Everything to Gain

I felt him smile against my cheek, and I knew he was happy at my unequivocal and positive response.

‘Let me love you,’ he said against my hair, stroking my cheek as he spoke. Then he touched the strap of my nightgown a little impatiently. ‘Take this off, darling. Please.’

As I pulled the short silk shift up and over my head, and dropped it onto the floor, he slipped out of his pyjamas, and a split second later he was next to me again, taking me in his arms, bending over me intently, seeking my mouth with his.

He kissed me over and over again, his lips moving from my mouth to each of my eyelids, onto my nose and forehead, and down to nestle in my neck. He stroked my shoulder and my breasts, tenderness in his every movement; then he began to kiss my nipple while his hand slid down onto my inner thigh. An instant later his questing fingers had found the innermost core of me and he caressed me expertly, delicately, and I felt a sudden surge of warmth spreading through me.

Sighing, I stirred in his arms, arching my body, pressing closer to him, my longing for him paramount in my mind. I put my arms around his neck, and as I did so he began to kiss my mouth again, his passion rising. And I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It had always been like this between us; our desire for each other had never waned in all the years of our marriage.

He was ready for me now, just as I was ready for him, and I met his passion with intense ardour, arching up, cleaving to him as he entered me. Instantly, we found our own rhythm, moving against each other with mounting excitement.

Suddenly, abruptly, Andrew stopped.

I looked up into his face hovering so close. His hands were braced on either side of me and he was holding his body very still above mine. He stared down at me for the longest time, searching my face.

His eyes were vividly blue, so blue they almost blinded me, and as we gazed at each other, drowning in each other’s eyes, neither one of us was able to look away. It was as though we were plunging deeply into each other’s souls, merging to become one.

The silence between us was a palpable thing. He broke it when he said in a voice that was low and thickened by emotion, ‘My wife, my darling wife. I love you, I’ve always loved you and I always will.’

‘Oh Andrew, I love you too,’ I breathed. ‘For ever.’ And reaching up, I touched his face, my love for him spilling out of me.

A faint smile flickered onto his mouth and was instantly gone. He brought his face down to mine, kissing me lightly, tenderly, and we shared a moment of the most profound intimacy.

Sudden heat flared in me again, took hold of me. ‘I want you,’ I whispered.

‘And I want you,’ he answered, and in the pale light I saw the need and urgency in his eyes, the excitement on his face.

Slowly, gently at first, Andrew began to move once more. His speed increased, as did mine; our movements became almost violent as we spun out of control.

I closed my eyes, swept along by wave after wave of ecstasy, excited by the things Andrew was whispering to me. We clung to each other, and as I felt that first sharp surge of intense pleasure, I gasped, then called his name.

Like an echo coming back to me, I heard him crying mine, and we rushed headlong towards a rapturous climax, reaching fulfilment together.

We had turned out the lights and lay in the darkness, curled up under the quilt, wrapped in each other’s arms. I felt languorous, satiated, after our explosive sexual release, and overwhelmed by the love I felt for Andrew. He was my life, my whole existence. I was so lucky. There was no woman luckier.

I nestled into him, listening to his even breathing, thankful that it was normal again. During our hectic lovemaking he had started to pant, then gasp, and even after he had collapsed against me, his breathing had been laboured.

Now I said quietly, ‘Your breathing was so strange, I was worried.’

‘Why, darling?’

‘For a split second I thought you were having a heart attack.’

He laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. I was very turned on, overexcited. I thought I was going to explode. If you want the truth, Mal, I couldn’t seem to get enough of you tonight.’

‘I’m glad of that,’ I murmured. ‘The feeling’s mutual.’

‘I’d rather gathered that.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘Happy?’

‘Deliriously, ecstatically.’ I turned my face, buried it against his chest. ‘You’re the very best.’

‘I’d better be.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t want you looking elsewhere,’ he said in a teasing tone, laughing again.

‘Fat chance of that, Mr Keswick!’

He tightened his arms around me. ‘Oh Mal, my beautiful wife, you’re such a wonder, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You won’t have to … I’ll be with you all the days of our lives.’

‘Thank God for that. Listen … do you think we made a baby tonight?’

‘I hope so.’ I craned my neck to look up at him, but his face was obscured in the murky light. Slipping out of his arms, I pushed myself up until my head was next to his on the pillows. I bent over him, took his face between my hands and kissed him.

When we finally drew apart, I said, with a small smile, ‘But don’t worry if we haven’t. Think of all the fun we’re going to have trying.’

Seven (#ulink_86896c9d-ce70-5001-8995-07d62be2ad85)

I knew immediately that my mother was going to pick a fight with me. I suppose, over the years, I have acquired a second sense about her different moods, and I recognized she was not in a very pleasant one this morning.

Perhaps it was the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the way she held herself in general, so rigidly. Her body language telegraphed that she was spoiling for a fight.

I was determined not to react, not today, the fourth of July. I wanted this to be a happy, carefree day; after all, it was our big summer celebration. Nothing was going to spoil it.

She was so uptight when I greeted her on the doorstep I had to steel myself as I kissed her on the cheek. She was not going to be easy to deal with; all of the signs were there.

‘I don’t know why you have to have your barbecue so early,’ she said in a complaining voice as she came inside the house. ‘I had to get up at the crack of dawn to make it out here.’

‘One o’clock is not so early, Mother,’ I said quietly, ‘and you didn’t have to arrive at this hour.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘It’s barely ten —’

‘I wanted to help you,’ she shot back, cutting me off. ‘Don’t I always try to help you, Mallory?’

‘Yes, you do,’ I answered quickly, wishing to placate her. I eyed the bag she was carrying; she had not said anything about spending the night when we had spoken on the phone yesterday, and I hoped she wasn’t planning to do so. ‘What’s in the bag?’ I asked. ‘Are you sleeping over?’

‘No, no, of course not!’ she exclaimed.

She had such a peculiar look on her face, I wondered if the mere idea of this was distasteful to her. However, I did not say a word, deeming it wiser to remain silent.

She added, ‘But thanks, anyway, for asking me. I have a dinner date tonight. In the city. So I must get back. As for the bag, I have a change of clothes in it. For the barbecue. I do get so creased driving out here.’ She glanced down at her black gabardine trousers. ‘Oh dear!’ she cried. ‘I hope this dog isn’t going to cover me with hairs.’

Trixy, ever friendly, was jumping up against her legs. Stifling a sudden flash of annoyance with my mother, I automatically reached for the dog and picked her up in my arms.

‘She doesn’t moult, Mother.’ I said this as evenly as I possibly could, exercising great control over myself.

‘That’s good to know.’