Empty nest

British English spelling and grammar.

eg. Digs:

Cheap rental accommodation - usu for students.

Empty nest

(1980s)

I smiled at her. Tall and slim, with long ash-blonde hair. I'd never seen her look more beautiful. A little like a sixties throwback with her cheap bangles and denim shirt; though she wasn't even a teenager in the sixties. The taxi pulled up and, respectfully, the driver did not sound his horn. We hugged, and and I kissed her cheek.

"Thanks for everything, daddy." she said.

"You're more than welcome princess." I said, and got in.

"University?" asked the driver.

"Was it that obvious?"

"I've seen a lot over the last few days. Farewell hugs in Digs Street; taking passengers to the train station. It's that time of year."

"I thought it was called Digby Street."

"It is. But most of those big houses have been converted into students' apartments. I've heard that some of the parents' letters are even addressed to Digs Street these days. Saying goodbye to your daughter I take it."

"I was. So, is Digs Street a safe area?"

"Absolutely. Never heard of any trouble round there. They all look out for each other anyway. Which uni is she in?"

"London College of Music." I said.

"Good for her. Is she going to be a rock star?"

"Who knows? Can't say I'd object."

"Where's your train headed?"

"Newcastle."

"Bit far to drive then."

"Yes. Even with a short stop, it takes over six hours by car, but it's less than three on the train. And sadly, Georgie still gets car sick sometimes."

He was a nice guy. And I thought he was genuine, rather than just trying to get a bigger tip. He got one anyway.

On the train I had plenty of time to think. My wife, Gwen, back in Newcastle, did not want to come down to London. She'd told me so when I was buying the tickets. She doesn't like long goodbyes and was more comfortable just seeing us off from the house. But I was happy to accompany Georgia. She's always been a daddy's girl, and I wanted to spin out our time together for as long as possible. The previous night, Friday, I'd met her roommate Sheila, who seemed pretty level-headed. I crashed out on their settee which was surprisingly comfortable.

It had taken both of us to get all her luggage on and off the train; she'd insisted on bringing her guitar; one of several instruments she can play. I'd like to think she gets that talent from me. And now our little bird had flown the nest. Not forever of course; she'd be home for Christmas. But so many eighteen year olds go to uni, but don't come home in their twenties. She might meet Mr Right before she graduates. And many students get picked up by London agents, and go straight into a job.

Back home, Gwen and I chatted about her that Saturday evening; both missing her in our own ways. We made love that night, which felt a bit like like a healing process. Next morning Gwen took the dog for a walk across the common; her Sunday morning ritual. Gloria is only a mongrel, but very much a mummy's girl. We'd actually discussed her living in London with Georgie, but agreed she wouldn't want to be parted from Gwen. And we weren't sure if the London landlord would allow pets. So that's me, Mick - been living with three girls whose names begin with G - now down to two. I'd just poured a coffee when the phone rang.

"Hi dad! Good trip back home? Not too boring?"

"Hi yourself. Yeah, it was ok. Are you all set for for your first day tomorrow?"

"Yes, Sheila and I are both ready; we share some of our classes. We're about to pop round to a Sunday market to pick up some bits and pieces. Is mum out with Gloria?"

"She is."

"Good. Please don't tell her I rang then."

"Sounds intriguing."

"I forgot something important."

"What?

"My rabbit."

"What, Roger? How could you?"

"I know, it was stupid. I meant to pack him last, so he'd be the first one out when I got here; but I forgot"

"Where is he?"

"Under my pillow unless mum's moved him."

"And you don't want her to know?"

"Not really. You know how she kept on saying 'Have you got everything? Are you sure?' I'd never live it down."

"Understood; I'll find Roger, put him in my briefcase, and post him from work tomorrow."

"Thanks dad."

I went to Georgie's room straight away. I have a tendency to forget things otherwise. Roger's quite small as toy rabbits go. And there he was, right where she said he'd be - a bit flattened, but fine. As I dropped the pillow back into place, I spotted something in the bed. I lifted the duvet and extracted a hair. Holding it up, I examined it. Mine's short and brown, and Gwen's is mid length and blonde; where Georgie gets her colouring from. This one was long, black and curly.

I knew for a fact that Georgie had broken up with her grammar school boyfriend over a month before the end of her last term at school. She'd moped around for a couple of days, but soon got over it. It had never been serious, and I was pretty sure they'd never had sex. Anyway, he had mousy brown hair like mine. No, what I was looking at was the hair of someone Gwen must have taken to this bed while I was in London overnight. And she had enough conscience not to use the marital bed. I only knew of one person with hair like that - Pedro, a young clerk at my office.

He had recently relocated from Wales, and we'd had him round for dinner one evening to help settle him in. After he'd left, Gwen had mentioned how handsome he was. Twenty years younger than us, but it was obvious she was attracted to him. He couldn't have had that effect on Georgie; she'd been on a sleep-over at a friend's that night. She'd never set eyes on Pedro. He had a look of Brian May, lead guitar with Queen, about him. And I'd frequently heard Georgie trying to emulate that style of playing, so she would certainly have mentioned it if they'd met. But Gwen had been asking how he was getting on every week since he's arrived.

On Monday, I did my postal duty and saw Roger off, on his journey south. I casually asked my secretary if anything exciting had happened, during my brief absence. No, all had run smoothly last Friday. Oh, and Pedro had taken a day off as well; looking for somewhere to live. Made sense; he was still in a B and B. I wondered if he had found somewhere comfortable. Before long we were at the coffee machine.

"Any luck house-hunting Pedro?"

"Yes I got lucky on Friday. It's not new, but I like older properties. It'll do for six months until I find somewhere more permanent."

"Excellent." I said.

"How's your wife by the way? Gwen isn't it?"

"Never better."

"Good to know." he said, and went back to his desk.

Back home that evening, I got the inevitable question while we were having dinner.

"Is Pedro settling in?"

"Doing fine. He's found a place to rent."

"Oh good. Is is nearby?"

"I didn't ask."

We ate in silence for a while, and Gwen didn't mention him again.

"Tessa called me at work today." she said.

"Do I know Tessa?"

"You met her that Wednesday you drove me to yoga class, when my car wouldn't start. She was the instructor; well, she still is. You said she looked like Morticia Addams; the Anjelica Huston version."

"I remember. Long straight hair, high cheekbones, very attractive. I was tempted to take up yoga myself!"

It wouldn't hurt to wind Gwen up a bit. She ignored it.

"She wanted to know if I fancied going into South Shields with her, next Saturday. Harvey Nichols is closing down and they're having a final sale."

"Upmarket ladies' fashions right?"

"Yes. We thought we'd make a day of it. You know, bargain hunting. It's only half an hour on the train, so we could have lunch in a wine bar."

"Why not? Have fun."

"And we were wondering... well, I was wondering... if you wouldn't mind picking us up from the station."

"Let me get this straight. You and this Tessa go shopping for expensive clothes. I stay at home and look after your dog, while you're spending my hard-earned cash. Then I run a taxi service when you're done, because you're both too drunk to drive! That's your plan?"

"Exactly!"

"Where does she live?"

"She lives with her father in Morpeth Road."

"We might as well pick her up Saturday morning then. I'll run you both to the station."

"Great! You're the best Mickey!"

She always calls me Mickey when she gets her own way.

"Saturday night, I'll give you the best sex you've ever had!"

"It'd be nice if Tessa did as well!"

"You stand no chance with her, you dirty old man!"

Next day, Pedro knocked on my office door.

"Could I have a quick word boss?"

"Sure, come in."

"I'll be moving in to my new place soon."

"You need another day off?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm doing it over the weekend. And I'll unpack everything over the next few evenings. I was just wondering if you and your wife, Gwen, would like to come round Friday night. I could return the favour and cook a meal for you."

"You cook?"

"Yes, sort of."

"We'd be delighted. I'll let her know."

Naturally Gwen was delighted too.

The rest of the week passed normally enough. Wednesday evening Gwen went to her yoga class as usual. But Thursday, I called her and said the company had had a power cut. There was important stuff to finish, and I had to stay until it came back on. It was a lie of course, and after Pedro left work I called again and said I didn't expect to be home till about ten. She expressed the usual concerns about my getting something to eat, and I told her I'd pick something up on the way home. I knew she had Pedro's new phone number and gave him an hour to get home and receive a call from her. I left work just one hour late, rather than the expected five.

The house was very quiet when I arrived, and I entered silently. Gwen was not downstairs and I heard a noise from our bedroom. Not Georgie's room this time? She was either getting confident or careless. I crept up and listened outside the door. She gave a mighty grunt and I threw the door open wide and stormed in.

"Jesus! You scared me!" she shouted.

I took in the scene. Gwen was squatting on the floor wearing only her undies. In front of her, also on the floor, was the bottom drawer of her dresser. We both spoke at once. I said 'What are you doing?' and she said 'What are you doing home so early?' I backed down.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. The power came back on, and we finished early."

"Well your timing is perfect. This deep drawer slipped out while I was checking it. It's too heavy for me to put back. But if you do it, I won't have to take everything out."

I got it back in while she put a robe on. Downstairs, she heated up the beef stew.

"So what was so important in that drawer?" I asked. "That you had to strip to your underwear to find stuff."

Gwen looked at me quizzically.

"I told you. We're off shopping on Saturday. I've been trying on some of my old dresses; checking which ones don't fit, or are out of style, so I can get a couple of new ones. And that drawer contains all my scarves, gloves, and handbags. Might as well stock up for next year while I'm at the sales. I may not get the chance again."

I felt a bit stupid, and hoped it didn't show.

Unabashed, I watched them carefully on Friday night. I had to admit, Pedro did a good job with the dinner. We had salmon steaks with steamed vegetables. and a wonderful home-made creamy dressing.

"This is absolutely delicious!" exclaimed Gwen. "You can have me round again!"

"Thanks, you're welcome here any time."

I wondered if she really meant 'You can have me again.' I wondered if he meant we were both welcome - or only Gwen. On the pretext of getting a glass of water, I checked his kitchen bin. No evidence of ready meals, or take-out' just a Sara Lee cherry cheesecake box. He'd cooked it all himself.

"Anyone want dessert? It's cheesecake." he asked.

He brought it in and dished up three portions.

"Ah, you didn't make this!" I accused him, smiling. "This is Sara Lee."

"Guilty as charged." he admitted.

As victories go, it was pathetic. We retired to his living room and he put on some romantic music. He and Gwen finished the white wine. I stopped at two glasses as I was driving. Neither of them suggested dancing. The only contact was when Gwen slapped his thigh.

"Well, we have to be off Pedro - early start tomorrow."

"Going somewhere nice?" he asked.

"Shopping in South Shields." she said, leaving her hand where it was.

"Well have fun." he replied.

Her hand gripped his thigh tighter. But that could have been the effort of standing.

In the car, we waved goodbye, and he went back inside.

"I'm cold, can you turn the heater on?" she asked. "I just have to pop back a moment. I forgot my scarf."

She went back and knocked on the door. He opened it and they spoke briefly. Then they went inside and the door swung shut. She reappeared in half a minute; just enough time for a goodnight kiss. I couldn't see why he didn't just pass her the scarf; surely it was right there in the hallway?

"Well that was nice!" she said, putting on her seatbelt.

"What was?"

"Pedro's salmon dinner of course. What did you think I meant?"

Next morning, I drove Gwen and Tessa to the station as agreed. It was drizzling and they both had their hoods up. Still, it would take an earthquake to keep women away from the sales. When I got home, Gloria came and sat at my feet.

"You don't fool me, mutt." I told her. "You're only ever interested in me when your mum's away."

She turned and stood on her hind legs, trying to climb up next to me.

"Can't get up here, can you, you fat lump. I'll lift you if you can tell me what to do next."

She made a 'brrrr' noise in the back of her throat.

"Telephone! Good idea!"

I lifted her onto the settee, and went to the phone. Stupid bitch jumped down and followed me. I called Pedro. I would ask him out for a beer. Ok, it was unlikely he would also go to South Shields. And what would Tessa do while he was fucking Gwen? Or was he fucking both of them? No, how could that be? He'd only been in this area a few weeks. Still, it would be reassuring to keep him in my sights, so I called. There was no reply. I turned to Gloria.

"Any more bright ideas?"

I scoured the house for clues - condoms, soiled panties, new sexy underwear - but there was nothing. Then I called the yoga class. No, Tessa wasn't in today; she'd gone on a shopping spree. Well, at least she hadn't sneaked back on the next train... probably. Maybe Gwen had though. Tessa could be an accomplice. Gwen buys a couple of sales items and comes back to Pedro for a session, leaving Tessa there shopping. Should I call Pedro again? Enough! This was getting stupid. All I had was a curly black hair from my daughter's bed. Maybe Georgie had had a lover. Maybe she'd met Pedro after all.

It was raining even harder when I picked them up at the station. They were both a bit drunk and loaded down with shopping; a lot of shopping. Gwen had bought so much stuff, I was surprised she had time to visit a wine bar, let alone fuck anybody.

Later when she unpacked it all and showed me what she'd bought, I found myself paying attention. She'd certainly picked up some bargains, and hadn't spent nearly as much as I'd feared. And she'd splashed out on some sexy undies. "We can be noisier now Georgie's gone." she said. I decided to keep track of them whenever they got worn. But, apart from that, I gave up. I was obviously on the wrong track. We made love on Sunday night, trying out some see-through French knickers; one of our best sessions yet.

Monday morning, I quickly checked the new undies were in the laundry hamper. Suitably stained - my stains. I silently swore to myself; this had to stop. I got in the shower and washed all my suspicions away. It worked. In the office, I was getting through the day's tasks without even thinking about curly hair. It was over.

At the coffee machine, I overheard some office banter.

"So, Pedro." said one of the girls. "Did you manage to get some female company over the weekend? Have you found Miss Right yet?"

She was obviously fishing.

"No Miss Right yet Sarah. But I had the pleasant company of a very attractive older lady all day Saturday!"

"Oooh, do tell!"

"I wanted to relocate here because my aunt retired to this part of the country. She's not confident driving any more, so I spent the day with her; sorting out her cupboards, weeding the garden and stuff, then drove home. I have her car now!"

"Cool. Perhaps you can give me a ride some time! Where does your aunt live?"

"South Shields, she has a ground floor apartment not far from the big shopping mall."

I called Georgie just before going home. I wanted her to cover for me, next time she spoke to Gwen. I told her I was supposed to be visiting her in London this coming Friday night - and stopping over.

"And what are you really doing dad?" She sounded concerned of course.

"You know it's your mum's birthday coming up. I'm planning a big surprise for her, and it'll take a bit of setting up. Don't worry, you'll find out all about it soon enough."

She agreed, and I told her our story.

"Georgie called me at work today." I said, over dinner.

"Problem?"

"Not really. She and her roommate have a gig on Friday. Not passing the hat round in some pub, but playing in an upmarket club and getting paid."

"Wow, good for her!"

"Yes. The reason she called is she's nervous about it. She wondered if I could possibly go down and watch. You know, clap loudly after each song."

"Why not? It's only three hours on the train. Will you be stopping over?"

(Precisely what I thought would be her first question.)

"Yeah, their settee is comfortable enough. I can knock off work after lunch. Want to come?"

"Big settee is it?"

"No. We'd have to stay in a nearby hotel."

I held my breath. If she wanted to come, the story would get complicated, with cancelled gigs and so on.

"I'd love to."

(Shit!)

"But this is our busiest time at work. I can't really take any time off. You go."

I exhaled. This was the first time I'd ever heard of her company having a busy period.

Friday arrived at last. This was definitely my last effort. I either caught her red-handed, or gave this nonsense up. After lunch I called Gwen and told her I was on my way to the train station. I even parked my car there, just in case. Then I got a taxi straight home. I didn't believe she couldn't get time off, and waited in the little study; she never went in there. I was just in time. Thirty minutes after I was in position, I heard the front door open. So much for busy at work.

I couldn't see her, but listened at the study door.

"Mick?" she shouted.

I smiled. That's exactly what I would have done. Then in her normal voice, she said: "Let's go straight up then. I'll cook you dinner later." Two sets of footsteps went up the stairs. And they went into Georgie's room, directly above me. I gave them ten minutes. Creeping up the stairs, I could hear noises. And they were clearly of sexual pleasure; nothing like the grunts of heavy drawers being replaced. Here I was again, same scenario, different door. I threw it open and stormed in.

Gwen was naked on Georgie's bed. She was in the classic 69 position. Legs pointed at the ceiling and a mop of curly black hair between her thighs. Her lover looked up. I got a sudden flashback of the last two trips to the station... in rainhoods. They scrambled apart, and I saw them both in all their glory; nipples, pubic hair, everything on display.

I shouted "Tessa! You've had a perm!"