Student Support Ch. 01

"Maggie," I called after her. "I'm sorry... it's all right."

I heard her carry on down the stairs and then the front door open and slam shut. I pulled the covers over my head and tried to pretend none of that had just happened.

**

Text message:

Maggie – really sorry. Was taken by surprise. Didn't mean to shout at you. Let's try and pretend it didn't happen.

Her:

My fault. I'm stupid. Sorry.

Me:

Not stupid, but unfortunate timing. Water under the bridge, ok?

No reply from her. I felt bad. I'd really roared at her, a furious expletive-filled bellow that I couldn't remember ever using before. And it had been a sweet thought of hers, though not a very well thought-out one.

I stared at my silent phone, willing it to buzz back and show a reply from her. Nothing.

After a long pause I wrote a text.

Cookies were delicious. Just like you said.

I thought for a moment. Hesitated. Then I tapped once more. Sometimes it's a single character that can make a difference. And maybe, maybe, everything would have gone very differently if I hadn't added it.

Cookies were delicious. Just like you said. x

Another long wait. Then my phone buzzed. Just a single character, a small, smiley emoji.

Phew.

**

Much later than I'd planned, I tackled the plates, dishes and laundry. Then I wiped down all the surfaces and vacuumed throughout. It was a warm, sunny day and I threw open all the windows and doors to freshen the place up and keep myself cool at the same time. I kept Maggie's cookies on their plate within easy reach and I rewarded myself with one after each task was finished. They weren't bad at all.

I was debating whether or not to strip the covers off the sofa and armchairs and wash those as well when I became aware that Maggie was standing in the open doorway.

"Hey!" I said a little more cheerfully than I felt. "Come in!"

She stepped cautiously and a little nervously into the room. She looked around.

"You've been busy," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "My daughter is completely perfect, of course, but she's also an untidy, messy, lazy pig who I will probably kill and bury in the garden." I smiled as I said it to reassure her that I was at least partly joking.

"I got an A." she said.

"Sorry?"

"For my project, that you helped with. I got an A... with a distinction, actually."

"Hey, that's great!" I walked over without thinking and gave her a quick hug. She smelt delicious. Then I rather awkwardly retreated, nearly falling over the vacuum cleaner as I did so.

"They gave them back yesterday. So I thought I'd come and say thank you. I knew Charlie had left the house in a mess and I know where the keys are and thought it would be nice if I cleaned up and got you breakfast and..."

I held up my hand to stop her.

"There's no need for you to do that, but thank you. I'm sorry I shouted. Like I said, water under the bridge, OK?"

She nodded. There was a slightly awkward silence.

"Look," I said, pointing. "Only two cookies left."

"You really like them?"

"They're great. Really nice. So – thank you."

She smiled and brightened up a bit. "Anything left I can help with?"

"No... I think you've timed it just right. Everything is done, apart from maybe stripping and washing these seat covers. Which can probably wait. Though actually..." I peered at them. "We do seem to have acquired some strange looking stains. Possibly new to science."

"Chocolate sauce," said Maggie. "Sorry. We had milkshakes."

"Ah," I said. "I'm almost relieved. And this one?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Vanilla... or maybe the salted caramel."

"You are a mine of information," I said. "Stripping it is. Er, let's strip the covers off, I mean."

I busied myself so she wouldn't see me blushing.

When they were in the machine we were at somewhat of a conversational impasse again.

"So... thanks," I said. "They'll take a few hours. I'll put them in the dryer tonight, and we should be all set for tomorrow. Then Charlie can come home and you girls can pour something else on them."

She nodded. She didn't seem in any hurry to go.

"So, I'll see you during the week perhaps," I said.

She nodded again, still not moving. Teenagers, eh?

"What are you going to do now?" she asked suddenly.

I looked at the clock. Five pm.

"I'm going to have a beer," I said. "And then make myself some dinner. If Charlie's left me anything edible in the fridge, that is. I know we have broccoli, at least. I bought a ton of it last week."

"You've got some potatoes and a steak and some milk," said Maggie. "But the milk's a bit out of date and I think the steak has been there a while. And we ate all the broccoli on Thursday."

"Oh. Well. Glad it wasn't wasted. Then... I guess I will phone for some pizza," I said. "Luckily I'm not having a no carbs week."

Again, a slightly blank reaction. My jokes just weren't landing today. She seemed to be making up her mind about something.

"I'd like some pizza," she said, finally.

I should have made her go home. But I'd already upset her once today and I didn't want a repeat of that. Plus – you know this, I'm sure – I wanted her to stay.

We decided we'd share a large pizza but we'd have half each customised to our preferred toppings. She went for extra cheese, pineapple and sweetcorn, which I thought was unspeakable. I went for pepperoni, beef and spicy chicken with barbeque sauce, which she thought was revolting. We also agreed that we'd try one slice of each other's in the interests of broadening our horizons and becoming more rounded, open-minded individuals. Neither of us changed our minds as a result. Pineapple just shouldn't go on pizza.

While we ate, we watched a movie. I made sure to grab the chair so there was no danger of her sitting next to me on the sofa. I did steal a few covert glances at her though. She was in shorts and a halter top and wore some complicated strappy shoes that, for all my years of education, would have defeated me if I'd had to put them on. She looked very young and a little vulnerable and utterly desirable.

"What are you going to do tomorrow?" she asked as the movie ended.

"Well," I said. "I should probably go to the supermarket and fill up the fridge again. Any special requests?"

"No broccoli. We're a bit sick of that."

I glared at her in mock irritation and she smiled. We were friends once more, it seemed.

And then it all went off the rails again.

"Do you want me to bring you a tray tomorrow morning?"

"Er, best not," I said firmly.

She pondered.

"This morning... when I came into your room..."

I closed my eyes.

"...were you going to... you know?"

"You should go home," I said, opening them again but not looking at her. "I enjoyed your company, your taste in pizza is revolting, you're a dear girl and a good friend to Charlie. Let's not spoil anything."

"Were you thinking about me?"

"No," I said, firmly and quite truthfully. I hadn't got as far as thinking about who would feature in my fantasy that morning. Could it have been Maggie? Possibly. Oh – what the hell. Yes, probably it would have been. But no way I was going to tell her that.

"Oh," she said. "Of course you wouldn't be. I'm not really very attractive, am I?"

"Maggie – you are. But... I don't think of you that way."

Ooh, you big liar.

She looked at me. "Really? Never?"

"No."

"I think about you that way. When I... you know. I think about you."

There are moments in all our lives, in our sexual lives, which linger forever in the memory. Maggie telling me that she sometimes masturbated thinking about me is one of mine.

"Maggie, please go home."

I stood up to take her hand and pull her up off the sofa. Unfortunately, that meant she got a direct view of my crotch. And I suddenly realised I was very hard indeed, and that fact was obvious to even the most casual observer.

Maggie looked at my crotch, then at my face, then back at my crotch. A shy smile crept over her face.

"You do think of me that way!" she said softly. "I really hoped you did."

"Go home," I said. "Please Maggie."

She nodded, got up, walked to the door. Then she turned and faced me.

"I know you're worried and everything," she said. "You being so ancient and me being so young and how that makes you a bad person. But it really doesn't."

I didn't say anything. I'm not sure I had anything to say, except "so ancient" was a bit harsh.

"But it's going to be fun," she said. "And lovely and great and you're going to be glad."

Then she left. Leaving me to wonder what the hell she meant by all that.

I looked down at my shorts. My erection clearly didn't share my sense of dismay. It was delighted.

**

I slept badly that night. I was worried and anxious and incredibly sexually frustrated. I knew I should try and give myself release but some perverse part of me refused to do so. If I did that I knew I would end up thinking about Maggie. And that would be bad, another step closer to that slippery slope that could only end badly.

I fell asleep around three and dozed intermittently until about eight. I stared groggily at the ceiling and wondered what the hell I was going to do.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. Incoming text message.

It was a photo. From Maggie. She was in her underwear, posing in front of the mirror. Skimpy, lacy blue underwear. It was badly lit, rather awkwardly posed, generally amateurish. And she looked sensational.

Hi. Hope this is in time. Enjoy your morning... exercise! Xxxxxx

Jesus H Christ on a Fucking Pogo Stick.

What a good, decent man would have done is delete the photo and then gone around to her house and spoken to her parents and explained that Maggie had a crush on me and I didn't want it to get out of hand. It would be humiliating on all sides and Charlie would be mortified and probably never speak to Maggie again but that would have been the right thing to do.

I did think about that. For five whole minutes.

Then I jerked myself off, staring hungrily at the photo as I did so.

As I came I imagined I was spurting into Maggie's perfect mouth.

**

I didn't reply to her message. Nor did any more follow that day. I went to the supermarket in the morning. Charlie came home in the afternoon, we had words about my expectations regarding washing-up and laundry and milk-shake stains on the chairs, she said I was a cute grumpy old bear and she would absolutely be better in the future and was there any food in the fridge? It was pretty much like any other Sunday. Almost.

I asked casually if Maggie was coming over and Charlie said no, she had to go out with her parents to some family thing. I was disappointed and relived.

**

The following morning my phone buzzed again. A little earlier, around 7.

Another selfie from Maggie. She'd lost the bra this time, but was covering her breasts with one arm while holding the camera with another. I could see her breasts were full and luscious and I desperately wanted to see more of them.

Hi! Your morning wake-up call! Thinking of you! Xxx

This time as I came I imagined Maggie pinned beneath me, long legs spread wide, her hair cascading over the pillow, her arms around me as I fucked her savagely.

Before I went to work I forwarded the photos to my PC, saved them to an encrypted file, then deleted them from my phone. I didn't know what the hell I was going to do. I wasn't in control any more. But as long as it was just photos, that couldn't be too bad, was it? It wasn't like I was encouraging her, was I?

I knew it was wrong. But... part of me also felt the most alive I'd felt in years.

**

No selfie the next morning. Just a short text.

No more until you send me a message! Xxxx

My reply:

Maggie, no more photos or I will have to speak to your parents. Please stop.

Her reply was another selfie, just a head and shoulder shot. She had her finger in her mouth and was gazing straight into the camera.

Guess I'll have to risk it. Wish this was your finger!? Or something! Xxx

Damn it.

Did I speak to her parents? Take a wild guess.

**

Next morning:

I'll send a really good one. But you have to send me a kiss.

I lasted all of five minutes.

X

Her reply was almost immediate. She must have had it ready, confident little madam that she was. It took my breath away. She was topless, breasts revealed, wearing a tiny pair of bikini panties. Her body was even better than I'd dreamed of.

Do you like my body? Really hope so.

There was something rather sweet and vulnerable about that. Even the most beautiful girl sometimes lacks confidence, it seems, and needs to be reassured. It shouldn't be me doing the reassuring, but since I was already in this deep...

Maggie, you're beautiful. Amazingly so. But this has to stop.

Her reply:

I'm so glad you like it. Looking forward to tomorrow! Have a great day. Xxxx

**

The next few weeks were strange yet exciting. Maggie came over as often as she usually did, sometimes with Liz, sometimes not, she studied with Charlie and raided the fridge and I could hear them laughing and to the casual observer there was nothing different at all. She was a great actress. I'm sure I was more on edge around her but Charlie didn't seem to notice anything and Maggie never gave the slightest hint that anything was going on.

And each morning, Maggie would send me a photo. They grew progressively more revealing and erotic. Every third day or so would she would demand that I at least send her a message back, which I would do, though usually it was some feeble variation on We Really Shouldn't Be Doing This. Which she never acknowledged and, thank god, my next photo would arrive within a few minutes and later that day would be added to my secret stash on my PC.

Then the blow fell.

Charlie's mother announced she was moving further away. And where she was going there was a very good college that Charlie decided she really should switch to – they had one of the best English programmes in the country and that was Charlie's thing. So it made perfect sense for the arrangements to swap around, that Charlie would go and live with her mother and come and see me now again rather than the other way around. It was logical and probably only fair and it nearly broke my heart.

Suddenly everything was a flurry of packing and goodbye parties and promises to keep in touch. The rest of the summer just seemed to whiz by. I think the world for all of us was rocking on its axis. I felt a deep emptiness growing inside me. For all my complaining, my daughter was a source of my energy and inspiration. And Maggie and Liz and her other friends fed that too, in a different way. Although I was an outsider, I'd always been a small part of their gang.

The selfies stopped abruptly. I think Maggie was as heartbroken as I was. They'd been friends for more than ten years, and had always been entwined in each other's lives. So I wasn't surprised when they stopped, and I don't think I was really in the mood to have appreciated them anyway.

**

And then Charlie was gone, with many promises to come and see me loads and loads and she'd message me every day until I was sick of her and besides she knew I would be delighted to finally have a tidy, clean house with food in it. I hugged her and pecked her cheek and gave her some money over some unconvincing protests and then she was gone.

After the car disappeared I went inside, got myself a beer, and sat on the sofa. I'm a free man, I thought, I can do anything I want now. She's her mother's problem. The world is my oyster.

I looked down and saw the faint shadows left on the covers by the chocolate sauce stains, and I cried.

**

I threw myself into my work. I joined a gym. I took up jogging for a while, realised I hated it, and got myself a new bike instead. I would cycle for hours, just aimlessly and apparently endlessly, not getting back to the house until late at night. Just enough time for a quick snack and shower and then the escape of sleep. I don't remember being particularly sad. Just numb.

After about three weeks Charlie came home on a visit. She said she wanted to spend time with me on my own but I knew she'd enjoy it more if her friends were there too. So I got her to invite Maggie and Liz over and it was still just about warm enough to have a barbeque outside, though the girls snuggled under a blanket on the swing chair, chattering and giggling while they watched me cook.

"You're too thin, Daddy," said Charlie, disapprovingly.

"I miss your cooking," I said. Charlie was possibly the worst cook in the world.

"Very funny. But you haven't been eating, have you?"

"Of course I've been eating. But I tell you one great thing about not having you here, sweetie, is that I'm no longer tempted by things like half a dozen tubs of ice cream in the freezer, all of them opened, all of them having two tiny scoops taken out of the top, and then just abandoned."

"It was you who ate all our ice cream?" Maggie, accusing.

"It had been there for months!"

"We were saving it!"

"For what? Your retirement?"

"You can't trust anybody," sighed Maggie. "The ice cream thief, unveiled at last."

"Well, I'm going to buy some more ice cream before I go," said Charlie. "You're skinny. I don't want a skinny Dad."

"I think he looks OK," said Maggie.

"Wow," I said. "Thanks a bunch Mags. You look completely OK too."

"Hey, I'm on your side! What do you think Liz? Too skinny or just right?"

Liz looked a little embarrassed. "I think he looks... good. And besides, we're always being told that we should never worry about our weight or our looks or our body image, so if he's happy with the way he is, we should support him in that decision."

"Liz," I said fondly, "you are definitely getting the least burnt burger."

Charlie looked at Maggie and pointed at me. "Mags - you're in charge of keeping an eye on Dad from now on. Ice cream, pasta, lots of cake and biscuits. He's wasting away."

"It would be a pleasure," said Maggie. She looked at me, and I could see a slight glint in her eye. My stomach gave a delicious little lurch. "I'll make sure he's completely taken care of."

**

This time Charlie going away felt a little easier, a little less painful. The bond between us was still there and I knew she'd always be my little girl, even if I would inevitably now see less and less of her as the years progressed. For all our faults, her mother and I had done a good job with her.

A few days after she'd gone, I arrived home late as usual. I let myself in and was immediately struck by an appetising smell coming from the kitchen. Investigation revealed a pot of beef and carrot stew on the stove, with some dumplings keeping warm in the oven. There was a note on the table.

"Just following orders. Hope this is good. Found the recipe on YouTube! M xxx"

There was no sign of Maggie. She must have let herself in – the spare key was still hidden in the same place – prepared the food, cooked it, waited until it was done, then set it up all ready like this and let herself out.

I got myself a bowl and served myself out a portion. Then I had a second. It was better than good, it was delicious. Bless you Maggie, I thought. And bless you Charlie.

I sent a her a text:

Wow. That was great! Thank god for YouTube. Seriously, thank you. No need for you to do that but really appreciated. CD.

She must have been waiting for it, because her reply was almost instant.

So pleased you like it. It was fun. See you soon! Xx