The Empty Nest Pt. 02

Hi all,

This is chapter two. All chapters were submitted together so they should be close by or posted very soon.

CharlieB4

*****

Three weeks after, I was on a Qantas flight with my three daughters and their spouses. Rachel's sister had a crisis in her husband's family, so she couldn't make it. We had a good trip, catching up on all the things that had been going on in their lives. They were very excited about having a white Christmas. I had to caution them that they were going to the south of France, so that may not happen.

Arriving in Paris twenty two hours later, we went to a hotel I'd organized to get some proper sleep without hostesses waking you up every couple of hours. The next day, we took the four hour trip on the high speed train to Avignon. I got very nervous during the last half hour as Rachel was picking us up from the station. My eldest daughter noticed and leaning over to me she asked if I was okay as I looked a bit pale. I fobbed her off, telling her I was just tired from the travel, but my stomach was doing backflips.

At Avignon railway station, Rachel was standing on the platform waving madly. My youngest daughter was waiting at the door and jumped off to hug her the moment she was able to. My other daughters followed while their husbands and I collected the bags and got them off the train.

There was so much commotion I was able to stand in the background. "Sergeant Major" Rachel marshaled her daughters and their spouses and pointed them towards the exit. Only then, almost as an afterthought, did she come towards me. A quick hug and a kiss on the cheek and she was off again, herding her family out into the car park. I watched her walking away for a moment.

I couldn't deny she looked good. Her hair was short and the gaudy colours were gone. A little grey around the edges was obviously okay in France. A lot of the extra padding she'd had six months ago was gone. I wondered about her diet or exercise regime. No doubt Jaques was helping her with it I thought bitterly. What the bloody hell am I doing here, I thought. Just then my eldest daughter turned around and saw me still standing on the platform.

"Come on slow poke!" She admonished, waving for me to catch up.

A mini bus was parked in the loading zone, beside it stood a tall man with a pudgy middle hanging over his trousers. His face was dominated by a large hook nose, and a battered Fedora sat on an unruly mess of dark hair. Rachel began introducing everybody to Jacques. At last, I was meeting my nemesis, or perhaps my savior. He kissed my daughters on both cheeks bringing excited giggles and shook my son-in-laws' hands.

Then it was my turn, we stood close together and exchanged firm grips. We stared each other down, looking for clues in each other's faces. I released my hold first, pretending to wince as he gave one last squeeze. He smiled, I detected a hint of satisfaction or was it triumph. He turned away and moved to the driver's door of the mini bus.

In the mini bus we designated the back seat for our bags then took our seats. Jacques motioned for Rachel to join him up front. She hesitated but followed his direction. He mumbled something in French to her as she sat down and cast a dismissive glance at me.

It didn't worry me - sometimes it was good to be underestimated. On the trip to Rachel's villa she played tour guide, pointing out various points of interest. I mostly ignored it, since French stuff wasn't very appealing to me at the moment.

Eventually, we pulled into a driveway with large, automatic wrought-iron gates that looked new, or at least rejuvenated. It was bounded by trees on both sides that made it seem like a tunnel. After about one hundred and fifty metres, it opened up into a circular drive in front of an imposing two story stone building. Inside the circle, there were many newly planted beds of roses; their bare stems waiting for the warmth of spring to come to life.

"Welcome to La Mas Bleus!" Rachel gushed, standing up in the aisle of the bus and spreading her arms wide.

We got out and collected our bags before heading to the large wooden front door. It didn't look much from the outside. I found out later that because of its heritage value they had to keep the façade, but once inside it was a different story. Opulent and luxurious may be one description, gaudy and ostentatious another. Polished concrete and marble were everywhere, softened only by occasional timber features and rugs. Antique furniture shared space with modern electronics. It reminded me of a bordello. How do I know of such things? One of my clients runs a couple, and he was looking to expand one into the house next door. He took me on a tour so I could do the figures on his potential costs to convert the adjoining premises.

The garden out the back was more refined. There must have been the bones of one before, so it had just been cleaned up and some plants replaced. However, off to the left my wife's hand was again evident. A large, and I mean large, pool had been gouged into a grassed area. Obviously the one that I'd seen in the photographs when Rachel bought the place must have been too small. By my steps, it must be thirty metres by eight metres. Behind it was a construction site, a cabana Rachel called it. I'd seen smaller two bedroom townhouses.

The girls were gushing, already planning return trips for the northern summer. I now had more of an idea where some of the money had gone. We went back inside, where Rachel showed my daughters and their spouses to their rooms. I stayed in the main living area, unsure where my bed would be located. Jacques had left with the mini bus which was a relief, no more looks of disdain.

My wife came back; it was the first time we had been alone since our holiday from which she had never returned.

"So, Jeffrey, what do you think?"

"It looks wonderful," I replied diplomatically. "It must have cost a lot."

"Oh Jeffrey, Why do you always have to bring up money! We have got heaps of the stuff!" she scolded. "Anyway, Jacques has been getting me lots of things wholesale, and he made sure the tradesmen didn't rip me off. So, I actually saved money!"

Some things never change, only my wife could save money by spending it!

"Follow me," she continued, "our rooms this way."

We headed off to a different wing of the house from where the children were staying. After going through a short hallway, we came to a huge room with more lounges and tables. A staircase went up to the next level on one wall. Climbing the stairs led us to the master bedroom. It had one entire wall of glass that overlooked the garden, and then there was the bed. I have seen king-sized beds before, but this was bigger with four large posts on each corner. A toilet, shower, and bath were hidden behind a stud wall near the staircase. There was another wall behind the bed with a door either side. These opened into large his and hers walk in wardrobes.

"Wow!" I spluttered.

"Fantastic, isn't it!"

"Unbelievable. Doesn't it get a bit bright in the mornings?" I asked.

Rachel had obviously been expecting this question. She picked up a remote and pressed a button, and blinds that were recessed into the ceiling making them invisible rolled down leaving the room in darkness.

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, I've thought of everything. I'll leave you to unpack while I supervise Juliet making the evening meal."

She pressed the button again and the blinds began to rise. By the time they had finished, she was gone. I went into the walk in and felt inadequate. The contents of my bag barely filled two drawers. I hung my good suit then went in search of everybody else. They were in the main living area drinking some wine. We toasted our good fortune then sat down to lovely meal. Jet lag combined with a few drinks had us turning in early while Rachel stayed downstairs to clean up.

I went up and had a shower then got into bed. It was incredible how big this bed was. Five adults could lie down and not be touching each other. It had to be custom made, as must be the mattress and the linen. I was asleep in no time and didn't notice Rachel coming to bed. For all I know she didn't, as twelve hours later she shook me awake.

"Time to get up, Jeffrey, your first tour starts in forty minutes."

I opened my eyes to see Rachel sitting on the bed. She ruffled my hair and I almost thought she was going to kiss me, but she didn't.

"Have a shower and meet the rest of us downstairs. The children are having breakfast." She got up and hurried down the stairs.

After a shower, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The rest of the family was talking excitedly about the coming day. Workman swarmed over the worksite next to the pool. Rachel saw me gazing out the window at them.

"They are trying to get it ready for Christmas. I've got a few other people coming for Christmas and Boxing Day."

"Oh." I was noncommittal, my daughters were excited enough for me.

"I've organized some sightseeing for the next couple of days. I'm going to be busy making sure these guys keep working." Rachel didn't seem to notice my indifference.

"Is Jacques taking us?" I inquired.

"No, he is too busy, but he has got someone else to take you. Hurry up and eat some breakfast! The bus will be here any minute."

I sat down and Juliet put down an overflowing plate of food. I wondered how much it was costing having an obviously talented cook on hand for three meals a day. As I was just mopping up the last of my meal an elegant woman entered the kitchen and greeted my wife with a kiss on each cheek.

Rachel clapped her hands to get everybody's attention. "Everybody, Everybody! Shhh, this is Yvonne. She will be showing you around for the next couple of days."

"Hello!" Yvonne said brightly, waving briefly in greeting.

Rachel went through the introductions and then ordered us onto the bus. So started what would have been days of tedious trips to roman ruins, cathedrals and markets except for Yvonne. She was bright and bubbly and beautiful. Insisting I sit up front with her, her sexy French accent was captivating. She was petite, almost doll like, with delicate features and always immaculately dressed. I found myself looking forward to seeing that bus pull up to the house in the morning.

On our last tour day, we were in a market in a little village around lunchtime. My daughters were dragging their husbands between stalls while I sat in a cafe overlooking the market square with Yvonne.

"Have you enjoyed your three days with me?" she purred.

"Very much so, what's on the itinerary for the rest of the day?"

"I think we have had enough of towns and cathedrals, so I have organized with some vineyards for tours and tastings."

"Sounds fantastic."

"Then we are meeting up with Rachel for dinner in a local restaurant."

"And tomorrow?" I asked expectantly.

"No tours tomorrow, it's Christmas Eve, time for family things!"

"Ohhh" I couldn't hide my disappointment. I had a sip of my coffee.

Yvonne leaned towards me and touched my arm. She was that sort of woman, she liked to make contact with the person she was speaking to, and I enjoyed being touched by her.

"Jeffrey, could I ask you a personal question?"

"Certainly."

"Do you and Rachel, how you say, umm, live separate lives?" She leaned even closer for the last bit. Her perfume encircled me.

"Er, no, no. Er No."

She sat back. "Shame."

I may have had thoughts of what it would be like to be intimate with Yvonne, but I would never have guessed these feelings would be reciprocated.

The afternoon activities became torture as every stroke and touch from Yvonne had a whole new inference. We were standing at a bench tasting wines and her hand brushed close to my groin. Before I would have put it down as an accident, now the glint in her eye told a different story. The last vineyard had a large crowd already there. My daughters got lost in the crowd, fighting their way to get a chance to taste the wine. I hung back and so did Yvonne. Taking my hand, she pulled me outside into a garden around behind a tall hedge.

"Kiss me, Jeffrey. I need to feel your arms around me!" She said fiercely.

I didn't move. I wanted to, but I didn't move. Taking the initiative, Yvonne grabbed my face and placed her lips on mine. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth and I started to respond. Putting my arms around her I pulled her close captivated by her taste and smell. Yvonne's hands moved down from my face, one rested on my shoulder. The other made its way down further, cupping my growing erection

Reality struck when I heard voices as some other people had come out into the garden. Pushing Yvonne away gently, I broke our embrace.

"We can't do this! It's madness!" I whispered urgently.

"I want you, mon cheri!" She tried to get close to me again, but I moved back further.

"I'm married! My children are only thirty feet away!"

"You want me! I know you do, I felt it! I have an apartment near the restaurant tonight. After the entree say you are feeling sick and need to go home. I will take you home... eventually." As she spoke she moved back towards me. By the time she had finished speaking, we were embracing again.

We kissed again. "I can't, I would love to but I can't."

"You can! It's our only chance, soon it's Christmas and then you will be leaving. Please, I need you."

I heard my daughter's voice close by. Disengaging from Yvonne, I stepped back around the hedge.

"Oh there you are! What have you been up to?" my daughter asked.

"Yvonne was just showing me the garden," I replied as I tried unsuccessfully to act casual. I felt my face flush under my daughters gaze.

"Anyone would think you were up to something!" she replied with the hint of accusation.

Then she laughed, I suppose the thought of me doing something rash was a joke. Grabbing my arm, she led me back into the cellar door.

"Come on, there is a lovely red I want you to try."

I tried not to be alone with Yvonne after that, but when we arrived at the village restaurant for dinner my family got out leaving us sitting in the front of the minivan. Yvonne grabbed my hand.

"Remember, after entrée, complain about feeling unwell!" She squeezed my hand then got out herself.

Inside the restaurant, Rachel was already seated next to a woman I didn't know. At the end of the table sat the ubiquitous Jacques. They all stood as we approached and Rachel began the introductions. The other woman was tall and thick set; large breasted, well large everywhere, but not flabby. A pleasant face with neatly styled hair, I guessed about forty.

"Jeffrey, this is Mandy. She's from London and Jacques is helping her look for a place in Provence. I invited her to have Christmas with us."

Bloody hell, could it be my PI?

"Nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand.

"And you, too." Mandy replied. Grabbing my hand, she pulled me closer for the French greeting of a kiss on each cheek. "Hi Sugar daddy," she whispered when she went in for the second peck.

Had she betrayed my confidence to Rachel? I didn't think she would, but seeing her here really threw me. I went to the bathrooms to try and get things straight in my head. After splashing some cold water on my face and getting my heart rate back under control, I was going back to the table when a big meaty arm dragged me into the disabled toilet.

"We haven't got long, so just listen! Stay away from Yvonne, it's a honey trap!" Mandy whispered.

"W...Wh...What's a honey trap?" I stammered, still getting over the surprise attack.

"The apartment is bugged and has cameras set up. Rachel wants you to be the guilty party," Mandy explained.

"But it won't make any difference in a divorce. Australia has no fault divorces."

"She is not worried about the law. Rachel is thinking about her family, particularly your daughters."

"So she means to end the marriage?" I asked with my head down.

"Yes, she is going to tell you just before you leave. When you get home they have instructed a law firm in Sydney to start proceedings. Seems they are keen to find out how much money you have left!"

"They?" I knew the answer.

"Jacques and Rachel."

"And how do you know all this? Did she tell you?"

"No, no. We are not that close. I planted a bug in Jacques office when I met him before. It's only a little one with no recording capabilities, but if you are within fifty yards you can pick up the conversations in an ear piece. I came over two days ago and have been drinking lots of coffee in the cafe under his office."

"Oh god, what a mess."

"Pull yourself together and get back out there before they come looking for you." Mandy was turning me to face the door.

"But what do I do?" I asked helplessly.

"That's up to you, but I'd stay away from Yvonne unless you want four angry family members on Boxing Day!"

"Boxing Day?"

"That is when it is all supposed to happen. Jacques accuses you of cheating with Yvonne. If you deny it they have proof from the apartment. Rachel asks you to leave and Jacques, her dear friend, comforts her. Your daughters think you're a sleazy scumbag!"

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I slumped down on the toilet seat.

"Snap out of it, Jeffrey. Just stay away from Yvonne, and then play it by ear." She pulled me to my feet. "Get back out there and calm down."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'm going to the toilet, so you are definitely leaving!"

She pushed me out into the corridor and I made my way back to the table. Staying away from Yvonne proved difficult. The only spare seat apart from Mandy's was next to her. I started in the direction of Mandy's seat when Rachel stopped me.

"Over next to Yvonne, Jeffrey," she commanded and I obeyed. "You look a little pale are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, it's just been a long day," I replied as I sat down next to Yvonne.

The next hour was hell. Yvonne's wandering hands were all over me under the table. It was hard to eat the entree and fight her off at the same time. If not for the warning I would have been flattered by the attention, but now I knew it was fake. When the main came out I noticed the looks Yvonne was getting from both Jacques and Rachel. They must be wondering why we hadn't made our excuses and left. Rachel tried to intercede.

"Jeffrey, you don't look very well. You have a long flight home soon. Maybe Yvonne could take you home and you could get an early night?"

"No, I'm fine dear," I said cheerfully. "Doesn't this dinner look great?"

"Eat up and I will take you home after," Yvonne said huskily, as she tried to rub my leg.

"No, there'll be plenty of time to sleep on the plane home."

I made it through the rest of the meal unscathed and thought they had given up, but they tried again. The bus had been full but for one seat for the tour, but now there were two others to get back to the house; Mandy and Rachel. Rachel took charge again.

"Jeffrey, could you stay here and wait for the second trip? Jacques will drive and when he has dropped the rest of us off he will come and get you. Yvonne can keep you company." The first part was framed as a question, but it was meant as an order.

I was speechless. Mandy tried to help.

"It's all right, Rachel, I'll stay," she said.

"Nonsense! You're my guest," Rachel blustered, shepherding Mandy towards the bus door.

"James and I will stay," my eldest daughter said, pointing to her husband. "You've been telling Dad that he looks off color all night. It won't be very good for him to stand around here for forty minutes."

Rachel was about to argue, but she could see it was futile. Her daughter was too much like her and her mind was made up. I sat up the back and pretended to sleep while I watched Rachel and Jacques in animated discussion up the front. They were speaking French so no one else could understand them. Just before we got home they lapsed into silence, too. Once at the house I quickly retreated to the bedroom and had a shower. I was about to get into bed when the door opened and Rachel entered. It looked like she had steeled herself and the time had come.