Seema's Journey Ch. 05

Heavy and rushed footsteps sounded. A key was hastily turned and the door was thrown open. Simran's father stood stock still, dressed in loose jeans and an old shirt, tired eyes staring and flicking angrily between them. Simran stood tall and defiant. Seema wanted to close her eyes tight and put her hands over her ears to defend against the barrage of vitriol that was surely to come.

Instead, he lunged forward and flung his arms around Simran.

"Simran! Where the bloody hell have you been?" he cried. "I've been so worried, you...you stupid girl!"

He took Simran completely by surprise. After a few confused moments she put her arms loosely around her father, shooting a questioning glance at Seema.

He stood back and looked at Seema, his face tightening into an angry scowl. "You!" He pointed angrily at Seema. "This is your fault, you disgusting~"

"Dad!" Simran shouted, standing between them. "No! Don't you dare shout at Seem! No way!"

Seema shook and felt like crying.

"Listen Dad, we need to talk...ok. But not here...being as though this is where you kept your daughter...like a prisoner, for fuck's sake!"

His face relaxed instantly, the fatigue in his eyes returning. "Oh Simran, please don't swear..." He peered over his shoulder. "I can't go anywhere...for one thing, your mother said she'd call, and secondly the glazier is due...to fix the window you smashed...why did you have to smash it, sweetness?" He almost whined. "I've been so worried about you. Your mother is going mad with worry at home."

"And who is to blame for that?" Simran said hotly.

"We can't help being in love you know," Seema blurted. She immediately looked down at the floor as Simran's father glared at her.

Seema glanced sideways at Simran, who winced as she looked between her and her father. Seema rummaged in her pocket for her purse. She withdrew some money and held it out to Simran's father. "To pay towards the smashed window..." she said quietly.

"I don't want your ..." His angry voice trailed off. His eyes fell as he looked awkwardly at the ground. "If you want to talk, you better come in."

"Are you going to keep us both prisoners here?" Simran asked, doing her very best to maintain a sharp voice.

"Oh Simran, sweetness..." Simran's father looked close to tears. He turned and walked slowly inside.

Seema and Simran exchanged confused glances before following him inside. Seema put the money back in her pocket before closing the white uPVC door.

#

They sat in the kitchen at a small pine table. There was a cool breeze coming in through a window frame which was devoid of glass. A sweeping brush lay on the floor next to a carrier bag full of broken glass. The kitchen was bare and the bright white walls added to the sterile atmosphere.

"Dad, there's a few things you need to know," said Simran, getting straight down to business. She wanted to get things over with. "First, Seema is very special to me, and I love her very much-"

Simran's father winced.

"-and you need to get used to that. Understand?!"

"Sweetness, but that can't be right, surely. Like Mo' said~"

"Ahh, Mo'!" Simran's laugh was cold. "More about your precious Mo' in a minute. Let's stick with me and Seem first, ok! Dad, your daughter is happy," Simran's voice softened. "I'm really happy. Doesn't that make you happy?"

Confusion played over his jowly face. His shoulders sagged and he rubbed his eyes. Seema stayed silent. She was still shaking, but somehow she guessed there wouldn't be any more shouting. Simran's father looked, if anything, an overly stressed out man.

"Does it Dad?" Simran pressed.

"Yes...I suppose...but it's wrong...like Mo' keeps telling me."

Simran sighed and rolled her eyes. "Dad...umm...there's other stuff I need to tell you."

Simran paused. Seema wasn't sure whether the pause was for effect or because Simran wasn't sure how to breach the subject. Automatically, Simran grasped Seema's hand, a gesture immediately noticed by her father. But, there was no glowering look, merely a slight resign.

"Dad, whilst you were keeping me...whilst I was here, Seema discovered a few things..."

Whilst Simran recounted Seema's escapades and discoveries, Seema readied herself for a barrage of expletives from Simran's father as he leapt to his brother's defence. But, as Simran told of the dirty panties and the pictures on Mo''s mobile phone, his eyes seemed to glaze over, a distant and sad look on his face.

'Oh my gosh,' thought Seema. 'Has this happened before?'

"Dad...?" Simran said gently.

His eyes became moist. Anger briefly flickered across face.

"Dad, are you ok?" Simran looked worried.

A knock at the front door broke the heavily pregnant silence. Seema was almost relieved at the interlude. Simran's father rose silently, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Glazier..." he murmured, and walked out of the kitchen.

Seema turned in her chair to watch as he left the room. "Um, is he ok?"

"He's just been told his brother is a perv," Simran said quietly as she peered down the corridor towards the front door.

Seema could tell she was concerned. "What shall we do now babe?"

Simran's father came back along with the glazier, who immediately set about taking measurements. Simran pulled her father to one side.

"Dad, we'll go and sit on the beach for a bit while the window gets sorted. I'll pay for it," she said guiltily. The defiance and anger at her father had drained away.

"No sweetness, it's ok. I'm glad you're safe." He glanced quickly at Seema. "Both of you..." He shook his head bitterly. "So many lies..." He turned back to the glazier. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Simran shot a confused glance at Seema. "We'll be back in a bit then Dad."

#

The sea breeze was gentle and warm. The tide had turned quickly and the families enjoying the small waves followed it down as it retreated further, leaving the sand dark and flat. Seema and Simran sat against the sea wall under the iron railings.

Seema let the dry, fine sand ooze between her toes as she dug her feet into the beach. She couldn't believe that her mother had never taken Seema and her brother to a beach when they were kids. The fresh sea air was so incredibly relaxing, and she could now see why so many people thought of a seaside holiday as the perfect tonic for the ills of the cities. Seema had never swam in the sea or built sandcastles. But, here she was, sat on a beach snuggled up with her lover. Could life get any better?

Simran was distant though, deep in thought. She hadn't said much since they had sat down together on the soft sand. Seema wished they were talking, laughing, joking, enjoying each other's company, but she knew Simran was worried about her father, and angry at Mo''s misdemeanours. Rather than being angry, her father had been utterly relieved to see his daughter. It was plainly obvious that everything he had done had been under duress. And it had plainly taken its toll.

Seema was more concerned that his reaction to Mo''s perverse transgressions seemed to betray a reawakened memory or two, as well as a deep black anger. Simran hadn't mentioned this; either she had been oblivious to it, or she was choosing to ignore it.

Simran turned to Seema and kissed her quickly on the lips. She stood up, looked in the direction of the house and growled impatiently.

"How long does it take someone to put new glass in, for goodness' sake?"

"Stay calm, honey," Seema said, pulling Simran back down to the sand. "So...what's the plan babe?"

"Well, as soon as I know my Dad's ok...I want to make Mo' pay for being a dirty, mean bastard."

"I think we all do..." Seema's inference was lost Simran.

"Basically, I'm going to tell Mo' that if he doesn't comply, I will out him as a pervert." Simran's voice was steady.

"Comply with what?"

"My Mum and Dad do so much for him, and he's stinking rich, and they're not very well off. That's not right."

"No. So..." Seema coaxed.

"He needs to pay my parents back for everything they've done for him - let me tell you, they've done loads - and if he doesn't...I'll out him as a pervert who sniffs his niece's underwear, wanks on her fucking bed, and takes secret pictures of her." Simran looked like she was about to vomit.

Seema was silent.

"Ever since they were young boys, my Dad was always taking the rap for things Mo' did," Simran continued. "It's always been the same. Speeding ticket? Don't worry, my Dad will take the rap. A loan? Yeah sure! You know, my Dad stumped up the cash for Mo''s first business venture. He still owes it! My Mum's afraid to say anything, you know, never come between two brothers. And uncle Mo' keeps saying that he'll pay the money back, twice over...yeah, right! Mum and Dad are effectively inside Mo''s fucking pocket! They're better than that..."

Simran was gradually getting more and more upset. Seema hugged her.

"My Dad is such a good guy at heart," Simran said. "But he's so frustratingly weak. He needs to tell Mo' to fuck the fuck off!"

Seema felt a little overwhelmed with this sudden torrent of new information. She could see why Simran was getting so worked up, though her anger and language shocked her.

"So," said Simran, steel returning to her voice. "I will make sure he pays back what he owes..."

"Ok..." Seema had massive reservations. Mo''s cruel scheming and perverse tastes had left her scared of the man. What would he be willing to do to stop Simran's attempt at blackmail, she wondered.

"I take it you're not sure," Simran said folding her arms.

"It's blackmail~"

"He tried to break us up!" Simran cried. "He uses my pants, takes pictures...shit! Are you saying I'm in the wrong?"

"No Sim," Seema sat up, holding her hands up defensively. "I just think maybe your father can sort it out, maybe we should leave it for him to sort out."

"Have you listened to anything I've said?" Simran shouted. She pulled away and stood up, hands defiantly on her hips.

"Sim...honey..." Seema said, lurching backwards at Simran's sudden anger. Seema's face had flushed a deep red.

"Shit! Shit..." Simran knelt down and hugged Seema tight. "I'm sorry babe, I'm sorry...but, look at what Mo''s doing to us..."

"It's ok...I wasn't having a go at you," Seema said. She wanted to cry. "I don't want you to get into trouble....Mo' scares me."

"He scares me too. But that doesn't change the fact that he tried to break us up and owes my parents money. They're too...too laid back to do anything about it. After all they've done for me over the years, the least I can do is help them get their dues. He needs to pay for what he tried to do to us. Not to mention the unhealthy attitude towards his niece..."

"I know babe...just be careful though, ok?"

"I will, Seem...I'm sorry I shouted."

"It's ok, Sim. You know I'll help you, and stand by you."

"Thanks honey. Look at what Mo' has done altogether. He's spoilt the first days of you and me." Simran cradled Seema's face in her hands. She kissed Seema gently on the lips.

Voices behind them broke the silence. Simran stood up to look. "Finally. The glaziers going. Come on honey."

They took the steps up to the pavement. Seema was still reeling from Simran's shouting as they walked hand in hand back to the house. Simran's father was standing in the doorway, waiting.

#

The kitchen was now draft less, thanks to the new glass in the window. The atmosphere was still a little cold, probably due to Simran grasping Seema's hand and not at all trying to hide it. For a few minutes, there was silence as Simran's father mulled things over.

"Sweetness, I am sorry," he said eventually. He reached for Simran's hand. "You know I don't think it is right, this - ," he waved his hand between Seema and Simran. " - relationship. But...you are obviously happy?"

"Yes Dad, we are," Simran said, squeezing Seema's hand. "Seem is so special to me~"

"Ok, ok..." Simran's father rubbed his eyes. He turned to Seema. "Seema...my daughter is my princess. She means everything to me and her mother, you see?"

Seema nodded. "She means a lot to me, too."

"Yes, yes..." he said impatiently. "You will treat her like a princess, yes?"

"She already does, Dad," Simran interjected. "Look, don't worry about us."

"Ha! You wait until you have children, sweetness," he said. He flushed red, immediately seeing his faux-pas. He cleared his throat. "What I mean is, a parent always worries over the children, you see?"

"Yes Dad. But there was no reason to keep me locked up here. Do you see that?"

Simran's father closed his eyes.

"That really upset me," Simran continued. Her voice wobbled. "It upset Seema too. Do you see that?"

Suddenly, he started weeping. Deep throaty sobs shook the loose bulk of his body. He pressed his hands to his face, hiding himself. Simran stood up and hugged her father, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Though Seema was a little shocked, she could now see why Simran wanted revenge on Mo'. He was responsible for all this upset, and he probably doesn't even care, thought Seema.

"Sweetness, I hope you can forgive me," he said quietly.

"Of course, Dad. But why did you do it?"

"My bloody brother, that's why." Simran's father jerked upright and gesticulated angrily with his hands. "He gave me some mumbo jumbo story about Seema being an...umm...actress...and you and her posing for photographs for some dirty internet website~"

"What!?" chorused Seema and Simran.

"~and that I needed to keep you away from Seema because she was the she-devil incarnate~"

"And you believed him? Shit, Dad!" Seema cried.

"Oh, sweetness, I am so sorry," he said hastily. "He told me he had the photographs to prove it, and he made up a story about me being ill...that is how he got you to leave work?"

"Yes," Simran said testily as a tear dripped down her cheek. "But you believed him! That really hurts, Dad!"

Seema felt numb as she watched Simran and her father. His look of guilt and regret spoke volumes. His eyes filled with tears.

"Sweetness, look..." Simran's father sniffed and fished his mobile 'phone from his pocket. "Apparently, these were the first set of photographs taken for this...website."

Simran grabbed his 'phone and looked at the screen. She closed her eyes. "Aww, blimey Dad," she whimpered and passed the 'phone to Seema. "That was a private moment, a special moment for me and Seem...I don't believe this."

It was a photograph taken of them sat under the tree at the park. They were in the middle of a deep and passionate kiss. Seema flicked through more photos. There was a photo of them kissing outside Seema's flat, and a few photos of them sucking whipped cream off each other's fingers. These were no grainy, blurred pictures taken hastily on a mobile phone, but high quality photos taken with a zoom.

"I knew we were being spied on, Sim," Seema said, almost chuckling at the absurdity of the whole situation. "Jake took these."

She gave the 'phone back to Simran who quickly gave it back to her father as if it was burning hot to the touch.

"Please tell me you realise Mo' is lying..." Simran said, close to sobbing.

"Of course I do...now." He wiped his eyes and glanced at Seema. "And now you tell me you saw my brother ... doing things in my daughters flat?"

"Yes," Seema said flatly. At that moment, she was more concerned about the photos, and where they might end up. This was a whole new problem to worry about as far as Seema was concerned.

Simran's father sighed dejectedly. "He's gone too far this time. We will have to sort this out." His voice was flat, cold and devoid of any emotion.

"How exactly, Dad?" Simran asked sharply. "Uncle Mo' treats you like a bloody lackey, but you never do anything about it. How much money does he owe you? He also spun some story about my inheritance. What is my inheritance exactly?"

Simran's father remained silent and avoided her gaze. Simran gasped in frustration, throwing her hands in the air.

"Look," she said testily. "I love you and Mum very much. I hate seeing you struggle with money, knowing that he owes you thousands. I will sort this out." Simran stood up, grabbed Seema's hand and pulled her up. "Come on honey, let's go."

"Sweetness, wait!" He stood up quickly, panic in his eyes. "What are going to do?"

"I don't know Dad," called Simran as they strode towards the door.

"I don't want you getting into trouble, or getting hurt," he said as he trundled after them.

"Getting hurt," Simran said, spinning around as her father came to her. "Why would I get hurt?"

"Please, let me and your mother sort this out." He cradled Simran's face in his hands, and pleaded. "Please, my sweetness, please."

Simran melted. "Oh Dad...look, don't worry."

"Oh, sweetness," he whispered. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out Simran's purse and car keys. He handed them back to her. "I love you, my sweetness."

"I love you too."

She kissed him on the forehead, turned to open the door and stepped outside into the warm sun, pulling Seema with her. As they strode off along the pavement, Seema looked back over her shoulder to see Simran's father stood forlorn in the doorway.

#

Back at the hotel, they sat in the small bar area and drank a cool iced tea each. They were alone saving for the receptionist, whose duties obviously included serving at the bar; she looked completely bored. On the way back, they had stopped at the cafe and shared a freshly made sandwich and a chat with the kindly old lady. The old lady certainly had a way with people. Simran had calmed considerably.

"I'm sorry Seem," Simran said after she had drained her glass. "It's not normally this dramatic with my family. Honestly!"

Seema chuckled, lacing her fingers through Simran's. "I'm glad things are sort of ok with your Dad."

"Mmm. I can't get my head around why he believes anything Mo' says." She sighed heavily. Simran turned to gaze at Seema. "As honeymoons go, this sucks, right?"

Seema laughed, and looked thoughtful. "A honeymoon...now that's a good idea."

"Mmm. It would be nice for us to have a honeymoon." Simran smiled. She sighed. "I feel better now the air's cleared with Dad. Can you believe what Mo' told him? We're porn stars, apparently! What a total bastard. And what he did in my flat. I don't think I want to sleep in that bed again...or even go back to the flat." She glanced sideways at Seema.

Seema swallowed at the lump in her throat. "Come and live with me..."

"Oh wow Seem...that would be great wouldn't it! But," she paused as her smile faltered. "Maybe after all this is over?"

Seema nodded, happy that the subject had been at least broached. Her heart was beating fast. She changed the subject. "I'm hoping that those pictures aren't on the internet."

"It's only us kissing. At least it's nothing else, you know..."

"True." Seema giggled.

"Talking of which...fancy going up to our room?" Simran said, a cheeky grin on her face.

#

Simran's tongue had easily brought Seema to her climax, flicking and licking slow then quick over just the right places. Ten minutes later with positions reversed, Seema realised her tongue had gone numb.

"Ahhh...damn...don't worry Seem," Simran gasped in frustration. Her body went limp. "I can't come..."

"Sorry honey," Seema said quietly. Her tongue felt like lead and it felt like she had acute lock-jaw. "Am I not doing it right?"

"No, it's not you." Simran pulled at Seema's hands, coaxing her to slide up between her legs. Simran sighed. "I'm all tense...mind's on things...sorry."

Seema kissed her lips. She gently rubbed her mound against Simran's before lifting herself up from between her legs. "Turn over honey. You need a massage," she said, matron-like.

Simran smiled and did as she was told. "Aww, you're the perfect girlfriend."