by Fay Keenan
‘I don’t know whether to be flattered or shocked,’ Florence laughed gently, which broke the almost unbearable tension. ‘Was I that much of a sure thing?’
‘Be flattered, but for goodness’ sake be quick,’ Sam murmured, stroking her belly, as if he knew how close she was, too. ‘I’m not sure I can hold out if you keep doing that to me.’
Florence’s hands had been at work, stroking and teasing, and she could feel just how aroused Sam was. Reaching down to where Sam had dumped his jeans, she found what she was looking for, tore open the packet and slipped the condom onto Sam’s more than ready cock. Pulling him on top of her, she drew a breath as he slid easily and wonderfully inside her, amplifying the sensations and, with the addition of a well-placed thumb, bringing her closer and closer to climax.
As he established a slow, controlled rhythm with his fingers and his thrusts, Florence rose to meet him until she felt her orgasm roll through her abdomen, rushing through her body in a series of pulsing, throbbing waves. Sam took that as his own cue, thrusting deeper to meet her, and, with a subtle shift of emphasis and a firm, beating rhythm of his own, came a few moments after her.
‘We are so good at that,’ Florence murmured as he collapsed on top of her, bodies entwined in a sweaty but sated heap on the sofa.
‘Definitely,’ Sam agreed, leaning up to kiss her, and somehow managing to discard the condom at the same time. ‘Multitasking,’ he smiled as Florence raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Florence burst out laughing. ‘I’m impressed.’ She shuffled around on the sofa to give them both a little more room, and, despite the warmth of the fire, she was pleased when Sam pulled the soft throw that was draped on the back of it over them both.
‘I think I’m ready for that crème brûlée now,’ she said softly, snuggling into Sam’s chest and wondering if life got any better than this.
28
They did, eventually, make it upstairs to sleep, after demolishing the crème brûlée and a little more wine. As the early morning sun peered warily through the gap in the curtains in Sam’s room, Florence stirred first. She took a moment to look at the man sleeping peacefully beside her, and felt a great surge of affection. Even the persistent voice in her head telling her to keep her distance that had, until last night, been nagging at her in quieter moments had been stilled.
As if subconsciously aware of her scrutiny, Sam’s eyelids fluttered and he looked up at her. For a moment he seemed surprised to see her there, but that was carefully hidden as he focused his gaze on her fully.
‘Hey,’ Florence said softly. ‘You OK?’
Sam smiled. ‘I am. You?’
‘Pretty well, thanks.’ She glanced at the clock on Sam’s bedside table. ‘What time do you have to leave to get to your mum’s?’
Sam looked over. ‘I should probably get off as soon as I can. It’s a long drive, and I can’t help wondering how Mum and Aidan got on overnight!’ He reached for his phone, which was on the other bedside table, and burst out laughing as he saw a rude meme that Aidan had sent him, obviously before he turned in for the night. ‘That well, it seems,’ Sam said, showing the image to Florence.
‘You’d better get your arse in gear and rescue him,’ Florence said. ‘And I’ve got some work to do before my Christmas slobfest really begins.’ She leaned over and kissed him lingeringly on the mouth. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘You don’t have to,’ Sam said. ‘I mean, don’t you want some breakfast?’
Florence smiled. ‘To be honest, after all that wine and the postcoital crème brûlée, I think I’ll skip breakfast and head home, if you don’t mind.’
Sam’s brow wrinkled. ‘Don’t feel you have to rush off on my account.’
‘No, honestly, I’ve got loads to do, and looking at that message, you’d better get going sooner rather than later!’ She went to swing her legs over the side of Sam’s king-sized bed, but he grabbed her and pulled her on top of him.
‘Sure I can’t persuade you to stay in bed a little bit longer?’ he teased.
‘I’d love to,’ Florence said softly. ‘But we’ll have more time when you get back.’
‘Is that a promise?’ Sam’s voice was husky, and for a moment Florence wavered. Things were stirring excitingly below the duvet, and what was half an hour, after all? Regretfully, she shook her head.
‘I promise,’ Florence replied softly. ‘But you really should get going. And all those Christmas films I’ve got on my Netflix playlist won’t watch themselves!’ She wriggled out of his embrace with one final kiss, then pulled on her dress, zipping it up quickly and forgoing her underwear for the short commute home. ‘Text me when you get to your mum’s?’
‘Of course,’ Sam lay back against his pillows, which were still new enough to have a very enticing bounce. ‘But this bed is so warm…’ He had a look on his face that could melt butter from the freezer.
‘Get up!’ Florence chided in her best classroom voice. She was charmed by this new Sam, who seemed so much more relaxed and devil-may-care about his responsibilities, but she wasn’t about to be the reason he was late to his mum’s place for Christmas.
‘OK, OK,’ Sam grumbled good-naturedly. ‘It’s a shame I can’t fly there – the Christmas traffic wouldn’t be a problem, then.’ He threw back the duvet and reached for his clothes, which they’d both managed to bring upstairs before they’d crashed out last night. Pulling on his boxer shorts, wincing slightly at the chill in the air, he padded over to where Florence was standing by his bedroom door.
Florence gasped as he caught her in a tight hug.
‘I’ll text you the minute I get there.’
‘And I’ll see you when you get back,’ Florence replied. She pulled his head down towards her for a last, lingering kiss. ‘Take care,’ she murmured.
‘You too.’
Florence smiled at him one last time before heading out of his bedroom and down the stairs. This must be the shortest ‘walk of shame’ she’d ever had to do, she reflected, as she opened the front door of Number 1, Bay Tree Terrace and hopped over the wall to Number 2. Not for the first time, she wondered what on earth Aunt Elsie would make of the whole thing, if she could see her now.
29
‘Thank Christ you’re here,’ Aidan hissed as, a few hours later, he pulled Sam through the front door of their mother’s dormer bungalow on the outskirts of Cambridge. ‘Mum and Kate are driving me bloody nuts. I’ve had to resort to letting Tom, Will and Corey beat me senseless on Fortnite for the past two hours. At least, with the headphones on, I can’t hear them sniping and moaning!’
Sam shook his head. ‘Sorry, bro. Duty called. But I’m here now.’
‘Duty? Don’t let Florence hear you calling her that,’ Aidan quipped, then grinned more broadly as he clocked the expression on Sam’s face. ‘So, I was right, then? You did invite her over last night?’
‘No comment, little brother.’ Sam brushed past Aidan with a grin and headed into the lounge, where his mother and sister were sitting, sipping a very early glass of sherry and wearing identical, boot-faced expressions. Every time he saw his sister, Sam marvelled at just how much she was turning into their mother. She’d even be dressing like her soon, he thought. As he saw the two of them rising, almost in tandem, to welcome him, he felt a huge pang of loss for his father, who, though basically undemonstrative, had been a gentler, steadying influence.
‘You’ve missed lunch, but dinner’s going to be early so Kate can get the kids to bed at a reasonable time,’ Selina Ellis said crisply. She walked to the dining table where the sherry bottle stood. ‘Drink?’
‘I’ll grab Sam a beer,’ Aidan said hastily. Sam was relieved; his mother had a liking for the sweet stuff and he was definitely in need of something a little more refreshing.
‘Good to see you, Mum,’ Sam said as she refilled her own glass and then popped it down momentarily so that he could kiss her cheek. ‘And you, Katie.’
His sister shot him a ‘don’t call me that�
�� look over the top of her sherry glass but conceded a hug to him. ‘Does this mean I can go off duty and get pissed now you’re here?’
‘Do what you have to do,’ Sam grinned down at his sister. She was the eldest, and wore the mantle like a responsibility. Since Aidan’s discharge from the army, she’d tried to help as much as she could, but with three boys of her own to look after, as well as their recently widowed mother, she already had her hands full.
Sam and Kate might not often see eye to eye, but he did admit that it was nice that all three of them would be in the same room, however briefly, for Christmas. He kept grinning as she went to the sherry bottle and poured another generous measure.
As Aidan returned with a chilled lager from the fridge, and was chided by his mother for not bringing a glass to go with the bottle, Sam took a seat and allowed his nephews, who were nine, eleven and thirteen, to explain to him how Fortnite worked. He was grateful for the distraction. The gaping hole that his father’s death had left in the family was increasingly obvious, and never more so than now it was Christmas. It had been nine months since he’d passed away; this was their first Christmas without him. Sam wondered what he would have made of this situation, where so much could be said about so many things, but everyone was, seemingly with great resolve, saying nothing of any consequence.
He found himself wondering what Florence was up to, and whether she was thinking about him, too. Surreptitiously getting out his phone, he fired off a quick text to her. As he raised his gaze from the screen, he saw his mother scrutinising him, a question in her eyes. Feeling chastised, he shoved his phone on the little table next to the armchair where he was sitting.
‘Who’s Florence?’ Corey, Sam’s eldest nephew, asked as he caught sight of the first line of the text Sam received a few minutes later. He grabbed the phone before Sam could, and Sam heaved an inward sigh of relief that it had a lock on the screen.
‘A friend,’ Sam replied, tickling Corey under the arms and catching the phone as his nephew crumpled in giggles.
‘That’s an understatement,’ Aidan quipped.
‘A good friend,’ Sam replied, shooting a warning glance in his brother’s direction. The last thing he needed was a cross-examination about his love life from either Kate or his mother, or worse, both.
Over dinner, which mercifully, included a lot more wine, Sam began to relax. He felt that, in the presence of his family, he could at least shed some of his self-imposed responsibility for Aidan and his behaviour, and his nephews were good company. After dinner, Kate’s husband Phil had collected their three boys so that Kate could stay on for a few more drinks before walking home, and the three siblings sat around the lounge, each of them regressing a little into the teenagers they used to be, as always happened on these occasions. Selina had gone to bed shortly after dinner, claiming a headache, so, after the inevitable squabbles about what to watch on the television, the three had settled back into an easy quiet. When Aidan nipped into the kitchen to get another beer, Kate turned to her brother.
‘So how are you really, Sam?’ Kate asked, apropos of nothing and into the air that was being warmed by the electric fire.
‘I’m OK,’ Sam replied. ‘Work’s hard, but then what else is new?’
‘And Aidan?’
‘Well, you’ve seen for yourself,’ Sam said. He felt a prickle of irritation. Everything always came back to Aidan.
‘He seems OK,’ Kate said carefully. ‘But there have been one or two moments since he came… I don’t know. I keep trying to tell myself he’s my brother, that I have to be patient, but it’s hard, you know, seeing him so… changed.’
‘You should spend more time with him,’ Sam snapped. ‘Then you’d see it as more of a continuum. Of course he’s going to seem different when you only see him once in a blue moon.’
‘That’s not fair, Sam,’ Kate chided. ‘I’ve had my hands full here with the boys, and coping with Mum after Dad died. I can’t do everything, you know.’ She looked hurt, and Sam immediately regretted his snappish tone.
‘I know, Katie, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. I’ve been doing a lot of night shifts and you never quite get used to them.’ He leaned forward and tilted his head with a rueful smile at his sister. ‘I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, too.’
‘I just miss Dad, you know.’ Kate’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Mum’s pretending she’s OK, but she’s struggling with losing him and what happened to Aidan… and the boys are growing up so fast. Phil’s just, well, Phil, for which I should be grateful, but after all these years, it’s just boring, and I wish you two lived closer.’
Sam was shocked by his sister’s uncharacteristic admission. She was, like her mother, one for keeping her cards close to her chest. But then, he figured, it had been a hell of a couple of years for them all. ‘I miss you too, Katie,’ he said gruffly. ‘And the boys are great. You’re doing something right, there.’ He wondered if he should pick up on the ‘boring’ comment about Kate’s marriage, but, even though she was his sister, he didn’t feel as if he should pry. Kate had never been one to confide details about her relationship with her husband, and it seemed weird to start asking now.
‘Thanks,’ Kate said wryly. ‘And I know you’re not his keeper, but Aidan’s looking really well, too.’ She shuddered. ‘When I remember what he was like in the hospital after it all happened…’
‘Don’t think about it,’ Sam replied. ‘It was the start of a process that he’s going to spend the rest of his life negotiating, one step at a time. And he’s come such a long way since then.’
‘But he’ll never really get over it, will he?’ Kate said, her voice low in case Aidan suddenly made a return from the kitchen. ‘When I think about what you’ve had to manage while you’ve been living with him; the sleepless nights, the changes of mood, not knowing if it was going to be a good day or a bad day…’
‘We can’t look back on what was; it’s about where he’s going that matters.’ Sam held his sister’s gaze. ‘And it’s getting easier, believe me.’
‘Hark at you, Mr Zen!’ Kate teased. ‘He’s not the only one who’s changed.’
Sam’s mind instantly flitted to thoughts of Florence, and he knew he was starting to blush.
‘So, who’s Florence, then?’ Kate asked, as if she’d read his mind.
Aidan, who’d come back into the room, answered before Sam could. ‘Our brother’s got himself a woman,’ he said, passing Kate’s glass, which he’d refilled with white wine from the fridge, to her.
‘Really?’ Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘First one in ages, am I right?’
‘He’s had a bit of a dry spell,’ Aidan grinned as he sat back down. ‘But this one seems to want to stick around.’
Aidan then recounted the story of how Sam had found himself acting opposite Florence in the Willowbury Dramatical Spectacular, but dropped the final bombshell, about her actually living next door, right at the end.
Kate, who Aidan could always make cry with helpless laughter, was wiping her eyes at the end of the tale. ‘Won’t that get a bit awkward if it doesn’t work out?’
‘I don’t think Sam’s thinking with his head right now,’ Aidan said, laughing along with Kate at their brother’s evident embarrassment. ‘Although Florence is a star and he could definitely do worse.’
‘It’s nothing serious,’ Sam muttered, although he could hear the lack of conviction in his own voice. After last night, he definitely felt the opposite.
‘And what about you, littlest brother?’ Kate asked, turning to Aidan. ‘Anyone special in your life since the last time I saw you?’
An uncomfortable pause descended between the three of them that Sam was just about to fill when Aidan finally piped up. ‘Oh, you know me, sis,’ he said, a lightness in his voice that Sam could detect was more than a little forced, ‘I’m happy on my own. Nothing to see here.’
‘Well, you two had better get your acts together soon,’ Kate said, the wine seemingly making her oblivious
to the undercurrent of tension she’d unwittingly created by her question. ‘The boys want cousins, and Mum’s after granddaughters to dress in pink and frilly things, God help them.’
Suddenly, Aidan stood up from where he’d been sitting on the sofa. ‘And on that wonderfully sexist note, I think I’ll turn in. Night sis, night bro.’ He put his virtually untouched bottle of beer on the coffee table, and, without another word to either of them, exited the room.
‘Was it something I said?’ Kate asked as they both heard Aidan’s tread on the stairs.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Sam stretched his legs out in front of him as he sank back into the sofa, the alcohol and the long drive suddenly catching up with him. ‘He can turn on a sixpence sometimes. And you know how he is with Mum. He can’t help thinking he’s been some terrible disappointment, having to come out of the army the way he did.’
‘But that wasn’t his fault; he was lucky to survive!’ Kate protested.
‘He doesn’t see it that way at times,’ Sam said quietly. ‘He’s still processing what happened to him in Helmand. I try to help, but, realistically, it’s beyond me. Until recently he’s been seeing the PTSD counsellor, but his sessions have ended for the time being. It really is one step at a time.’
‘All the same, I reckon there’s something deeper going on,’ Kate said. ‘I mean, why terminate the conversation just because I joked about kids?’
Sam shook his head. ‘The weirdest things can be a trigger. Imagine, sis, if you’d lost yourself on the battlefield, lost everything that makes you yourself, and then had to fight each day to accept that you’re never going to get it all back. Rebuilding yourself from the inside, as well as the outside, can be tiring and frightening. We have to keep remembering that he’s fought an internal battle every day to be where he is now.’
‘I get that,’ Kate said impatiently. ‘I don’t think this is about Helmand. I don’t know… I’ve always just had this sense with Aidan that I’m missing something. Even before Afghanistan. And now, it’s like I just don’t even know who he is any more.’