Maisie

When they announced her flight would be boarding she forgot those thoughts for the moment and she stood in the queue waiting to get on to the plane.

Rob found himself at arrivals far too early, but he couldn't care less. He went and had a look at the monitor featuring the predicted times, but there were no special announcements for Maisie's flight. Good, he thought. That means no delays.

He went to the all-night café for a cup of coffee, and settled with a book, looking at his watch every five minutes - the time seemed to creep past. But eventually it was only fifteen minutes before Maisie's plane was due, and he went back to arrivals and positioned himself in front of the sliding doors with the image of the kissing boy and girl, with an eye on the monitors. The plane from Heathrow was expected to land any time now; it was a bit fast, to his delight.

The plane touched down. The pilot must be very skilful; the passengers hardly noticed when the wheels touched the runway, and he was given a big round of applause. They taxied for about five minutes and then the passengers got up, collected their hand luggage and left the plane. Maisie had a seat in the back and it took her some time to reach the door. The crew wished her a good time and to her surprise it brought tears to her eyes. Come on, Maisie, she said to herself, it will be alright - and she willed herself to believe it.

She hurried past the passport check and on towards the luggage belt. Her suitcase was one of the first to appear, to her relief, and she picked it up and walked to the hall with her suitcase and her hand luggage, hoping Rob would be there.

He was, and he gave her a warm smile, and shook her hand, and almost kissed her cheek -- he checked himself just in time. Maisie noticed and highly appreciated his restraint. They smiled at each other and he picked up her suitcase.

They walked to the car park. He put his parking card in the slot and paid the fee, and they found his car. He opened the doors with his remote and put her suitcase in the boot, and she walked round the car to the front.

"Oh, no," she said, a little embarrassed. "The wrong side..."

He smiled at her. "I make that mistake at least once whenever I'm in England," he said.

They left the car park and drove off, talking about the time that had passed since they'd met. Maisie told him she'd tried hard to forget him - her friends had all warned her against long-distance contacts. But she didn't really think her friends had any experience with such things. When the Christmas holidays came around she was contemplating the prospect of spending another Christmas alone, and there was his invitation, and er, and that was why she'd bought her ticket.

To her delight it became clear to her straight away that Rob had no girlfriend hanging about the place. He had prepared for the family festivities by buying some nice food, a few new CDs and a thick novel that would steer him through the danger time. He wanted to spend it as cheerful as possible - but he beamed at her as he said how happy he was with her company, and it made her feel very warm inside.

Though it was a long drive through the night-time Netherlands, it didn't feel that way, and they arrived at Rob's place before she knew. He opened the door for her and carried her luggage inside.

He showed her around the house, so she would know where to find everything. It was a nice house, she thought, but it was very late and she felt suddenly very tired. They had some drink before they went to bed, and he helped her with her luggage. The bedroom looked very nice, and she appreciated the flowers. When she'd washed her face and hands, and brushed her teeth, she turned in and had a quick look at the books he'd laid ready for her. Gosh, she thought, he remembers I like poetry. It made her smile.

Rob's bedroom was far away from there. He turned in and couldn't get to sleep because of the pleasure he felt in having Maisie there.

Neither could Maisie. She first leafed through the poems. Her attention was drawn by a poem called Eel-Grass:

No matter what I say,

All that I really love

Is the rain that flattens on the bay,

And the eel-grass in the cove;

The jingle-shells that lie and bleach

At the tide-line, and the trace

Of higher tides along the beach:

Nothing in this place.

She reread it and thought of the North Sea coast on a rainy day, and all the times she'd gone there all alone; and how lovely it would be to go there again, hand in hand with Rob, if things worked out and they kept the rapport she thought they had. There wasn't really anything much she loved about Reading; she lived there but her apartment never really felt like home. Rob's face lit up her thoughts for a moment...

She never felt too comfortable in a strange house on her own; and now, in all the silence of this winter's night - it had started to snow, and all sounds got muffled - she felt even less at ease. She did her best to go to sleep, but she only seemed to get more awake, and eventually she put on her robe and walked to the other end of the house. She climbed the stairs, and she knocked hesitantly.

Rob came to the door, and she smiled a little nervously at him.

"I can't sleep," she said, "and the house is so silent - in Reading there's always noises, of cars, and people, and I thought that perhaps you wouldn't mind if I used the other half of your bed?"

She looked at him anxiously. "I think I don't snore," she said, and he broke into a broad grin.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," he said. "Do get in - you will get cold on the bare floor!"

Rob's was a very wide, double bed, with two duvets. He only used half of it, and Maisie took off her robe and slipped into the other half.

She lay down and looked at him. "You really have a big bed," she said.

He nodded. "It was practical when my wife hadn't upped and gone," he said. "Now I generally sleep on one side for a week and use the other half the next. I washed the bedding yesterday."

She sat up; the bedcovers came up just over her breasts, and he saw their shape in the way the duvet fell down over her body. She was damn sexy, he thought, and he immediately looked up to her face and tried to forget about her breasts -- he was happy the duvet hid his crotch from view.

Maisie looked around the room. There was a wide wardrobe filling one wall - "I made that myself," Rob said - and there were a couple of chairs and a low cupboard, and two bedside lights, and the room was quite tidy.

"It's a nice room," she said.

He looked at her and sighed. "It is, in a way," he said. "It does hold some bitter memories - but it could be nice. It's not the room that's at fault."

"What went wrong between you?" she said.

"I fell in love with an ideal, not with a woman, I suppose," he said, "And Bea thought she'd be able to mould me the way she wanted me to be. Those things combined made for a lot of bickering and fighting, and a terrible loneliness before long. I never expected I could feel so all alone living together with the woman I desired, but who never wanted me the way I am. Even now we're divorced she still sends me admonitory messages now and again."

"Oh, Rob," she said. "How awful."

He shrugged. "Living alone proved a lot less lonesome," he said. "I hoped to have someone to share smiles with, as a welcome, or just to show I loved her. But we only shared frowns."

They lay silent for some time.

"You don't feel I'll intrude on your solitude?" she said.

"Oh no, I've been looking forward to having you around so much." He smiled at her warmly and she smiled back relieved.

"Thank you, Rob," she said. Then she bent over, kissed his cheek and wished him goodnight again; and she was asleep within seconds.

Rob turned off the lights. He remembered what she had told him about her contacts with men. Her kissing his cheek was quite something for her, he knew, and he lay back, wanting to listen to her breathe; but he fell asleep almost at once, too.

When he woke up she was still fast asleep, so he softly left the bedroom and went downstairs. The world was white, and the morning light was sharp. The sun was just up; it shone through the bare chestnut at the back of the garden. He prepared breakfast and put everything on a tray and brought it up to her.

When he put the tray on the bedside table Maisie woke up. She looked around the unfamiliar room. As soon as she'd got everything in focus and remembered where she was, she treated Rob to a smile that entirely made his day.

"Good morning, Rob," she said. "Oh, breakfast! That's lovely."

She sat up, and he slipped under his own duvet again. They had breakfast together and then Rob took his clothes and went to the bathroom first while Maisie stretched her legs and watched the light go bright and sunny through the curtains. It had been a good idea to come, she thought. Rob was really nice and sweet, and he didn't intrude upon her safety range... She'd give it another day to see if she weren't wrong about him, she thought. A little voice in her head started to protest at the idea -- you know you can't trust men, it said -- but she told it to shut up.

When he called up to tell her the bathroom was ready for her, she went downstairs and ran the bath. She took a long, good soak and revelled in the feeling of the hot water, and she washed herself carefully. She took the cellophane off the box she'd bought and sprayed some perfume between her breasts; then she went upstairs and dressed.

She came downstairs to the smell of coffee, and went into the living room. Rob had lit the woodstove and the room was warm and pleasant.

"Coffee?" he said.

She gave him a smile. "You know I never say no to that," she said.

He nodded and handed her a large mug.

"I bought a small Christmas tree," he said. "I put it in the shed, fortunately. Would you like to decorate it with me? Or would you rather not have one?"

"Oh," Maisie said, "How nice! Let's go and get it!"

Rob went outside and returned with a small Douglas fir in a basket. Then he went upstairs to fetch the Christmas decorations, and they put up the bells and baubles and had a lot of fun. Rob had put a record with Christmas songs played by John Fahey on the record player, and when Silent Night came along with its slide guitar interpretation Maisie felt strangely happy. Rob was just as eclectic in his tastes as she was, she thought. He wouldn't laugh about her love of sentimental songs, and she knew he liked to read the same things as she did...

He took her to the nearby town to do some shopping. They slithered through the wheel tracks in the lane, but the other roads had been cleared, and the town centre didn't pose any problems either.

Maisie saw the Dutch town was rather like most English ones... It didn't have any charity shops, though.

"No," Rob said, "It's a phenomenon that's still not common here at all, unfortunately." He smiled at her. "You're very quick to notice!"

They decided on what vegetables to buy, and Rob took her to the off-licence and made her choose a few bottles of wine and booze.

Then he drove past his school to show her where he worked, and back home from there. On the way back it started to snow again. There were big snowflakes that had him use his windscreen wipers at maximum speed; he was glad when he could leave his car in the drive, and he hurried Maisie inside before getting the groceries out.

He made them a pot of tea, and laced their tea with a shot of rum. When they were feeling nice and warm inside again, he went into the kitchen to peel some extra potatoes and cooked the food he'd wanted to cook the day before.

That evening "The Sound of Music" was on TV. "Oh," Maisie said, "I love that - do you mind if I watch?" Rob shook his head. They sat down to it together, and afterwards he played a couple of CDs while they talked till well past midnight, when Maisie suddenly felt very tired. She went to bed at once while Rob saw to the usual chores, and when he came upstairs Maisie was fast asleep already.

He smiled a little at her and planted a kiss on her hair before he took his pyjamas on to the landing, changed into them and went to sleep.

When he woke up it had stopped snowing. The snow lay ten inches deep. He made breakfast again, and Maisie came down while he was busy and they breakfasted at the kitchen table, looking out at the birds that crowded around the food table. There were bluetits and bullfinches, and one thrush... Maisie really enjoyed watching them eat. "Oh," she said, "that's just the way it was when I used to live at home." She looked at the birds entranced, and Rob loved the way she looked, radiant with happiness.

The lazy mood stayed with them after breakfast, and so they sat reading and listening to more music that morning, talking a little now and then, and just enjoying the other's presence immensely. The light was like honey in the living-room, and they had lit a couple of candles on the table.

After lunch they went out into the garden and made a snowman, with a carrot and an old woolly hat, and when they were almost ready she peppered his face with a handful of snow, giggling, and they pursued each other up and down the garden, laughing and shouting.

They went in when their snowman was ready, and Rob cooked dinner while Maisie sat on the edge of the kitchen table and watched. When the food was almost ready she laid the table. Rob produced a bottle of wine and they had dinner, feeling rather rosy and very happy.

They watched another movie that evening, and had more coffee first, and then something stronger. They took a late night walk through the snow. There was a bright three-quarter moon, and the bluish beams turned their walk into a special delight. The tree trunks with their one-sided covering of snow shone, and the snow was crisp under their boots. Maisie looked at the surroundings with interest - it was flat country, but there were too many trees for it to be too overpowering so; and her Reading abode wasn't in too hilly a part, either. The lane was even narrower than she thought, and the houses lay far apart, sharply outlined in the snow by the brilliant moonlight. At eleven the few streetlamps went out, but it hardly made a difference. Rob smiled a little and looked at Maisie making her way through the high snow.

"The lane won't get cleared," he said. "At least not before the middle of August..." He grinned at her and she took his arm.

When they were back home they had another drink and turned in. Rob let Maisie use the bedroom while he changed into his pyjamas in the kitchen.

Maisie carefully dressed for the night. She realised she felt completely at home, happy and warm; and she trusted Rob completely. He had been in her thoughts more and more; she really loved him and fully trusted him, and she felt the need to cuddle him and kiss him and make him her own... She felt it was no longer necessary to go on wondering, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?" and she didn't think she needed any more time to turn back and descend the stair...

Rob came upstairs to find her under the duvet. Only the top of her head was showing, and he kissed her hair and wished her goodnight.

She lay down and he listened to her breathe.

After a little while, she felt herself go cold. With fatigue? With tension? She didn't know; it really felt good apart from that. She drew up her shoulders and said, "Oh, I'm so cold." Her teeth made a chattering noise.

Rob felt worried about her immediately. "Shall I make you a hot water bottle?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Won't you just come and lie against my back?"

He slipped from under his duvet under hers and put his chest against her back; she did feel cold indeed. He put his right arm under his head and put the left one along his body.

"Like this?" he said.

"Hmmm," she answered.

He switched on a small bedside lamp, and looked at the room, with the woman he desired so much just a careless display of beautiful hair right in front of his face. The smell of her hair was intoxicating to him, and he wished she were comfortable enough with him so he could put his nose into it.

She lay quiet for quite some time. When she felt his warmth begin to make her feel nice and cosy again, she took the plunge, and said, "Wouldn't it be nice to have your own fixed partner again? Your own sweetheart who's there for you and you for her? Someone who would be there when you wake up, to greet your day with a sweet smile? Someone to talk to when time gets rough, and to rejoice with when it doesn't? Someone you can really rely on?"

She relaxed her shoulders and he felt her back press into him a little more firmly.

"Uhuh," he said.

"It would make life much warmer... You would have no cold mornings, or empty rooms to come home to - you could come home to find her standing in the living room reading a letter or rearranging a bunch of flowers on the table, and you would walk up behind her and put your arms around her, and she would lean back against you and turn her head and kiss you."

Her voice got sultry - dreamy and low. She took his left hand and put his arm around her. He wasn't sure if he understood what she wanted, but it made his heart beat faster - much faster.

"Then you could slip your hands up under her top, and you could feel her breasts through the lace of her bra, and she would wiggle her bottom and feel you, hard against the crack of her cheeks. You would push the cups of her bra up over her breasts, and roll her nipples between your fingers, and she would turn around and smile at you, waiting to be kissed."

He lay motionless and she felt her heart skip a beat. What if she had grossly misinterpreted his feelings for her? He might think she was complete slut, talking to him like this. She turned her head and looked at him. He saw a timid shadow of a smile that could turn into tears by one false move of his - but when she saw the love and need in his eyes it got broader and happy, and he thought he saw a mischievous look appear in her eyes just before she turned her face away again. His arm was round her waist, and he softly pressed her a little closer with it.

She wiggled her bottom - she had a beautiful bum, he thought - and she felt him go hard against her. It made her feel all warm and happy, and she grinned impishly, finally letting go completely of all the fears and insecurities she'd harboured for so long...

"She would feel between your bodies for your cock -" she did, and she slipped her hand into his pyjama bottoms - "and she'd put her thumb and index finger around the base of your cock and squeeze you softly."

She felt his flesh against the palm of her hand and felt his balls with her index finger. She tickled them briefly and then she formed a ring around his cock again and squeezed.

He felt himself go even harder at her ministrations until he couldn't contain himself any longer, and he slipped his free hand up her body to her breasts, under the thin material of her baby doll. He felt the bottom line of a bra - but it only had very brief cups, and her breasts lay naked upon them for him to explore, soft, and warm, and perfect. When he had traced their contours, felt all around them, and caressed them with all the love he felt for her and enjoyed their perfection with wonder, he touched her very hard nipples, and she moaned as he rolled them between his fingers while her hand did wonderful things to his hardness.

"She would use her other fingers to work its loose skin," she continued dreamily. "And you could slide your hand down to her panties -" She smiled when she felt him follow her cue - "and touch the smooth front panel, and then find to your delight they have no crotch and slip your fingers straight into her sugar bowl..."