After a short diversion via Bill Hobart I am back to Lucien and Jean. Hope you like it.
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Jean drove past the turn to the old farm, now abandoned since the Dempster case, and stopped suddenly. There was something different, some kind of post with a notice attached. She reversed, and turned up the track, feeling her heart flutter with nerves.
'SOLD'
She knew the farm was up for sale but up until now nobody had wanted a place that had housed a murderer and where the ground had been poisoned. It looked sad and run down, the barn was barely standing and a good storm would bring it down she felt. There didn't seem to be anyone about so she got out of the car and wandered into the yard. The Aloe plant was thriving, probably the only thing that was.
The door appeared to be open and she pushed it a little wider calling,
'Hello! Anybody there?' There was no answer, the place seemed deserted. She tiptoed in, so aware it was no longer her home, hadn't been for so long, so much had happened since she had sold it herself. She moved around the house hearing the sounds of her boys running through the rooms, the laughter and tears of past years. She hoped a family had bought it, it was a good place to bring up children, room for them to play. There was the smell of mild damp, of a house so long unoccupied. She peered into what had been her living room, a bed roll was by the fire, which appeared to have been lit at some time, probably the previous night. Somebody was living here. That made her nervous and she decided she'd better leave.
Back outside she couldn't see anyone and decided to leave before she was charged with trespass by whoever owned the place now.
She got in the car and drove back thoughtfully to Ballarat and her husband.
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He watched her go and smiled. He hadn't wanted to disturb her as she wandered through her memories and had stayed out of sight. She was not a threat. He went inside and made a cup of tea. Ruth Dempster's old stove worked enough for him to boil a kettle and fry some bacon. It was one of the first places he decided he needed to sort out. He needed to make the place earn it's keep, and he had thought that he would resurrect the orchard. The soil was still not good enough to grow much where the lettuces had once grown. He hoped at some point that it would produce perhaps strawberries or gooseberries. His idea, somewhat grand for a young man, was to turn it into a market garden, to produce fruit to sell either at the market or direct from the farm. He'd like, in the future, to supply local hotels and restaurants, there were enough in Ballarat to make a reasonable living from. For now he would have to be careful with the money he had made working on farms or building sites, saving his wages by sleeping in the cheapest of boarding houses or under the stars in the warm weather. His past was just that, past, and he wanted to show his family he could make a decent living and keep out of trouble.
So back to the orchard. A couple of apple trees, plum and pear, stood as they had all those years ago, in need of pruning but they looked like they had produced a good crop the previous year, if the fallen fruit was anything to go by. He would need to buy more trees; there was already an apple farm so he'd concentrate on the other fruits more than those, but he'd keep a few going. He wondered if peaches would grow. Two trees would be a good starting point, he thought.
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Jean unloaded her shopping, still musing on the farm. Lucien had heard the car draw up and went to help her, kissing her as she handed him a basket.
'Get everything you wanted?' he asked, noticing she seemed distracted.
'Hmm...Oh, yes.' she muttered as she followed him into the house.
'Something wrong, Jean?' He put the basket on the table and started to put the food away. 'Jean?' She hadn't answered him.
'Uh, oh, sorry, Lucien.' She smiled realising she had been miles, and years, away. 'I passed the farm on the way back.'
'Ok, I didn't think you were going that far out.' She had, as far as he knew, only gone to Ballarat market, not out any further. Not that he minded, it was just odd, that was all.
'It's been sold.' She told him. 'Somebody's there.'
He looked at her, puzzled.
'I went up to the house. It was unlocked,' she looked a little shamefaced at admitting she had been snooping, 'there was a bedroll in the living room.'
'Did you meet the new owner?'
'No, when I realised there was someone there I made a quick getaway.' She flushed, embarrassed.
'Perhaps you'd better wait for an invitation next time.' He suggested and wrapped his arms round her, kissing the top of her head.
'So many memories, Lucien.' She whispered into his chest.
'We could make some more, if you like.' She looked up at him, he had a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he pulled her close to him, leaving her in no doubt what he meant.
'Lucien,' she said in an urgent whisper. She was quickly learning her new husband had an almost insatiable appetite for her body. That said, she wasn't complaining, and Charlie was on a late shift today so wouldn't be in for dinner! Then she giggled as his desire became more apparent.
He bent over her and kissed her, very deliberately. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He'd found the only conservative thing about his new wife was that she insisted they satisfy their desires in the bedroom. She didn't mind how they satisfied them, just that it was in the bedroom. He'd tried to interest her in a tumble by the fire in the studio, a fumble in the surgery but no, it had to be the bedroom, well at the moment.
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He'd been surprised on their wedding night how willing she was, willing to learn new ways to be pleased by him and new ways to please him. They had managed to leave their hotel room by mid morning each day, on their short honeymoon, but would return for an early dinner, served in their room, and more exploration of each other's bodies. So much to make up for.
She had surprised herself, after the first tentative touching how much she wanted him, and gave herself to him more completely than she had ever done Christopher. Lucien excited and thrilled her every time he found a place he hadn't kissed or caressed and places he had.
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As he placed her gently back on her feet she started to undo his shirt buttons as he drew the zip down the back of her dress. Their undressing of each other became frantic. As his shirt was lifted off his shoulders she moved her hands down to his trousers and he pulled her dress down, both garments fell to the floor, the rest came off as he pushed her back onto the bed and took her round the world and back again. She arched under him gasping and crying out with pleasure, then sinking back onto the bed, breathing hard. He pulled the blanket round them and they lay touching and kissing, finger light touches that made her shiver and want him again. They made love again, slowly, thoughtfully, taking their time to enjoy each other.
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He lay looking at her curled towards him, sleeping like an innocent child. She was so beautiful to him, he cherished her more than life itself. Seventeen years was a long time to wait for this kind of love. He slipped his arms round her and held her gently, not wanting to let her go.
She stirred and sighed. She knew she should get up and do something useful, like finish putting the shopping away or make dinner, but she was warm and comfortable where she was. She opened one eye and looked at him, as usual he was smiling at her and she smiled back.
'Hello, lover,' she murmured.
'Hello, you wicked lady, ' he whispered back.
'I've been hi-jacked again, haven't I?' She grinned, lazily.
'Uh uh.' He kissed her, 'looks like.'
'Oh well, as we're here...' And she smirked at him.
'Bloody hell,' he grinned.
'You started it.' She laughed and kissed him before sliding out of the bed and heading for the bathroom to tidy up. she didn't need to dress again, they'd have retired to bed before Charlie came home, so she tied her robe around her naked, but marked body, and went to prepare a light supper.
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Came very close to M there, need to rein it in a bit.
Reviews and comments very welcome, have I gone too far?