I don't own thunderbirds or 'A Place called home' that belongs to Kim Richey.
Okay. I had originally planned Saving Grace as the end to my series, but since people said in their reviews for risk assessment they wanted a happy ending. I felt guilty. So after much deliberation I wrote this story 'Come Home' as an alternate ending.
Come Home
Clothes packed, bag zipped, coat on.
Escape Is Go!
12 shirts, 8 pairs of trousers, 4 tops, 1 tux, 5 pairs of shoes, CDs and a host of other small essentials are crammed into one bag.
Its midnight and dead silence on Tracy Island. Whilst the element of Metal Gear Solid is giving me a small rush theres no need to Indiana Jones this.
But it requires some panache to really make it worthwhile. On that I leave the note 'Gone Fishing' on my stripped bed open the window and put my carefully laid plan into action. With practised ease Harrison Ford could be proud of I tied a rope to the balcony and abseil smoothly down to the pool perimeter and skilfully dart through the bushes and off the island with the stealth of Sam Fisher.
Once on the mainland I slip a hat over my blond locks, put some tinted glasses and take a cab to the airport. Less than four hours later I'm on a flight to Boston.
I arrive in the afternoon and hail a second cab. A short eternity later and I'm at my destination. I pay and tip the cab driver, wait till he's pulled away, take off my hat and glasses and head up to the door.
Three consecutive knocks later and it's opened. My closest friend, queen of all things British and sarcastic answers the door in her pyjamas. Pleasantries, hugs, catching up and the consuming of strong coffee and alcohol. I haven't felt this good in ages. I explain I quit my job, and am moving into communications as the stars have had their time.
Things fell into place. I started my new job and stayed with the most beautiful woman in the world. I was going places. The forensic psychologist switched to day shift so she could spend more time with me. Her books were a massive success the third dedicated to me. I had the time of my life. We went dancing, had meals. Dated, kissed, consummated
And finally one night I proposed. A silver engagement ring with a diamond elegant and her size (I borrowed one of hers to get the correct fit).
One night not long after we got engaged my father visited. Asked me to come home. I told him I was already there. We argued and he left, disowning me. And yelling my brothers were going to do the same.
We had a spring wedding with just the Marine Biologist and Judge in attendance. They slept together and were engaged a year later.
Not long after our wedding I was to be a father. It soon turned out to be twins. I was happy; I had a wife, soon a family and years ahead.
We chose not to be told the genders as we wanted a surprise. In the forth month my wife was confined to bed because of Pre-eclampsia. She spent her time on the downstairs sofa bed dieting on daytime TV and cereal bars. She was tried, irritated and grouchy because she couldn't have coffee but continued to blossom each day her expanding stomach giving her restless nights.
About a week before they were due we had a surprise visit from Gordon who just wanted to talk. That turned out to be quite a day. No sooner had we hugged, manly of course my beautiful wife, forensic psychologist and mother of my twins took my hand and told me "John sweetie, I'm going into labour."
To which I fainted.
I'm told by Gordon she went into commando mode and started ordering him to wake me up, fetch her suitcase and drive her to the hospital. And fourteen agonising hours later (for the both of us) our son and daughter were in the world. Jonathan and Isabella.
My forensic psychologist put her career on hold to care for our children. Embracing motherhood to its fullest. Not long after the Marine Biologist was pregnant.
We also visited the University where we all met. We all did a lecture. And we met four students not, unlike ourselves. We mentored them, the new generation of Law, Marine Biology, Forensic Psychology and Communications. They became our protégées. They followed their dreams.
Our twins grew up. My son the spitting image of me. My daughter the spitting image of her mother.
I never reconciled with my father or my other brothers. Gordon visits from time to time with his wife and three kids. Thunderbird 5 rotates automatically. They're all married with kids of their own. IR is still going.
Jonathan took up computer sciences. Isabella, pathology.
The Judge and Marine biologist have two kids; they along with our twins grew up to be brilliant people, forging ahead in their fields.
I am fulfilled. Content. We lived our lives how we wanted. We became our own people. We helped others. With our money we built centres for our fields, to help generations to come achieve their dreams. Help make the world a better place.
I never regretted leaving the island. I miss my brothers. I often wonder what would have happened if I'd never left. But I did what was right for me.
The twins are grown up now and are leaving for University. The night before they fly the nest I heard voices singing. My wife did to. We followed the sound to the balcony between the twins' rooms. Approaching the French window softly we could make out the words. It was the song my forensic psychologist would sing. Someday they'll find their place. Till then well, they'll live their lives. We stand listening to the song thinking back on our lives. Thinking how lucky we are.
Someday I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow
'Til then, I travel alone
And I make my bed with the stars above my head
And I dream of a place called home
How lucky that we found our place called home.