The Irish Girl

Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.

Mark Twain.

There's a lot of advice out there about how to attract the eye of that special someone. It ranges from the usual beauty and personal grooming tips down to deeper things like attitude but while some of that advice is good and a lot is just plain rubbish, one thing I look for in a potential partner is a kind heart or more simply kindness.

The country where I spent the first ten years of my life has been torn apart for the last five years by hatred, it spirals outwards, infecting neighbouring countries with its cancer as refugees flee the terror, only to meet a wall of hatred and bigotry. Every now and then some person commits a random act of kindness and it gets tweeted and shared around the globe. People ask why can't we have more of that? And others pour scorn on the act as if screaming loudly will destroy the random act of kindness. My stepmother says if humans committed as many acts of kindness as acts of terror we could stand down all the armies and put the generals into retirement homes.

Dania was born in Syria and for the first ten years or so she was just my dad's interpreter. Dad worked with the Foreign Office in Damascus, I was born to Alistair and Catriona Henderson in a Damascus hospital. I was brought to Britain at the age of six months when my parents came home for Christmas but the next time I came back to Britain was in 2005.

Mum had just died the week before when she tripped on a rug at home and fell down. Her head struck the coffee table and she died from a fractured skull and bleeding on the brain. It's one of those silly accidents you read about on page ten and after reading it you flip over to the crossword page and forget all about it.

Coming to terms with life in Britain was tough for me, which sounds odd because I actually am a British citizen by birth. I have my mother's dark colouring and black hair though but my accent has a slight foreign twang to it. I also inherited her poor eyesight and have worn glasses since I was quite young. My birth certificate says I was born in Damascus and when dad returned with my mother's body to lay her to rest, he arranged to have Dania return with him to become the nanny. In the tradition of the best love stories, these two became lovers and then married when I was twelve, which led to racial abuse at school.

It was a combination of all those things that led to my botched suicide attempt not long after dad and Dania tied the knot, a handful of headache tablets just made me puke but it was a cry for help that drove Dania to enrol me in a local horse riding school. She'd seen me staring at the riders making their way along a country lane.

Sian was a volunteer tutor at the school, I knew her from high school but she was a year ahead of me and always hanging out with her friends so we'd never spoken. I remember the attention she paid to me that first day, taking time to get me mounted and leading the horse around a pen as she asked about life in general. She was one of five girls in an Irish household and I warmed to her because she was a foreigner like me, at least that's how she put it. Her father's family were Protestant and her mother's were staunch Catholics and they'd moved from Belfast to Liverpool years ago to try and start a normal life.

One side of the family wouldn't talk to the other side or even acknowledge their existence, Sian's parents were persona non grata for betraying the code. That kind of bigotry either produces more bigotry in the children or it hardens them against bigotry. In Sian's case, it made her embrace a more progressive and enlightened lifestyle. She deliberately cultivated friends from different cultures and avoided the posh kids at school.

She used to talk to Dania a lot for that first year, she wanted to know more about Syria, a country that in those days existed on the periphery of acceptability, ruled by a dictator who was both feared and respected by Western governments. Now that she was dad's wife, Dania's tongue had loosened somewhat, she told of secret police and the disappeared. Sian talked of the bitter divide between Catholic and Protestant and being forbidden from speaking her native tongue.

I found much in common with Sian. Like me, she was in a strange country, outwardly she looked like she blended in. On the inside she struggled with the old stereotypes of the hard drinking, fast living, deeply religious Irish.

You could say that I fell in love with Sian the first day I saw her but that's romantic bullshit, I was only thirteen years old and going through puberty. I did however gravitate towards her, she became the girl I wanted to be most like when I was older. Sian had a quiet confidence about her that seemed to fill the space between us. I did develop a crush on her when she went to Sixth Form college at Birkenhead but that wasn't unusual. Like any normal teenager I had weekly crushes on different people from kids my own age to teachers.

To be honest the first time I acknowledged any feelings towards Sian was when she went away to Australia on a gap year. Absence makes the heart grow fonder as they say, but I followed her progress from Sydney to Melbourne, a brief few weeks in Adelaide and then north east to the Gold Coast and Brisbane. I liked her picture in front of Uluru and that was the time she came out as gay. It would have shocked me a few years previously. But the most disturbing thing for me was actually liking the idea of her being gay.

That was when I first started questioning my sexuality. It's a minefield when you're at high school especially these days. People are so P.C it's embarrassing, and then you have the old stereotypical names that are flung at you. I never admitted I was questioning it to anyone because I wanted to avoid the bullshit and get on with my studies.

Even after I graduated from high school I still managed to sidestep sex for a very good reason. By then I was a regular at gymkhana events and as any horse owner knows, a horse requires regular exercise and attention. It kind of sabotages any sexual liaisons. I was always out riding and by the time I turned eighteen I was riding competition in dressage events. For me it's where I'm most at peace. It's just me and the horse working as one to execute a series of manoeuvres. The first time I ever did it I was as nervous as hell but I soon became better at it and by the time I turned sixteen it had become second nature to me.

Sometimes after a show I would have girlfriends or Dania tell me that a certain guy was paying extra attention to me, now and then they'd even come up to say hello but I never got past the smiling stage even when I turned eighteen. By that stage I was a seasoned performer who could be counted on to put on a good performance without faltering but all that changed the moment Sian returned from Australia.

I'd heard she was back a few weeks prior, but then someone told me she'd gone back to Belfast to see a cousin. I checked her Facebook page but nothing had been added for a month, the last picture showed her in front of the Opera House with some woman who could have been a girlfriend for all I knew. The message read.

Last day in Sydney.

The first time I saw her again was when I was taking part in a gymkhana not far from home. I'd almost pulled out at the last moment because I'd enrolled in an introductory course for veterinary science and the workload was quite a lot but for some reason I found myself agreeing. It was close to home and I could always catch up on some homework after the show. My Saturday nights were pretty dull, after watching Strictly or The Voice, I'd retire to my bedroom to work through yet another assignment.

I didn't see Sian until I was halfway through my routine, she'd been hemmed in by several people but then she managed to get to the front and I lost concentration. She was wearing a white shirt, tan trousers, jacket and boots. The wind had caught her hair and blown it across her face because she swept it aside quickly and I felt my heart skip a beat. She's always been a beautiful girl, but that day she looked ravishing and by the time I recovered, my horse was showing signs of hesitation. Mischief is aptly named because he likes mischief, and if I'm not careful he flicks his tail or dips his head at the wrong moment. I was able to bring him under control but I knew I'd made a few mistakes. Nevertheless, I did finish my routine and wound up with a score of 8, one down from my usual 9. Sian met me in a holding yard where I was brushing Mischief down. She reached out to touch his forehead and he whinnied with pleasure as she scratched it.

"He's looking good."

"So are you," I replied, "you distracted me out there."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have waved, it's an Irish thing."

I laughed at the familiar joke and she moved a little closer.

"I've missed this so much."

"Are you going to get back in the saddle again?"

"It's been on me mind," she replied, "I've applied to university to do an arts degree."

"I'm doing veterinary science."

"So you'll be sticking your arm up a cow's arse."

I laughed at that.

"So, you went back to Belfast."

"Ah, Belfast," she chuckled, "I've got family all over Belfast but ma's side have decided I'm now a spawn of Satan, I should have cut me horns off before I flew out."

"But then they'd see your forked tail."

"Well there is that and all," she smiled, "silly people singing silly songs the lot of them. Dad's lot are just as bad but my cousin was the one I wanted to see anyway."

"Which cousin?"

"Saoirse or as she used to be known before the operation, Donald. She had to travel to Britain to get the operation, she's thinking of moving to Scotland. I went over to offer a little moral support and had to put up with Auntie Grace nipping my ear. That woman can talk for Ireland, but so can I," her eyes shifted. "I reminded her that she'd travelled all the way to England to get an abortion in the old days, that shut the old cow up."

"It's stupid how people react," I replied, "whatever happened to Christian love?"

"Oh it still exists," she glanced at the sky. "I think the big man is sitting up there laughing his nuts off at all these feckin' eejits killing each other in his name."

"How did your parents react to you?"

"Da' was okay, he said it was my decision. Me ma' thinks I'll grow out of it and me sisters are all wanting to be bridesmaids."

"You're getting married?"

"No," she put her head to one side, "I'm single."

"Me too," I replied a little too quickly, "I haven't got time for boys."

"Ever had time for a boy?"

"No," I touched the bun at the back of my head, "between study and this I'm too busy."

"All work and no play," she slapped my face gently.

"I do play," I protested, "just not as much as I'd like."

"You hungry?"

"Starving," I replied.

"Come on, let's see if we can steal some food."

That too was an old joke and not long after I found myself sitting in a tent with a plate of food in front of me. Sian was sipping a plastic cup of lager and we settled in for a pleasant half an hour before I had to get back for my final test. This time I managed a 9 and got a whistle from Sian, which brought a smile to my face.

However when I was loading Mischief into the horse trailer I lost sight of her and just assumed she'd gone to one of the stalls. I got the gate shut and was just about to venture back to the fête to look for her when I spied her talking to another girl some distance away. By the body language it looked as if the girl was moving in on her and I felt the lump in my throat but then she turned and spotted me and waved again. I raised my hand in farewell.

Sian said something to the girl, gave her a hug and then hurried across the green towards me. I moved to the driver's side of the four wheel drive and she came to a halt.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?"

"I was just about to come and look for you," I replied.

"Can you give me a lift home? I got a ride here from one of me sisters but she had to go to work."

"Sure, I have to drop by the stable first though."

"I can put up with that," she smiled and ran an eye over the car, "your motor?"

"Dad bought it for me," I replied, "it was a choice between a gap year and a motor."

"Nice choice, I wish me da' had given me that choice."

The stable brought back memories for both of us, especially for me but she gave out no hints as we drove away some time later, but when I pulled up outside her house she nudged my leg.

"You want to come in for a drink?"

"Sure," I replied, "as long as it's non alcoholic, I have to drive."

"Of course," she smiled, "sorry, I forgot."

I'd never been inside her house before. It's a big five bedroom house and yet it was empty that night. Her parents had gone to Tenerife for the weekend and her two youngest sisters were out for the night.

"So it's just you and me," she handed me a Coke.

We retired to the couch and I stretched my legs out, they weren't sore but the muscles were tight and I mentioned that as I balanced the drink on my leg.

"Do you want a massage?"

"A massage," I contemplated my legs, "it would mean I'd have to take my jodhpurs off."

"Not really," she smiled, "I can do it through the material."

I never refuse a massage, riding can be hard on your calf muscles so when someone offers to massage your legs you rarely refuse and so I took off my boots.

"Take off your jacket too," Sian tugged at it and so I removed it as well and eased myself back against the arm of the couch. It was a big couch, wide enough to sleep on and as Sian shifted back slightly to kneel on the end of the couch I stretched my legs out and spread them. She looked down at me as she knelt in front of me.

I felt a slight weakness in my belly as her back arched slightly and her breasts pushed out against the white shirt. What would it be like to make love to Sian? Would she find me attractive? Did girls have the same way of rating girls as men did? The thoughts flashed through my mind quickly as she undid her cuff buttons and folded her sleeves halfway up her wrist. She had a crooked smile on her face and for a split second I forgot myself. The angle of the light hitting her hair made it shine and I fixed my eyes on her full bosom rising and falling with each breath.

She took my left leg in her hands and began to massage it. At first I'd had doubts she could do much at all through the thick material but she had strong fingers and knew exactly where to push. In time I stretched my leg out further and let her go past my knee to my thigh, her touch became lighter then as she worked her way up and down my leg and then she switched to the other leg and repeated the procedure, finishing at my thigh and by then I was completely relaxed.

Sian now began to move her hands up and down my inner thighs while I watched her, something had changed and I didn't want her to stop and yet I felt a twinge of anxiety. She had a curious look on her face as her touch became lighter, teasing me with sweeping movements all the way to my panties and then back to my knees. It felt pleasant and I didn't flinch and she brought her hands around to my hips and then back around the top of my legs to my panties again.

My eyes shifted ever so slightly and I pushed my glasses further up my nose as she repeated the movement a few more times and then she brought both hands together to form a steeple and slid them under the fly and up the zipper. I swallowed and closed my eyes briefly as she reached the top and then brought them back down again. She repeated it again and this time, tugged gently at the tab as if she was going to unzip me but then released it.

I was beginning to get aroused but with no experience with sex, I was unsure of how to proceed, especially with a woman. Sian slid her fingers up my fly again and this time she grabbed the tab firmly and locked her eyes onto mine. She was waiting for me to give her a sign I realised a moment or two later and I raised my buttocks slightly, it was the only thing I could think of at the time. She pulled the tab and I heard the zipper sliding down and as she unzipped me, one of her fingers dragged down my shirt until she reached my lips. It was only then I managed to prop myself on my elbows and she stopped.

"You're not comfortable with this?"

"It's a bit sudden but it's nice," I murmured.

Her hand slipped inside and I swallowed and moaned as she began to rub me through my panties. It was the most glorious sensation, spreading the warmth through my belly, I pushed myself into her hand and she kept rubbing me slowly at first and then a little faster. I felt the wetness against my panties. She then slid her hand behind my panties and down over my vulva, I grabbed her wrist but didn't try to stop her as she grazed her bent finger down the valley between my lips to the moist opening. Like a flower opening, I felt myself parting for her probing digit, it slid in and stopped as if it couldn't go further and then she pushed a little more and I felt a slight pain and grimaced. She withdrew and went back to rubbing my lips.

"Have you ever done it before?"

"Never," I replied, "not even with a guy."

"Oh," she withdrew her hand and leaning over me, kissed me on the mouth. It was the first time anyone had kissed me like that. I'd been one of those girls who avoided physical contact with guys full stop, I knew what happened after they kissed you. Her lips felt so soft, I felt heady and aroused as she massaged my mouth with her lips. She broke free briefly and I swallowed, my mouth felt a little dry and my nipples were starting to ache. I locked my hand around her neck and pulled her down for another long, lingering kiss. It was passionate and sent my mind spinning, I wanted more of this and she wasn't slow in obliging as she changed position so that she was lying next to me, her mouth found mine again and her hand drifted south to my pussy.

She undid the button on my jodhpurs and I felt the fly springing open. Her hand slipped down over my genitals and she started gently teasing me, I whimpered as she kissed and fondled me, her movements soft and gentle. I was starting to perspire and my glasses were starting to fog up, she stopped rubbing me.

"The bed would be better," she murmured.

"Okay," I bit my lip, "be gentle, please."

Sian helped me sit up and we kissed again, I put my hands on her breasts and felt her fullness, she's slightly bigger than me. She rose and held out her hand, and without a word I rose and let her lead me through to her bedroom. I caught my reflection in her mirror, my jodhpurs were undone and the shirt tails were hanging out. She turned me to face the mirror and moved around behind me to let down my hair, it tumbled down my shoulders and she slid her hands down to my panties.

I arched my back and reached back for her as she pulled the jodhpurs down over my hips and stroked my inner thighs. The arousal was building inside me but I had nothing to measure it against, only that I loved what she was doing, it was slow and sensual. We backed up against the bed and then she sat down and pulled my jodhpurs down over my knees, I had to turn slightly and lift a foot so she could pull one trouser leg over my foot and then I knelt on the bed while she removed the jodhpurs completely. Sian turned and guided me to the centre of the bed and I faced her as she stroked my face gently.

Sian hooked her finger inside the knot of my tie and pulled the material out of the knot, I brushed my hands up and down her front as she undid the tie and let the ends dangle free and she smiled crookedly as she undid the top button, I swallowed as she undid the next button and stroked my skin teasingly, the third button came loose and I whimpered as she arched her back and kissed me on the lips again. Her hands slipped under my shirt and I fumbled for her second button, it came loose and she pushed harder, I felt more wetness and then she undid a fourth button and began to massage my shoulders gently but firmly. It sent shivers down my spine.