Luxury Accommodation Ch. 03

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She kissed me and then grabbed some clothes from a wardrobe and headed for the bathroom. I heard the shower hissing and hardly a few minutes passed before she emerged fully dressed.

I gasped in amazement, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Look so stunning every morning without even trying. Women would kill to look like you, especially after a hard day's night."

She answered, "I sold my soul to the Devil, I'll see you later."

After she disappeared I wondered if I should take part in the activities. I thought perhaps I should and lurched out of bed to stagger into the bathroom.

As I left the shower I remembered that my clothes were in the other bedroom, so I wrapped a towel around my waist and cautiously peered out. The coast seemed clear but as I tiptoed quickly along the corridor Chrissy came out of her room.

I froze but she passed me with a brief, "Good morning Daddy," and timing it so she was still within earshot I heard her mutter, "And I always thought that Moby-Dick was fiction."

Suitably attired, I descended to join them for breakfast and whereas I was feeling low at such an early hour, they were both alive with excited chatter.

Although it still felt strange not having a hangover every morning, some of my brain cells had become re-activated so I attempted to take part in their animated babble by asking, "What are you talking about?"

After a pause, Chrissy replied, "A girl in my class who is only a few months older than me has just started to menstruate, and we were discussing the physical and psychological effect that the event will have on me when it happens. What is your opinion?"

All I knew about periods was that it was an inconvenience that occurred on some sort of regular basis. I understood that women also regarded it as a bit of a nuisance.

They were both staring at me expectantly and I could feel my face getting hot with embarrassment. I stuttered hesitantly, "I think....er....it will probably be...."

They both exploded into giggles and Chrissy said, "Relax Daddy, we were discussing Friday night's Eastenders. Go back into your coma." It was hopeless trying to compete with either of them.

Chrissy had left for school and Emma and I were sipping coffee when my phone chirped with a text. I looked at it and groaned, "Oh shit."

Emma asked anxiously, "What is it about?"

I replied, "I have to go back to Scotland and sort out the water tower. They built the thing on the top of a hill and I warned them that the pump they were installing didn't have the guts to get the water up to it. But they wouldn't listen to me, I'm only the expert."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Probably until the end of the week, but don't worry I'll be back. Just say sorry to Chrissy and give her a big kiss."

****************************** When I cabbed it from the airport to the hotel and checked in, it felt different. Instead of the desolate feeling that it was another watering hole on a parched trek to nowhere, this time it was just an unwelcome diversion. For the first time in my life I knew where I wanted my journey to take me, and it was to a warm and happy place where two people were waiting.

I headed for the bar but not with my usual intention. I settled onto a stool and the barman reached for a shot glass with, "Welcome back Sir, your usual?"

Cheerfully I replied, "No Innkeeper, give me a flagon of your finest ale. Although I have journeyed far, I intend to swill the dust from my throat and nothing more." Five minutes later I left him looking puzzled.

Emma had already received my text, "Landed safely," and after dinner I phoned her. It was difficult having a conversation with two people simultaneously, especially with one them shouting six inches from the mouthpiece, but it left me smiling.

I spent the next four days in a biting easterly wind supervising the dismantling of the wrong pump and the installation of the one that I had specified in the first place. When testing was complete I returned to my hotel room.

I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling in deep thought for a long time. Then I went shopping.

****************************** On Saturday morning I collected my car and headed for home, and it was the first time since my teenage years that I had a home to head for. The excited welcome back that I received after only five days' absence stirred emotions in me I didn't know I possessed.

It was after lunch when the three of us had settled comfortably in the lounge that I was struck down with a mysterious ailment.

I went to the bedroom to collect my small bag and returned to my chair with it resting on my lap. With a dramatic gesture I reached inside to produce my present for Chrissy, and she squealed with excitement when I handed her the box containing the very latest tablet.

It was when I was about to deliver my second purchase that my health suddenly took a turn for the worse. As I reached inside, my heart started to race and I had a feeling of dizziness. I was gripping the small box when I became aware that my arm was experiencing some sort of paralysis and I could not lift it out of the bag.

Both females were looking at me expectantly so I tried again. I still could not lift my arm but I did the next best thing. I snatched the bag away with my free hand to leave my arm poised with my fingers gripping the box. I managed to flip the lid open with my thumb, and Emma stared with wide eyes at its contents.

Her voice was a whisper when she asked, "Is that for me?"

My throat suddenly felt constricted and when I tried to say 'yes' nothing came out. All I could do was nod my head. My heart was pounding violently and I was overwhelmed with an inexplicable fear that I was going to die.

Still looking into the box, Emma asked cautiously, "What is it for?"

I had rehearsed it many times on the flight home and also in the car driving from the airport, but I could still not make a sound.

With more urgency Emma insisted, "Chris tell me, what is it for?"

I tried to speak but my vocal cords were strands of spaghetti. I made another attempt and with a huge effort I managed to whisper a halting, "Will....you...?" That was as far as I got before my tongue gave a lurch and died.

I knew then that I was seriously ill and I was terrified. My body was soaked with perspiration and I was panting desperately as I tried to suck air into my lungs. The worst sensation was that I felt threatened by something evil and I had a crushing feeling of doom.

As my life force slowly ebbed away, I heard Emma's voice rising to a crescendo with, "Damn you Chris, just tell me what it's for."

I became aware that Chrissy was peering closely into my face and she said urgently, "Mummy be quiet, Daddy is experiencing fight or flight syndrome."

"What the hell is that?"

"He's having a panic attack."

Emma snarled, "He'll have a strangle attack if he doesn't finish that bloody question. You're the expert, slap his face or something."

Chrissy responded, "Mummy this is serious, go and sit down."

Slowly and carefully she said, "Daddy can you understand me? Nod your head if you can."

I was gasping for air but I managed a weak nod.

She continued in the same careful voice, "I know you're frightened but I promise that no one is going to hurt you."

Emma interrupted with a vicious, "Don't bet on that."

Chrissy ignored her and took my hands in hers. She continued gently, "There is nothing to be scared of and I promise you are safe with me. I am going to make you feel better, but first we have to get you breathing properly and we will do it together."

I was conscious that Emma was frantically pacing around the room screeching, "All he had to do was finish a simple question. It was not like he was going to ask me to donate a kidney or something."

Chrissy turned her head and snapped, "Mother get a grip, I can't handle both of you at the same time."

Once again in measured tones she said, "Okay Daddy, let's get this breathing under control. I want you to try to breathe the way I tell you, do you think you can manage that?"

I gave another gasping nod.

She commenced, "Okay, now slowly breathe in....and now slowly breathe out. Again; very slowly in.... and slowly out. Once more; slowly in.... and slowly out. Now can you do that by yourself?"

Gradually my world stopped spinning and I was no longer afraid that I would die. My heart slowed to just a rapid beat and I could swallow again. My breathing became only moderately laboured.

As I returned to normality, I reached out and hugged Chrissy close to me with a whispered, "Thank you Darling, I honestly thought I was going to die. It was horrible."

Emma had calmed down and stood in front of us with her hands on her hips. She snapped, "Is he back yet? Has he resumed human form and does he understand English?"

Chrissy said reproachfully, "Please Mummy, Daddy has just been through a nasty experience."

"What about me? How do you think I feel having been asked only half a question?"

In a honey-coated voice she said sweetly, "Now then Chris Darling. Just before you went all peculiar you started to ask me a question, but you didn't finish it. What was the question going to be my Angel?"

I was now fully in control and having serious second thoughts. I reached for the box and shut the lid.

Haughtily I replied, "That unpleasant attack seems to have left me with a touch of amnesia, and for the life of me I can't remember the question."

We glared at each other in defiance and the space between us crackled with tension. There was serious danger that it might all have ended right there, but for Chrissy.

She announced loudly and with passion, "As if I don't have my own problems, I am cursed with two idiots for parents who avoid the truth by shouting and hurling insults at each other like hooligans. Why don't you both grow up and admit in an adult manner that you love each other?"

We both cringed in shame.

Scowling with exasperation she said, "I don't know why I am even bothering," but she was a child on a mission and I knew she wouldn't give up on us.

It was a relief when she climbed onto my lap and with her mouth close to my ear whispered urgently, "Now listen to me Daddy because this is important. I love you, do you love me?"

I whispered back, "I love you very much."

"Then please ask the question for me."

Chrissie's tender plea melted my heart and swept aside all doubts and misgivings. For eight years I had been conscious of an emptiness in my life, but I had tried to deny its existence with loveless sex and alcohol.

Her sweet love overcame my fear of commitment and I knew with certainty how I wanted to spend the future years of my life.

I gently pushed her off my lap and reached for the box again. I flipped open the lid and offered it to Emma.

Clearly and concisely I announced, "Emma, you are an intolerant and annoying bitch but I love you and I have always loved you. Will you marry me and accept this ring as a symbol of our engagement."

She stared at me in silence for several seconds and then lowered herself carefully into a chair. She put her hand over her mouth and her eyes slowly filled with tears.

I said with a hint of impatience, "I'm waiting."

Chrissy warned quietly, "Take it easy Daddy."

Eventually Emma gathered herself and came quickly to my chair to fling herself onto my lap. She pressed her lips against mine before drawing back to ask, "Do you really mean it?"

"Every bloody word."

"Then I would very much like to become Mrs Atkins."

Chrissy announced briskly, "Good, that's settled then. Now make room you two because I am absolutely exhausted. May I be bridesmaid?"

As I cuddled both of them I replied, "You are definitely on the short list."

******************************

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19 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

It’s May 2022 I just read your whole story and it was fantastic laughed out loud and cried a little. You’re a good writer I know you wrote it a long time ago but it was good you should write some more. The sex was fine which is why we found you but you don’t need sex to write well

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
UNBELIEVABLY GREAT

Sometimes, as I read, it is hard to believe that a human has the expansive knowledge and language skills to form words into such an amazing literary masterpiece.

But Mr. Whitesocks put it here.

So I have to believe.

Paul in Oklahoma

BoomerbillBoomerbillover 6 years ago
Love their repartee!

This is a fun and uncommonly articulate reed. Well done!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
Wow! What a FANTASTIC story.

It is extremely rare that I get emotionally tied to a story. Its even more rare that I laugh out loud, by myself, when reading. I did both.

Very well written.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 8 years ago
Promise me...

...that you are not a professional writer, because you are good enough to be one. Well, nearly: the plot is good, the writing literate, and it's funny; but you could do well to find how to describe the sex by saying more with less. This probably sounds a bit patronising (sorry about the English spelling), but then so does Chrissy, so there must be some of it deep in the author's psyche!

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