Time After Time

"She... she looked after it, for eight years she looked after my room," whispered Hal. Her voice quavered, sounding close to tears.

I tried to give her something to cling on to. "I think maybe she wanted you home, Hal, but was too... stubborn or proud or indoctrinated, whatever, to approach you."

"And I was too bloody stubborn or uncaring to even try to come home." A solitary tear trickled down Hal's cheek and I took her in my arms to comfort her. For all that she was six or seven inches taller than me, at that moment it was as if I was the bigger of the two.

I brushed away her tear and said: "Let's make love, Hal, right here and now."

"But the bed's only small."

"So how much room do we need?" I said, "I love you, Hal, and right now I want you."

"And I love you, Berry," Hal said as she reached for me, "I never thought it would happen for me." She wrapped her arms around me as she bent her head for a kiss. It was just a soft touching of lips at first which seemed endless. I lifted my arms so that they were around Hal's neck and took her lower lip between mine, tugging very gently. Hal moaned a little as her tongue flickered across my upper lip and then we were frantically exploring each other's mouths. I hoped I tasted as good to Hal as her natural sweetness did to me. Her lips left mine, she began to nibble and lick one of my ears and my honeypot started to tingle and become damp. I pushed my hips hard against Hal's.

"Stop wasting time, Hal—undress me, please."

Hal pulled my t-shirt off slowly, inch by inch, tantalising me as she continued to lick and suck my ear. At last I was free of the top and Hal went down on her knees to unzip and lower my jeans, again doing it as slowly as she could. She stopped as the jeans reached just below my crotch to press her nose and mouth to my panty-covered mound. "I can never get enough of your smell," she said before finally pushing the jeans down to my ankles. As she lifted each foot clear of the garment she gave my toes a fairy kiss. Throwing the jeans to one side, she bent her head even lower to my ankles as if kow-towing to me, and started to kiss her way up my legs.

By now kitty was flowing freely, soaking my panties, and I put my hand down to finger her. Hal reached up to stop me. "Don't be impatient. If we're going to make love, then we'll do it properly." She continued to kiss the inside of one leg and it seemed to take an age until she reached the point where my thigh met my torso. To my frustration she lowered her head again and started on the other leg, same thing—a series of gentle, lingering kisses up to the inside of my thigh.

"Do you want me to take your panties off?" Hal teased.

"Just do it," I said through clenched teeth.

Again she drew the panties down my legs with maddening slowness and again the gradual kissing up my legs as I whimpered with urgent need. At last she reached my pussy and inhaled before easing my lips apart and giving me a flat-tongued lick from perineum to clitoris. Hall stood up abruptly.

"No!" I moaned.

"Fair's fair," she pointed out, "I've got to get naked too."

I damned near tore her clothes from her, no finesse from Berry. To hell with unhurried foreplay, I wanted a good shagging and I wanted it immediately. Her boxer shorts—Bugs Bunny if you want to know—were the last to go and I could smell her readiness too. As I stood, Hal embraced me so that our nude bodies pressed closely together and she kissed me hard, tongue probing. I pulled away so that I could suck on one of her large nipples while caressing her other breast. I could feel Hal's fingers probing softly at my cleft, teasing and tickling and penetrating a little.

Suddenly she picked me up in her arms and sat me on the edge of the bed, going to her knees in front of me. She spread my legs and buried her face in my pussy, kissing her way around my outer lips before easing them apart so that her tongue could seek its way into my vagina. I rested my legs on Hal's shoulders and held her head close to me with one hand, playing with my stiffened little nipples with the other hand. I still worried sometimes about my tiny boobs but Hal kept assuring me she loved them. Hal withdrew her tongue to explore the whole of my pussy and slid two fingers into me, moving them in and out to brush against the spongy area of my g-spot. "That's it... right there... again..." I sighed. Hal's tongue was now flicking against my clit and I could feel my pussy walls tightening on her fingers. My breathing was coming in short gasps now and my climax was very close. I held Hal even closer, bucking my hips against her face. "Oh God... don't stop... don't stop..." I yelled out as I came, the orgasm damned near blowing the top of my head off.

Hal continued to lick and finger-fuck me and I could feel another one building up inside me even before the first had settled down. I released Hal's head and clutched at the quilt with both hands as my second orgasm exploded and I made all sorts of incoherent noises. My eyes were squeezed shut and I opened them to see Hal looming above me, grinning triumphantly, her lips and chin shining with my come. "Worth waiting for?" she asked.

"You've ruined me for anyone else," I panted.

"Better not be anyone else," she laughed, "I love you, Berry, you're all mine now."

"I love you too, so shut up and kiss me," I demanded. Her kiss was sloppy with my juices and I licked her clean. My own come had never tasted as good to me as it did then. I guess Hal must have added some magic ingredient.

Hal lay back on the bed and I lay on top of her, kissing and nuzzling at her mouth and throat and boobs. Our naked bodies felt so good together like this and I reached down to play with Hal's pussy. Thick nectar was flowing and my fingers slipped into her tightness easily. Her clit, bigger than mine, rubbed against the heel of my hand and Hal jerked, letting out a little cry of pleasure. I applied a little more pressure, at the same time seeking out her g-spot. I sensed that she was going to come very quickly, the pressure must have been building up inside her while she was bringing me off, so I worked that little bit harder to get her there. My hand and fingers worked hard against her and her hips thrust hard against me and then Hal was holding me tight, making little crying noises as her pussy seemed to pout and more slippery juice coated my hand.

"Turn round, Berry," Hal said, voice throaty. I guessed what she wanted and turned so that I was straddling her face with her pussy in front of me. The outer lips were still slightly swollen and creamy liquid dripped from them. Her pink inner lips, with their delicate shell-like edges, were visible and I took them gently between my teeth and nibbled at them. I slipped two fingers into kitty and with my other hand eased back her clitoral hood to expose the sensitive button. I licked at the delicious offering and I could feel Hal doing the same to my honeypot. We came off together and for me it was a mind-blower. From the way Hal jerked and yelled I reckon it was pretty good for her, too.

We just lay there afterwards, cuddling and kissing and saying the silly little post coital things that lovers say. After a while we dozed off...

* * * * *

Within a few weeks, Hal had moved into her house and started redecorating. She asked me to move in with her but I had a few months lease to run on my flat so we agreed I should see that out.

I was head over heels in love with Hal and one evening I came to a decision. I took out my jewellery case and searched through the collection of ring-boxes until I found what I wanted, a beautiful antique ring that had been left to me by a great-aunt. It was white gold set with three lovely fire-opals. I knew that when the moment was right, I was going to ask Hal to marry me. The ring was way too large for my fingers but it looked as if it would fit Hal perfectly. It wasn't the traditional type of engagement ring but that didn't matter. It would be a perfect declaration of my love...

I took to carrying the ring about with me, waiting for the opportune moment to propose. Until one night in The Deep Velvet Bar I found out that Hal was cheating on me...

* * * * *

"Hello, Hal sweetie, here I am as requested." The tall woman who had appeared by our booth turned to me. "We've not met—I'm Amber Lytton."

"Amber!" Hal looked astonished. "What are you doing here? And what do you mean 'requested'?"

"Why, I've come because of the texts you sent me, what else?"

"I haven't sent you any texts."

Amber sighed. "Oh, Hal, still telling lies?" She turned to me again. "I'm afraid Hal always was a stranger to the truth. Don't tell me you've never noticed."

"What the hell are you on about?" Hal practically shouted. A nearby waitress turned to see what was going one.

"Hal, you know you texted me asking me to get you out of this relationship."

"I did no such thing!"

"Hal... Hal..." Amber reached into her bag to take out her mobile phone. She pressed a few buttons and handed the phone to me. It was set to display the texts. I read the first one aloud.

"Amber darling, hope it's not too late to realise it's you I love. I'm stuck with this fucking midget now and I can't shake her off. She's getting on my nerves. Get me off the hook please. Yours ever, Hal xxx"

I looked at Hal's horror-stricken face. "I didn't sent that!" she protested.

Amber pointed to her phone. "There are lots more."

I read the next message: "Amber, this titless wonder's so fucking boring. Please come as soon as possible. Hal xxx"

"But I didn't—"

Before Hal could stop her, Amber had grabbed Hal's bag and rummaged in it, producing her mobile. She passed it to me. "Here are the originals."

I read the first couple of texts on Hal's phone. They were identical to the messages on Amber's phone and the menu indicated that they had been sent. I felt sick as I looked at Hal who looked equally sick. Amber, standing by, just looked sad. "I thought you loved me," I whispered.

"I do love you! I didn't send those texts!"

"Don't lie!" I yelled, brandishing Hal's phone. A number of people were now staring at our table. "I've got the evidence right here, your own bloody mobile. Well, don't worry about getting rid of the titless wonder, she's going right now! I never want to see you again, Hal!" Tears were threatening to blind me as I went to leave.

"Berry, I love you! I didn't send those texts!"

I realised I was still holding Hal's phone. Half turning, I threw it in her general direction. "Here, you'll need this to text your lady friend! I hope you're happy together!" I was almost running at that point.

* * * * *

I didn't know that anyone could cry as long and as bitterly as I did after that confrontation in The Deep Velvet Bar. My heart was broken and I was broken with it.

In the end I just ran out of tears. I could have understood Hal admiring, even fancying, another woman—we're all prone to that, it's only human nature, but it was the terrible betrayal that tore me apart. The nasty things she'd said in those texts... and with bloody Amber Lytton... I'd loved Hal so much and this... Oh, scrub the 'I'd loved', make it I love Hal still. But I could never let her into my life again, I'd never be able to trust her. And so it went on for a month or more of abject misery...

Hal

I don't think Berry realised what she'd done but the phone hit my forehead above an eye, catching me with a corner. It hurt, temporarily blinding me, and I could feel blood starting to trickle. I wiped it away, clearing my eye in time to see Berry exiting the club. Amber was still standing there, a smug look on her face. "If you run you might catch her," she scoffed, "Don't think she'll want to talk to you though."

I should have slapped her stupid but I'm not a violent person and I was more concerned about Berry anyway. I dashed out of the club into the lobby, almost crashing into Big Jacqui the doorkeeper. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, "What's everyone in such a bloody hurry for? First Berry, then you."

"Berry, which way did she go?"

Ignoring my question she said: "Nasty little cut there, Hal. You'd better get that seen to."

"Fuck the cut," I swore, "did you see where Berry went?"

Jacqui pointed to the left. "That way I think."

I ran down the steps into the street but couldn't see Berry anywhere. There were several taxis lined up outside, waiting for the evening's exodus. One of the drivers was a bloke Berry and I had used on several occasions. "Looking for your friend, love?" he called, "She grabbed the first cab in line. She looked pretty upset about something."

Going back into The Deep Velvet Bar, I couldn't see Amber anywhere. I grabbed one of the waitresses. "Have you seen the woman who came to our booth?" I asked, "Tall, glamorous and well-dressed, shoulder-length dark hair?"

"I think someone like that went into the ladies' room a few minutes ago."

Thanking the girl, I pushed my way through the crowd and went into the toilets. Amber was by herself at one of the bowls, washing her hands. All of the stalls seemed to be empty except for one where the door was closed. Well, whoever was in there, I didn't give a stuff.

Amber pointed to the cut on my brow. "Good shot, that girl of yours. Or should I say ex-girl?" I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. There was a line of blood running down the side of my face and what would be a king-sized bruise starting.

Close to tears, I said: "How did you manage that, Amber?"

She gave me an ugly smirk. "Easy, sweetie. I hacked into your phone and then sent those texts to myself. Remember me removing my number from it way back when? I set it up then so I could get in any time I wanted. A child could fool you when it comes to technology, Hal. Most people change their phones frequently but you're too dim to do that."

"But why...?

"I told you you'd regret walking out on me one day. Well, I've made sure of that." Amber finished drying her hands and added: "In a way this is your own fault, Hal. I'd almost forgotten about it, was going to let it go. But then you had to go and make some snide remark to Leonie Ashton recently and of course the sweet woman couldn't wait to tell me all about it. Sensitive soul is Leonie."

Sensitive? Leonie? Like a hungry scorpion. I felt sick, as much with myself as anything. Me and my big mouth!

"Anyway, sweetie, must fly." Amber reached out to stroke my cheek before I could move out of her way. I recoiled and felt my skin crawl. I'd sooner have had a tarantula creeping up my face. "Have to get home and give Leonie her reward."

* * * * *

I tried over and over to contact Berry to tell her what had really happened, phoned, texted, never any answer. I suppose Caller ID gave me away. I went to her flat a number of times but she wouldn't open the door—it had a convenient peep-hole so she always checked visitors—assuming she was there anyway. She might have gone to her parents' house and I didn't want to drag them into this. Only one time I knew for sure that she was there because she shouted: "Go away, Hal! I don't want to see you any more!" After a few weeks I gave up trying. I wondered what to do with the sapphire ring which now seemed to be wasted. In the end I tucked it away into a sideboard drawer.

I did a hell of a lot of weeping during that time. I also wore my Betty Boop t-shirt constantly until it was pretty manky because I wanted something of Berry's close to me.

I told my grandparents that Berry and I had fallen out but wouldn't give them the full story. I think Grandma would have gone after Amber with a rolling-pin if I had done. She just said: "I hope you can make it up—strikes me you two were meant to be together."

The only person who knew the full truth about our split was Robbie and I swore him to secrecy. He had some contacts in Aliberts and offered to put in a bad word about Amber but I refused. "That'd bring me down to her level, Robbie," I said, "and I'd hate to be like her."

One Saturday evening, sick of just moping about crying, I decided to pull myself together, get on with life again. Sooner or later I'd have to get over Berry—later, probably, because I was so much in love with her. Casting around for things to do, I realised that I still hadn't had a good look at those leather-bound albums with the old photographs. I'd given them a few cursory glances since I first acquired them and then put them to one side to enjoy later. Subsequent events had knocked that on the head. I'd noted that each album had a decorative label on the inside front cover with a brief description of contents in elegant handwriting, 'copperplate' I believe they used to call it. The albums' pages were typical of the period, thick stiff paper with slots to insert photograph corners.

The names and date on the first album's label were: Henry & Berenice Chastain 1868. That was odd, her first name was the same as Berry's, just a slight difference in the spelling. The first few photographs were typical stiff and formal Victorian poses, he sitting and her standing behind him, one hand on his shoulder, then she sitting and him standing. Both appeared to be very well dressed by the standards of the time. Money there, I'd guess.

Then I came upon a series of pictures of the two as individuals, head-and-shoulder portraits. There was something about the wife... good God! She was damned near a double of Berry, they could almost have been sisters. What were the odds of two people, nearly one-hundred-and-fifty years apart, being so alike. Unless Berenice Chastain was some ancestor of Berry's.

I looked again at Henry's photos. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, too. It took me several long minutes to recognise it and then I took a photograph from the album and carried it to a mirror, holding it beside my face. There was a distinct likeness. Oh, his face was strong, masculine while mine feminine with soft lines but nevertheless... it was almost like father and daughter looking back at me from the glass...

Berry and I, both having Victorian ancestors married to each other? Coincidence? Far-fetched? Grandma might know, one of her hobbies was family genealogy. I called her, explained briefly and almost truthfully that I'd found a reference in an old book.

"Chastain..." she mused, "No-one of that name in our family."

"This would be about the 1860s," I told her.

"About the time of your four-times great grandparents then. No, no Chastains. Some of our family back then were called Wilkins, Tallis, Foster... I can't recall all of the names right now... certainly not Chastain, though."

"What about my father's family?" I said.

"No, no Chastains there, either."

Before calling Grandma I'd quickly looked through some of the other albums, finding pictures of Henry and Berenice sitting in splendour, surrounded by turbaned servants. "Was there anyone in service in India?" I asked, "Military officer or official of some kind?"

Grandma laughed. "Sorry, Hal, but nothing so posh. All sides of our family were from common stock, labourers mostly. One of your great-great-grandfathers was a railway signalman, another a farm worker. I think one was a brick-layer. There was one who was a lowly clerk-cum-messenger in an insurance office, that was about the highest any of that generation ever achieved."

* * * * *

The recurring dream came again that night, following the usual pattern of going a little further than it had previously.

I was an elderly man in bed in a ill-lit room and I was dying. There were two doctors with me, one old and a life-long friend, the other young and seemingly callous. I spoke to my friend, something about the younger man growing old one day and finding out what it was like. I clearly recall saying "To die will be an awfully big adventure..." before closing my eyes to sleep and then I found myself floating in the strange tunnel, floating towards the dazzling light, and knew that I must have died. This time the dream took me further and faster than ever before and I found myself bursting from the tunnel into a limitless white space.