world she wanted to be at that moment.

Finally after the whole meal was plated, they sat down to breakfast in a room bathed in early summer sun, just the two of them. Much as Cathy had enjoyed the meal she'd had with him the night before, this had to count as one of the most romantic moments in her life, if only for its simplicity.

As they sat sipping the last of the juice and just smiling at each other the mood was temporarily broken with a thump at the door.

Chris went, and Cathy poured and then sipped her tea luxurious, she heard raised voices; she recognised the female voice straight away.

"And you've fookin' beaten him up, yah fookin' savage! A big fookin' man loik' yerself." Maureen's accent was even worse than usual.

Cathy finished the last of her tea, and stood, resigned to trying to calm this insane woman down. The walked towards the hallway but stopped. Unbelting her gown, she pulled up a wad of the cloth, so the gown stopped mid-thigh and pulled the top half of it open slightly open so her boobs were well on display.

Walking into the hallway, she affected a yawn and stretched cat like, and with great pleasure and mock surprise.

"Oh Hi Maureen!" she smiled, "And how are you?"

"Oh you don't want to fookin'..."

Cathy stalked to her sister in law and placed a finger on her lips to quieten her, and for once it actually worked.

"Maureen, it was a rhetorical question love," Cathy was about to fold her arms but instead, leant against Chris, sliding an arm through his.

"Did Mike phone you from his prison cell did he? Use his one phone call? Hmm, thought he might. Now listen, the next time you set your insane friends on me, Chris won't be so nice, he let him off nicely this time. Nicer than I fucking would have done." Her face became stern, "I have a compromise for you; you promise to leave me and Chris alone," she smiled up at him sickeningly sweetly, and then continued, "and we won't tell the police were Mike Stafford got a pistol from." Maureen's face dropped.

"How..."

"I was married to your brother for almost seventeen years - do honestly think that Brian and I never talked?" Cathy did fold her arms this time, and Chris stepped behind her and put his arms around her waist, part support but mostly to annoy Maureen. "Brian could never find out where his Dad's old Home Guard pistol went from under the floor boards of his house after he died, I have a fairly good idea where it went though."

"Supplying a firearm is a big thing Maureen," added Chris, "that's a five to ten stretch at the very least,"

"Especially when that person you gave it to is as mad as a box of frogs," said Cathy. "OK, this is how it's going to be, you can still come and visit, Colleen and Dan still love to see you, but no 'yer mother betrayed yer darlin' daddy nonsense. If you can't live by that then I'm really sorry. I will get all legal on you, I do solicitor stuff for a living and I'll have a restraining order on you before the day is out. I have a box of stuff in the garage for you, some of your..."

"Fookin' poke it," said Maureen, "I don't want..."

"Maureen!" shouted Chris, "For God's sake, save yourself the effort of the pretend Irish accent! It's fucking terrible! Offensive to the ear! I know, you know, even Colleen knows you're not Irish, a week in Dublin doesn't mean you can join the Corr's."

"I'm..." she stuttered, apparently more taken aback by this than the threat of imprisonment.

"Oh, and one last thing," Cathy leant back into Chris and tilted her neck up to kiss his cheek, "your suggestion that we were 'at it', as you so nicely put it; Well we weren't, but after you said, well, it seemed like such a good idea we tried it out."

"That night," said Chris. Maureen snorted, but Chris butted in "Two or three times," adding, "and twice again after tea, and again after supper." added Chris watching her mouth open goldfish like.

Cathy's cheeks were about to implode, but she controlled her humour, "Thanks, we'll both be eternally grateful to you."

They both smiled and tilted their heads with cheesy, simpering coyness. "On that thought," said Cathy, "don't let us keep you," and she slammed the front door shut with her foot.

Staring at each other and straining to control their laughter, they ran back to the kitchen, their suppressed laughter finally breaking out, and them falling on each other.

He wiped his eyes and switched on the kettle.

They laughed, joked, chatted, and he smiled at her.

"You know, talking about solicitor stuff, we could probably afford for you not to work for a while," he said.

"Why?" she said, "I enjoy what I do,"

"Yes, I know" he said, "I'm not suggesting you stay at home, I'm suggesting you speak to the senior partner and see if you can get an internship with your firm and finish your degree."

She looked surprised, but pleasantly so.

"Could we afford it?"

"I reckon," we could do some sums and see at least couldn't we? The partnership might even pay you during the holidays. At least we could pay less for longer."

"Wow," she grinned, "finally a solicitor," she said, "after all these years."

"Yes," he said "Mrs Catherine Morris, LLB."

"Oooh yeah," she said, "That would piss off Caz that I'd finally caught her up... what did you say?"

He knelt on the floor by her chair taking her hand,

"Mrs... Cathy... Morris... L... L... B..." he kissed her hand after each word. "Cathy, you would make me the happiest man in the world... If you'd marry me."

"Wow!" she said, still floating high on her thoughts of getting that elusive qualification, "I..., Oh Chris, I..."

His head was full of words but he knew that, even after everything they had done and been through, she might still need time.

"It's OK, take your time, I can wait for your answer."

She leaned across and kissed him, "Thanks Chris, I just have a few things I have to get straight in my head, I won't make you wait too long for your answer, I promise."

Their statement taking at the police station was an interesting one. Separated, they were both taken to different rooms and a uniformed officer asked them to relate what they remembered of the incident.

The sergeant was interested in how Chris had managed to get into a room locked from the inside. He explained about him and Catherine, their strange set-up and stranger relationship, and the wardrobe.

"Clever," said the sergeant while in his head he thought what a lucky bastard Chris was, "And it meant the difference between and few slaps and a good beating, perhaps worse, to your... partner." The policeman struggled for a simile

"Pleased it was there, sarge." Said Chris, "even more pleased you guys turned up when you did."

"Yes," said the sergeant, "Mr Stafford says that you kicked him while he was down and threatened to kill him."

"Sorry, lost my temper Sarge, can't explain, crime of passion; I thought the mad bastard was going to kill me and the woman I love."

"Oh don't worry," said the sergeant, "the mad bastard is pleading guilty, no come back on you; surprised you didn't rip the mad little cunt's heart out after what he said." The sergeant leant back in his chair, the statement forms before him. "He really did think that your late brother in law meant for him to have Catherine didn't he?"

"Yep, listening to him, I think he'd been fantasising about for a few years, he was always a bit creepy around the whole family according to my nephew."

"What about you being in the SAS?"

"Yeah that's true," Chris said.

"Well, none of us believed him, we thought he'd made that up. What gallantry medal do you have?"

"Oh, I don't; I have the Queens commendation. it's a silver laurel on my Operation Telic medal," he grinned, but sensed the sergeant wanted more, "big fuck-off gun battle, I kept on shooting, they kept on dying, fuck all really." The sergeant smiled as Chris passed off one of the most significant moments in his life.

"Yeah right," said the Sergeant, "they give QCB's away for 'fuck all' I'm sure. Anyway, whatever you had it was scary enough for him to go get a gun."

In the other interview room, Cathy blushed to her knees as she explained to the woman police officer the nature of the wardrobe and what they used it for.

"And was he really an SAS man?" said the officer.

"Oh yeah," said Cathy, smiling at the policewoman, who smiled back thinking about the tall, attractive man being interviewed next door.

"Mike Stafford says he got the gun from your late husband, do you remember him owning a gun?"

"No," said Cathy, true to her word and not actually lying, "and I would have known, he had no hiding places for anything, the house was too small, I emptied every draw twice a year, I would have found it."

"Shed or garage?"

"We had a shed, but it was totally insecure, we couldn't even leave a bike or a paint brush in it without it getting nicked."

"Yes," said the woman officer, "I know that estate well. OK," she said, "That'll do for the statement, I get the feeling that he might be trying to dump suspicion on your late husband, but so far he has told us nothing but the truth. It's a bit strange. Still, he's pleading guilty and hoping to make a deal with the crown prosecution service." They stood and policewoman showed her out.

That evening, when they went to pick up the kids they chose only to tell her parents about the incident the day before. Alone with her father in the conservatory, while the others ordered their evening meal, pizza, online she leaned back in a cane peacock chair.

"Chris asked me to marry him Dad," she said. Her Father's grin broke across his face

"Oh Darling, how lovely! And not before time." he said reaching out and taking her hand, genuine delight in his face.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," his smile relaxed, "Oh come on Cathy, you're not telling me you refused?"

"I didn't say much of anything." She said.

"Why ever not!" He said. His visage changed to that of a concerned parent.

"Cathy, Chris is one of the nicest men I've ever had the pleasure to know, and I'm really pleased that he's still in our lives since we lost Jenny. I was proud to have him as a son-in-law then, and I still would be."

"But..."

"But what hmm?" He smiled, "It's obvious to the rest of the world that you two... erm... shall we say, get on like a house on fire?"

"Is it?"

"Bloody hell Cath, I may be getting short sighted but I've still got eyes to see how you two look at each other sometimes, if you aren't in a relationship already then I've never bloody seen one. The man is crazy about you isn't he?"

"Yes," she said after a short, slightly embarrassed, pause.

"He's got eyes in his head too, I see, - and please don't bother trying to tell me you don't feel the same about him."

"Oh Dad, I don't know," She leant forward to rest her head in her hands, "He's so brilliant to the kids, you only have to look at Daniel..." she smiled almost to herself wistfully, "my Danny... to see the effect he's had on him."

"I'm talking about you!" he said, "Cathy, don't be cross about this but Danny sees things you know?"

"What things?" she said, her cheeks starting to redden.

"He's already said to me that he thinks you two were... well... that there was more to the pair of you than met the eye. He said," the old man put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, "He said that he really hoped you two were going to be an item because Chris was so good for you."

"My Danny said that?"

"Yep."

"On his own?"

"Cathy, he is already looking at which course he was going to study at which University he goes to after he's passed his A' levels. God rest his soul but that was none of Brian's doing. Now even I know two years ago he was getting warnings from the police. Now look at him!" said the man revitalised, "More importantly, just look at you, You've lost weight, you're thirty years younger in outlook as well as dress," he put a hand on each arm of the chair she was sat in, "And you've lost the bloody miserable old woman attitude that I have SOOO hated in you for the last ten years!"

"Miserable... old..." she gasped.

"You've been walking around like a bloody pensioner, all that was missing was the shawl for Christ's sake. That old fool even used to take you to the British Legion on a Saturday night!"

"Old fool?" Her father had final let slip his dislike for his other son in law, and Cathy's mouth hung open.

"Catherine, Brian was a nice man, I really mean it, but he's gone now. You've turned back in to my daughter again, I'd lost..." the man sniffed, "I thought I'd lost both of my girls, but... but now I've got one back; and I think Chris is responsible for it." He straightened, then dropped to one knee before her.

"Whatever you do stay away from old men for God's sake, promise me. You're not even forty Darling." he said, and stood, "Simple question: Do you love him?"

"Yes..." she said, quite simply.

"Can you imagine life without him?"

"No," she said, "yesterday, I told that mad man that if he was going to shoot Chris then he'd better shoot me as well; I meant it."

They ate their pizza and just before ten headed home. Once back, they all headed for their own bedrooms, tired after a fun day with inexhaustible grandparents and two retrievers.

She came through to his room, for the first time using the door and not the wardrobe.

"Hi Chris," she said, liking his surprise at her newest form of entry, she was wearing a long black T-shirt, one of his.

"Bloody hell, using the front door and not the tradesman's entrance, now there's a first," he said, rolling onto his side to watch her.

She walked towards him, "Well, if anyone knows about using 'the tradesman's entrance,' it's you."

"Now then," he said, "don't start anything you can't finish,"

"Who said I can't finish," she grinned.

"Depends what you want to start."

"I might just want to fuck," she said, moving next to the bed, as he threw the duvet back.

He looked at her,

"What's the matter?" he said reading the change in her moods.

"Nothing," she said, sitting down on the bed.

"Cath, look don't worry about what I said this morning, I can wait for your answer, I'm not going anywhere, trust me."

"I'm OK really," she said, "I just fancy a fuck; a nice old fashioned 'throw me down and take me from behind' fuck."

"Oh," said Chris, "Well that's all right then."

"Is there a problem with that?" she said.

"No,"

"Get on with it then," she breathed.

It's not that easy," he said, "Blokes don't work like that."

"You've never had a problem fucking me before," she said.

"What is it with all this 'fuck' stuff all of a sudden," he said surprised at this change of character.

"I just want a fuck!" she snapped, her voice breaking just a bit at the end.

"We don't fuck!" he said with incredulity.

"Well, I'd like to know what it is they call it then," she said.

"We haven't fucked or shagged or rutted or screwed or any of that, not in months; we make love and don't tell me that we aren't."

"What..." she knew precisely what he meant but struggled for an answer.

"We are way past shagging honey," he said stepping forward to run a finger down her cheek, "we are lovers, and we have been for months now."

His comment hit home and she could do nothing but know he was right.

"I think we should split the house," said Cathy stepping away from him and breaking eye contact.

"What?" Chris sat on his bed.

"It's not going to work Chris, I just can't do it," said Cathy, "the sex..." she paused thinking on what he had said, "is... Christ... the sex is the best thing that's happened to me after my children, but that can't be all. And I'm afraid I can't give anymore."

"Is that all I mean to you then, sex?"

"Of course not!" she snapped, "you... you and the kids mean the world to me..." she burst out tears running down her cheeks.

"So what is the big thing stopping you..." his frustration was becoming evident and even the normally placid Chris had a heightened colour. He stood up from his bed and he saw her flinch away from him, just the slightest movement and it started something in him. He had seen it once before and he stopped in mid-sentence.

"I don't fucking believe it," he said with incredulity.

"Well, I'm afraid that you're going to have to..." she sat on his bed and crossed her legs.

"No not that," he dropped to one knee before her. He stared into her face.

"I am soooo sorry," he said, "I must have been fucking blind - I know what it is," he said, "I know why you can fuck me... sorry make love to me, cuddle me, snog with me, not hold my hand by day but hold me all night, but most of all why you won't marry me."

"You do, do you?"

He smiled the tiniest of his triumphant smiles, and shook his head.

"That old bastard," he said.

"What?"

"Brian," said Chris coldly, "that bastard used to hit you didn't he." It wasn't a question. She couldn't maintain the eye contact.

She played with her finger tips.

"He did didn't he, I bet he used to slap your face, not punches because they bruise; no, just a little slap every now and again, just to keep you on the straight and narrow. Old school; keep the bitch in hand with the back of your hand - domestic discipline the old fashioned way." She cast a furtive glance at his face and saw his expression. She didn't see anger, she didn't see derision; she saw only the straight pity of someone that really cared.