My Constance Comfort

Back at the hall, we didn't get much time to chat, but I was aware of her presence. She was walking about with a tea pot, helping with the catering. Eventually, it all died down and my daughter announced that her Mum was here to collect her. I had hoped that she would come back home with me, to help combat the overwhelming sound of silence.

I walked her to her mother's car and she apologised for having to leave, as she had to go to school for an exam. When I told her not to worry, making an excuse that I had plenty to occupy myself with, sorting through my mother's affairs. Then she said, "Will Constance be keeping you company?" I laughed it off, telling her we were barely friends and my daughter scowled, "Dad! That lady has just spent the morning swooning over you, handing out tea and scones to absolute strangers. Was she really that close to Gran?"

Zoe's observations had me thinking, was Constance really just looking after a random, lost soul? I almost felt guilty for even allowing myself to ponder her romantically, as I watched her help to clean up. She had taken her long coat off, to reveal a long black dress underneath. It was slightly shorter in length to her long coat had been, and whilst it modestly hid her body underneath, it displayed the fact that she definitely had noticeable breasts, and was wearing black stockings on her thin legs.

Almost as if fate was conspiring against me, of course Constance chose that very second I had allowed myself to check her out, to look at me. Not wanting it to become an awkward thought, I walked towards her and said, "You shouldn't be doing all this. My daughter just pointed out to me that you've been on your feet since you arrived."

"Nonsense, I may as well make use of myself. I know these things are difficult enough, and I like to feel useful."

I stared deeply into her eyes and looked up to her perfectly turned out blonde hair, back down to her face and said, "Thank you, I truly appreciate it."

She then asked,"Is your daughter here? I haven't had a chance to say hello."

I explained that she had had to leave, but would be calling round after she finished her exam and Constance replied, "Looking after her old man. She looks like you, Daniel."

My daughter indeed did have the family eyes and hair. There was no paternity test required for this one.

Constance then asked, "Is there anything else I can do? I'm free the rest of the evening."

Not wanting to intrude, I replied, "Don't you think I have imposed on your time quite sufficiently, today?"

She then put her hand on my forearm, looked at me and said, "From one grieving heart to another, it's not imposing if I'm offering."

I locked in her gaze, longingly for the first time. It wasn't hot or sexual, or even with any desire at all. But warmth flowed to my own eyes from hers. I told her that I would be spending the afternoon with my daughter, but if she was available for a chat, perhaps around 7:30pm, some dinner might be nice.

I'd like to be entertaining at this point, and speak of a passion filled night of moaning and orgasms. In truth, we settled on a quiet little restaurant that didn't look like much from the outside, but the food was amazing. I did momentarily suck in a breath, whenever she took off her scarf and coat to reveal a lilac top, with a hint of her body underneath the cotton material as it dipped in a not too deep 'V' at the front. Her modest black skirt and flat shoes were classy, but casual.

We talked about our parents, her father passed away 10 years ago. She mentioned being a mother of 2, a boy and girl, but never seemed to mention her son again. I let it go until about an hour in. We had talked about her husband passing away, 30 years ago, her daughter, 35 years of age and living in Australia.

Still no mention of the son.....and then I went and put my foot in it when I asked, "And does your son live abroad too?"

She fiddled with a pendant that was silver chained around her neck. A faraway look came across her face and she said,"My son died when he was 3."

I immediately wanted a bucket, with which to bail out my sinking boat feeling. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

She then reached behind her neck and undid the clasp of the chain. As she said, "Don't be sorry, here.....this is my son, who died of leukaemia, and my wonderful daughter," she placed the small clam in my palm. The small images on each side showed the daughter looked like her, although not nearly as attractive. The little boy in the picture looked cute, and when she told me when he died, I audibly gasped, as it was under a year after her late husband.

"You've been through a lot," I stated the obvious.

She then cupped my hands that still housed her necklace, "We've all had our trials. I'm sure your divorce was tough," and I made light of it, feeling a little like I have no right to complain.

"Didn't you ever re-marry?" I asked. Going for broke on the sensitive topics.

"No one ever came close to my James," she replied, and I could see a warm smile, as she thought of her husband. "What about you, no other wife after.....?

"Karen," I confirmed, adding,"No no, once was more than enough to put me right off," and she laughed.

We then started to talk about our jobs, and I hung back from admitting to what I do, before I had been signed off due to stress. Constance told me she was a Police officer, now retired and doing a bit of admin work to pass the time.

She then asked me directly, and I told her, sheepishly, "Also police. Armed response in the city."

She then squeezed my hands tightly, looked deeply into my gaze and replied, "Then you know all about taking time to deal with things. Make sure you look after yourself before thinking about going back to work.......I'll be here if you.....need me."

I wanted to ask her what this was, where was it going, and what were these feelings that I had. Also, could she please explain this deep sense of affection and care, flowing both to and from her.

After about two hours, we declined to have a dessert and asked for the bill. I paid, telling her, "It isn't chivalry or anything, but I'm locking you into a legally binding contract to buy me dinner, the next time."

I was most pleased when she replied, "You will never need a contract to see me, Daniel." She then looked at her hands, still enclosing mine about ten minutes after they clasped me again and quickly shifted, saying, "Oh my, look at the time. I'll really need to go soon."

Shortly after, as we put on our coats I intentionally looked down. In stretching to don her coat, her right breast lifted and pressed into the material of her top, as her arm found the sleeve of the coat. She didn't see, thank God. I was embarrassed enough at myself, this was not a lady for a cheap thrill.

Constance and I dated two more times. Dinner, a drive up the coast to lunch too, all of which she insisted on buying, and the she threw a curve-ball when she asked me to her pottery class.

Thinking we were going to learn pottery, together, I thought it strange but agreed. Arriving at the small, village hall, I quickly observed that the game was slightly different, these were all decent potters, I was the basic newbie, and Constance was taking the class.

We had spoken every day for over 2 weeks, she had told me much about herself, but neglected to mention she could make things that I considered to be nothing short of witchcraft. Still thinking how odd a date this was, I struggled to get info a rhythm with my allegedly simple bowl descending into farce, with it flinging itself about the wheel like I had launched it from the far end of the room.

Noticing my struggle, Constance came over and asked if I needed some help. I protested, "I'm hopeless! Next time I'm taking you fly fishing!"

She laughed, said that she might enjoy fly fishing, then came to my aid by holding my hands to the lump of clay. The sensuality of this gesture was not lost on me, feeling the contrast of her warm hands pressing mine into the cold earth. Staying focused on the bowl that was forming before me was enough to distract me from the gaping, salmon top, down the brown apron that she wore.

Eventually she told me that it was good enough for a first attempt, and announced that the class was over. Everyone left, I helped her clear up and, as we finished, she asked what I thought.

Without thinking, I cheerfully replied, "Definitely the oddest date I've ever been on!"

Staring at me in a mysterious way, she said what I was now thinking, "A date? Is that what this is?"

Backtracking somewhat, I tried to make it better by saying, "Aaaw, you know. I just like spending time with you, nothing funny going on, just two friends keeping in touch."

She looked at me over the rim of the goggled glasses she wore, took them off and looking at me, said, "No, that sounds more like dating to me. I haven't dated in 40 years.....Oh my God, you weren't even born then!"

Already knowing that she was married at 18, the mathematics were correct. Sensing that I may have set the sun on our budding relationship, I reminded her that we were only friends, but something seemed to have shifted in her brain.

I didn't hear from her again, until my whirlwind themed daughter happened.

####

My 40th birthday was, by far, the least of my concern. My mum would have been first one there for any celebration and I wasn't in the mood for celebrating, being so soon after her death. Zoe, my daughter, however, wanted to go out. She had suggestively enquired about my, "Lady Friend," but as she is mature in a way that's beyond her years, I told her what had gone down.

"Yeah, you two were dating. I know these things," she said, apparently putting the conundrum to bed.

As my birthday arrived, my daughter, now 16, announced that she wanted to take me to dinner with a few friends, uncles, aunts and cousins of mine, with some of their kids all coming along too. Not really feeling like a big party, dinner was the best option. "What would you have preferred, everyone jumping out and shouting, 'Surprise!' This is much better?"

"Damn you for being right! Ok, I guess it'll be good to see everyone," I relented.

I was just saying hello to my cousin, Mark, when I saw her walking in. Dressed in a Chinese styled, black dress, she was the most breathtaking thing in the room. With her blonde hair flowing with every move. Soon, any doubt she was there by coincidence was shut down when my daughter went to hug her. Zoe then brought her over to our party of 18, and I swallowed hard before I said, "Hello Constance, what a lovely surprise."

She embraced me with her hands on my shoulders, and I pressed her closer via my hand on her back. I said, "I hope my daughter didn't harass you?"

Bringing her body closer to me, she breathed into my ear, "She's very persuasive when she sets her mind to it. FYI - you may want to change your pass code on your phone."

"Sorry," I said, for my daughter's bullying.

"Don't be," she replied, trapping my forearm in that way that she does.

With everyone sitting at a big, round table, I had Constance and Zoe beside me. Zoe had introduced Constance as my friend to anyone who had asked, apparently threatening anyone who suggested anything else was going on.

With dinner past by 10:00pm, the night was drawing to a close. Zoe advised that we were now free to go party, and not really being in the party mood - Ever - I agreed to have a drink with her and Constance, who had apparently arrived via taxi. With Zoe on soft drinks, and my date / not date and I both drinking white wine, we had only been sitting for twenty minutes when Zoe's phone rang and she announced that her Mum was there to collect her.

I walked her out, and got a, "Happy birthday," greeting from Karen, my Ex-wife.

I hugged Zoe close and thanked her for making me come out. I asked her, "So, Constance just happened to be passing, did she?"

"You'll never believe it, this is her favourite restaurant! Between me and you, she loves the wine....I think she has a problem!"

"Zoe...."

"Yeah.....?"

"You're full of shit. Stay out of my phone," I smiled, squeezing her close and beaming, "I love you!"

"Go tell her that," she teased, kissing me on the cheek and prancing to the car, pleased with her matchmaking efforts.

Going back in, I half expected to see an empty seat, and was relieved to see my friend still there. "I must apologise once again, she's a complete handful at times!"

"A politician, barrister or lawyer in the making. I literally ran out of excuses not to come tonight," Constance replied, with a smile spreading throughout her face.

"I'm happy that you did. You look beautiful, Constance," I gushed.

She played with her wine glass for a few seconds and replied, "I'm glad I ran out of excuses too. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. I needed to get some things straight in my head."

"And did you, you know?" I asked, and she nodded her head yes and bit her lip. "Constance," I continued, giving it as much dreamy eye effect and dramatic edge as I could.

She turned to look at me, said, "Yes...?" With her lip quivering at what I was going to say.

In my best schoolboy voice, I said, "Will you go out with me, Constance? Will you be my date again?"

"Hahahaha," she belly laughed, almost spilling her wine before asking me, "What age are you, 13?"

"You make me feel 13," I replied, smiling back at her blue eyes as her laughter focused to serious gaze.

"Yes, I'll date you, Daniel Cooper," she said, slowly taking the hand that was resting on the table, in hers.

We finished our wine just as the barman announced it was last orders, and we put on our coats. She flicked her hair out from underneath the collar of the coat that had entrapped it and, when she saw me staring, she held still and asked, "What's wrong?"

I had a brief moment of, 'Rabbit in the headlights,' before clarity set in and I replied, "You are a beautiful woman," and the smile I received with her thank you, made me feel like the luckiest man alive. I asked her where she lived, and if she wanted to share a taxi and she informed me she lives on Bronty Road. Knowing it only from driving through it, I quipped, "Oh, up with the rich people, past the big mansion on the corner?"

She lowered her head and looked up again, and making we want to disappear into the ground, said, "You mean my house?"

Now I really was like a schoolboy and said, "Woowwwwww, that house is STUNNING!"

She smiled again, "Thanks, it's too big for me now, but my late husband and I bought it as a labour of love. I just can't bear to let it go."

We were now standing waiting on our taxi when of course, the rain came on. I saw her reach into her handbag and she brought out an umbrella as I pulled my hood up from my jacket. She could clearly see that I was still getting soaked, and held the umbrella up. I moved forwards, closer to her and she tentatively put one hand on my shoulder, holding the umbrella above us both with the other, and I wrapped my arms around her.

My face was soaking, as we huddled together I stared into her stunningly beautiful eyes and, in a moment of madness, leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. She breathed, "You're almost twenty years younger than me," and I kissed her once again.

"Humour me, it's only a birthday kiss," I said with my cheekiest grin. "You know you could be forty years older and I wouldn't care, I'm crazy about you, Constance."

"You must be crazy," she replied, adding, "I'm not going to be easy, you know. I've not had a man in my life in thirty years.....since my husband passed away."

Resisting the temptation to probe any deeper, I decided not to ask if that meant I was now the man in her life. So I gently kissed her lips again. This time, we held the kiss for longer. It was simple, no tongues or open mouths, just two people enjoying an intimate, tender moment.

When we parted, I knew she was mulling something over, chewing her inner cheek and stopping herself from saying something. I asked, "Is everything OK?"

The rain had stopped, she had shaken her umbrella out and put it back in her handbag. She folded her arms, looking up at me with a look I couldn't quite place and she said, "I'm not asking you to sleep with me, I'm not ready for that. But, would you like to come back to my house?"

I immediately accepted, telling her, "We'll take whatever this is at your pace," and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you," she said, as our taxi arrived and she said, "1 Bronty Road, please."

Her house was indeed stunning, with ground, first and second floors, looking out over the town on one side, sat up behind trees, as if on a plinth up off the road on the other. I told her I remembered the house from when I was growing up, seeing the two windows on the very top floor, peeping out from the tree tops like a set of all seeing eyes and she smiled, saying that wasn't far from the truth, what with her profession.

She had never told me exactly what her job was, but I had searched online and discovered that she was the Chief Constable of our local police force. She then asked if she had told me what it was, and smiled when I told her of my research and said, "Oh, get you. Checking me out before you made a move....."

"Behave, are you telling me you've not researched me?"

Snaking her arms around my neck, still in her dress in her kitchen, she kissed me fully on the lips and said, "Yeah, you passed!"

She immediately tried to break away, but I grabbed her by the forearms and stopped her. We stared for what seemed like 10 minutes, probably only 10 seconds, and I said, "I'm going to kiss you, Constance Roswell."

"We have kissed," she responded.

"Not the way I'm thinking," I told her and her eyes widened.

Happily, she leaned into my kiss and snaked her arms back around my neck. I put my hands upon her waist as her tongue flicked across my lips. Opening my mouth, her tongue touched mine and gently started to dance together before, suddenly, she pulled back and straightened out her dress to composed herself and said, "Sorry, it's been a long time."

"Don't say sorry. I got to make out with a sexy lady...."

"Full - Of -Shit," she grinned before breaking off and asking, "Ok, Mr. Tea, coffee or something stronger?"

We did sleep together that night, fully clothed on her swanky couch with her draped across me. Possibly my most sensual wakeup ever, as I looked down to see her face against my shirt.

###

We had another date a few days later, just dinner and a drink and then we both went home. On the next date, she chose a wine bar near my house, and we had a lovely evening. We talked about our mothers, and about if they're, 'Up there,' looking down and smiling at how we met. At home time, she hadn't rang a taxi and for the second time, hadn't invited me back to hers. I was reluctant to invite her back to my humble house, such was the grandeur of hers.

Outside, we stood in the stillness of the moonlight then walked slowly, arm in arm. We turned to face each other and she hugged into me, placing her blonde haired head just below my chin. I sniffed her floral scent and could feel her body pressing into me, through her open, long coat. I kissed her on the top of the head and she looked up at me. I could see tears in her eyes and thought she was going to break up with me. Instead, her lightly wrinkled eye corners smiled along with her face and she kissed me on the lips, passionately.

My hands practically shot up her back, inside her coat, stroking her silk blouse and feeling her bra straps. We stayed like this for a good few minutes before she pulled back, and I expected her to break away. Instead, she held my gaze and said, "Your house is quite close, isn't it?"

"It's a bit of a downgrade to yours," I sighed, still holding her around the waist.