Holly breathed in very deeply, trying hard to control her sobs. “I miss her so much already,” she said, shaking her head, her tears returning.
“I know you do, Hol, I know. I could tell when I picked you up, you were elated from the visit then quickly became very quiet. You said almost nothing at Grandma’s over lunch.”
She sobbed and wiped her nose, stuttering her words. “It was just so nice having her there in the morning,” she gasped.
“I know. Becky and I were together almost a year, we lived in each other’s dorm rooms, spent every night that we could together. Hol, it’s the most beautiful opportunity to love someone and find out about how to love another person. It’s safe, right, and you know from your own body what she is going to like.”
“Yeah. Like when we touch it’s, oh I don’t know.”
“Romantic?”
Holly giggled. “Yeah, but so warm, so safe, you’re right. So very safe.”
“So you and I young lady are somewhat similar. I don’t mind admitting that I kissed every square inch of Becky’s body and loved every minute of it.”
“Mummy!” said Holly in mock surprise. The conversation had been a balm on her emotions, enlightening and a true revelation about her mother.
“Hol, there’s a Starbucks up ahead, let’s stop because I’m going to pee everywhere if we don’t.”
Holly shook her head, amazed at the turn of phrase and the change in her mother. Either she had been hit by a truck on Saturday night or she had been visited by an evil spirit. Either way she was beginning at last to sound like the mothers of her school-friends.
“Oh and Hol, Daddy doesn’t need to know about Becky, OK, that’s just between you and me?”
“Of course Mummy,” said Holly. She leaned over and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, happily processing a torrent of new information as they approached the turn-off.
“Let’s plan on inviting her down to the house for a week or so before you both go off to university, eh?”
“Really?” she cried, delighted at the idea and already counting the weeks.
“Course.”
Chapter 17 – Honey, I’m home!
While Lydia was driving at forty-eight miles an hour, stuck behind a huge truck that took up more than half the road, Harry was in his study, lounging back in his padded chair. He scrolled slowly through images of naked young girls as he toyed with his hard cock between the folds of his dressing gown but was careful to make sure that the neighbours wouldn’t seem him if they looked out of their windows. Work on the presentation had been going well until he discovered a couple more sources of images and now it was work ten percent, scrolling ninety percent but still an excellent use of his Sunday afternoon.
Holly had retired sleepily a couple of hours after lunch, just after the film ended on TV. Her thoughts of an afternoon snooze were very appealing and once upstairs she threw the nightie onto the floor as she once again gently touched the images of Jenny, then Billy. Smiling at their apparent happiness, she slipped under the covers and was asleep within minutes.
The house was quiet although in need of a little tidy-up in places, especially the kitchen and lounge. He smiled at the image and then at the memory of Holly and her laughter the previous night. His LCD clock, a present from his wife last Christmas, showed 5:28:14. He knew that because he had looked up at a flash of green which passed the window, then at the clock. It was to be a time seared into his memory for years to come. It would be the end of the best of times and the start of the worst of times. The green looked a little like the colour of his wife’s car, an idea that grew into a stroke-inducing thought as the silver trim of her windscreen surround came into view and slowed to a stop. He was so very dead.
Harry leapt to his feet and stumbled as his swivel chair caught his dressing gown, exposing his deflating cock to anyone looking in through the window. He glanced again out towards the driveway but knew in his heart that his wife and daughter would be opening the front door just as soon as they had retrieved their luggage. He considered waking Holly but thought better of it, wondering if he could ask his wife and daughter to go the supermarket for milk or something. He saw Holly’s red and black school scarf flash past the window and heard the key in the door. His legs were like jelly, his heart pounding as he simply stood inside his study, ineffectual, waiting for the storm to hit. His cock was now the same size as when he was ten, ready for total humiliation.
“Hi Dad, we’re home!” chimed Holly.
“Eary, I mean early,” he stammered, terror on his face.
“You OK?” she asked as her mother stepped past her.
“Phew, good to be home,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Harry, have you just got up?”
“No, been up ages,” he said, looking at the stairs.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing, why?”
“You’re acting strange. Is everything all right?”
“Of course dear,” he said and reached out for the door jamb for support.
“I’m going to dump my stuff,” said Holly, making for the stairs.
“No!” he said, far too loudly.
“Harry, what’s going on?”
Holly went up the stairs as Harry counted down the steps from thirteen to one, then four steps to her room, one second to open the door, two seconds to take in the scene and then “What the fuck?” shrieked his daughter.
“Hol, what’s happened?” asked her mother, pushing past Harry. She ran up the stairs two at a time and Harry followed meekly, slowly, hoping that a stair might fail and swallow him whole.
He heard the commotion, the comments “Who the hell is this?” and a sleepy “Huh?” as he got to the top of the stairs.
His wife darted out of Holly’s bedroom and almost bumped into him. “Harry, what’s going on?” she demanded, bewilderment on her face and in accusation in her tone.
“Daddy, who is this?” asked Holly, pointing at Holly.
“That’s Holly.”
“Are you drunk Harry, who the hell is she and why is there someone in Holly’s bed? How can she be Holly?”
Juliette leaned up, now registering that there were three people in the room and she looked at each one in turn. Aware that she was most probably going to be asked to leave, she moved to sit up but the sheet slipped out of her hand giving her audience a perfect view of her young, naked breasts and the bruise on her arm.
“Oh my god!” said Lydia, staring at the girl’s nakedness as a little foot poked out from under the sheet. Juliette covered herself quickly and looked away from the crowd, embarrassed by her predicament.
“Jesus!” said Holly at the bruise on her arm.
“What’s with the swearing everyone?” asked Harry, taking the moral high ground as a diversion.
“Harry, why is this young girl naked in the bed?”
“Holly, are you naked?” he asked for want of anything better to say.
She nodded. “Yes Daddy” she replied without looking up.
“Daddy?” said Lydia and Holly in unison.
Holly glanced at her nightstand and gasped. “What are those?” she said pointing at what looked like an old rag. She darted over and picked it up “They look like knickers, ripped up!” She dropped them to the floor, on top of her blouse and skirt. “My school uniform! Jesus, what the fuck?”
Juliette bit her lip and shuddered as the situation unfolded and her perfect day came to a crashing end. They watched, somewhat unkindly, as she flopped back onto the pillow and started to sob.
“And Daddy, how did she get that dreadful bruise?” asked Holly , pointing at the girl’s arm.
Juliette looked up at Harry and stuttered “I fell out of a tree.”
Harry shook his head, hoping and praying to the god that had let him down so badly after doing so well for him the previous day. “I did it.”
“Daddy!” said Juliette, shaking her head.
“Hol, twenty-four hours.”
Lydia shook
her head. “Harry, do your dressing gown up properly and come with me, we need to talk, don’t we!” She strode out of the room and went downstairs as Harry trailed behind, joining her in his study. Lydia shut the study door and turned to him as he sat.
“Harry, what the fuck is going on?”
“Why are you swearing Lydi, you never swear!”
“It’s the new me. Now, what is a naked young girl doing in Holly’s bed? Or better still, why is there even a naked young girl in the goddamn house?”
Harry took a deep breath and looked out of the window. “She broke in to the house. Friday night. She was cold and hungry, looking for food and shelter. She’s been here since.”
“She’s a burglar?”
“Sort of. She didn’t steal anything, she made too much noise,” he replied, slowly, stretching his words out to fill the time.
“And what’s this twenty-four hours?”
“Nothing, just something she said.”
“It got you to change your mind up there though,” said Lydia, her voice calming but still confrontational. She paced slowly up and down in front of his desk. “Well?”
“We agreed that we would tell the truth all the time for twenty-four hours. There’s still a few hours to go.”
“Better than beating it out of the girl, right?”
He shrugged, wondering when the interrogation would come to an end and where he would be sleeping tonight. This was turning out to be a miserable conclusion to what had been one of the most remarkable days of his life. Poxy god.
“Harry, she has a massive bruise on her arm. How did she get it?”
“I hit her.”
“I don’t believe you!” she shot back.
“I hit her with the baseball bat, I thought she was a punk from the estate up the road.”
“Good god, Harry, you could have killed her. What if you hit her head?”
“I was aiming for her head, the mower got in the way.”
“For chrissakes Harry, when did you start hitting people?”
“There’s a worse one on her leg.”
He told his wife the story, how she had hidden in the woods, entered the garage, got caught and how he had fed her and lent her Holly’s bed for the night. He told about how he shopped for clothes as hers were ruined, and that they had gone out to a cheap café for dinner last night. She too stared out of the window for some time and then turned to him.
“So, back to this twenty-four hours. What’s with this day of honesty?”
“She said she had never had a chance to talk to boys or men and wanted to have an open conversation.”
“So you gave her one?” Harry ignored the innuendo but knew the subject was sure to come up. She walked over and stood beside him, breathing deeply. He grabbed a pen from his desk, intending to chew it to introduce some pain in his teeth which would be preferable to his wife’s questioning. He nudged the mouse.
“Harry, what the hell is that?” gasped Lydia, pointing at the screen. The sea-scape screen-saver of the Bahamas had been transformed into a mildly under-age Lolita in all her glory.
“Oh shit, nothing,” he said, grappling for the mouse. Thankful the girl didn’t have an unfeasibly large penis inside her.
“Wait, leave it” said his wife, taking hold of the wireless mouse with a very determined look. The image scrolled up, cutting of the girl’s head. “Shit!”
“Sorry, it must be a virus,” he said, his heart rate back in that familiar max cardiac zone.
“Harry, this twenty-four hours,” she said, swinging the mouse out of his reach.
“It was her idea,” said Harry, defending feebly.
“I want the same. The same deal, the same rules, assuming there are rules.”
“Nothing that would get you arrested, always tell the whole truth. Twenty-four hours. That was about seven o’clock last night.”
“OK, so can we have a twenty-four hour period, starting now?”
Harry frowned and tilted his head, looking at her closely. He cautiously smiled a little for the first time since her return and nodded, calculating that he thought he knew where this was leading.
“Can I start?” she asked. He looked at her cautiously and then shrugged. “OK, did you break any of her bones?” He almost laughed with relief but kept a straight, serious face and answered ‘no’. “OK, thank Christ for that. How long has she been here?”
“I told you, since Friday night. My turn?”
“OK,” she said, her tone indicating that she had a lot more to ask.
“Can I get rid of this picture?” he asked, reaching out for her hand.
“No, not yet,” she replied.
“Why not?”
Lydia paused, looking slightly anguished with the response that she would give. “You promise absolute honesty, right? Twenty-four hours?”
“Yes, that’s how it’s been with Holly and me since yesterday. It can be tough but also very amusing.”
“OK, so I want you to leave it there.” She breathed in and blurted out “Because she is beautiful and those sorts of pictures turn me on.”
“Little girls?”
“Not necessarily little, but pretty girls and women, yes.”
“Oh my god Lidy, I had no idea. Me too!” he said delightedly.
“Show me more,” she said, handing the mouse back to him. He laid it on the pad and scrolled down until another little gem appeared. “Oh my good god, Harry, look at her!”
“Lidy, what’s with the swearing?”
“I just decided to change. Over the weekend, but it had been coming for some time. It’s something that I need to tell you about, hence the twenty-four hours. I’ve been speaking to Holly with what you might call ‘more modern words’ since we left your Mum’s.” Harry regarded her with a little suspicion although her tone reflected how she had spoken to him on the phone that morning. “Harry. That girl upstairs” she said. Harry quickly scrolled and another Lolita appeared, this time with a man and his erection against her lips. “Oh god Harry, oh my!” said Lydia, sinking to her knees next to him.
“You like porn?” he asked, surprised and hopeful that he just might get out of this afternoon unscathed.
“Stuff like this, yes. I watch it on my phone sometimes but I have no idea where to find these images, they’re so well produced.”
“You sound like Holly. I mean Holly upstairs, not our Holly.”
Lydia frowned but didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “You discussed porn with her?”
“She’s a bit of a connoisseur, likes to talk about production values, lighting, props, you know”
“Harry?” she said with an unexpectedly controlled voice. Here it comes he thought, the obvious question. “Harry, did you have sex with her?”
“Who, Holly?”
“Yes, new Holly, who else would I be asking about?” she said, exasperated
He paused, but knew what he would say. “Yes”
She sank to the floor and covered her face in her hands. “Harry, is that why you didn’t want to come to your Mum’s with us?”
“No. I had no idea this girl would break into our bleeding house. ” He pursed his lips, wondering why she had chosen an ‘opportunity’ question rather than one about ‘motive’. He also wondered about the lack of screaming, shouting obscenities, clawing and hitting. Perhaps she needed to watch more soap operas rather than porn.
“Was she good?”
“Lidy!”
“Harry, just tell me! We made a promise!” she retorted, looking more offended than angry.
“Yes, it was wonderful,” he said simply as he scrolled to the next image. She watched as he continued slowly past many more.
Lydia seemed disappointed by his response and regarded the carpet for some time. “Harry, stop for a minute, I have something to say.” She started to speak but glanced at the screen and then seemed to just melt. “Oh my god, just look at that! She is so amazing, look at that figure, those boobs, her, her you know.”
“Pussy?”
“Yeah” she responded with a short giggle. She looked up at him. “Do you like her?”
“Yeah, she looks amazing.”
“So how long have you been looking at this stuff?”
He thought of how long it had been since Brian at work had given him the URL, which must have been about eight years ago. “About a year.”
“And you didn’t share it with me?” she asked, pouting a little.
“I had no idea you liked this type of stuff.” They let the words hang in the air, while both almost certainly thought about the lost opportunities and the twenty-four hour rule. “What did you want to tell me?” said Harry eventually as he scrolled to the next little delight.
“Yes, I need to tell you something”
“A confession?” he asked, putting his hands in his lap, pleased to feel that his cock had grown past the previous ten-year old stage.
“Yes, a confession.”
“I already know.”
“What?” she gasped. “Your Mum told you?”
“My Mum? You have a confession about my Mum? Jeeze Lidy!”
“No, not your Mum Harry. But I thought she might have called you?”
“No, haven’t spoken to her for about two weeks.”
“So, how do you know?”
“If this is what I think it’s about, then the spare tyre. I saw the clothes when I took your car to the garage to put air in the tyres for your journey.”
“Oh god!” she said and put her hand over her mouth.
“For maybe a year now, right?”
“Harry! Oh jesus no, Harry, how could you just sit there, or share our bed with me?”
“Lidy, I just thought you had sort of an urge to explore and I was convinced you’d come back home to Holly and me afterwards,” he said. “I guessed that you needed to sample things that I couldn’t deliver.”
She slid over to his chair and slipped her hand between his legs. “This is what I really want, what I realise I can’t replace,” she said, touching his cock gently. “Scroll some more babe, and tell me about new Holly and what you did to her,” she asked, kneeling beside him.
“You gonna tell me about your adventure last night?” he asked.
Shake That Tree Page 15