Chapter nine

They worked together to clean up the kitchen. Even something as mundane as that was good. She could sense that he was opening up inside. He would never be very good at small talk but that's ok. He says what he needs to say. "Just don't mess it up! Don't push. Listen to his body when he's not talking. Remember the list!" she thought.

He was having thoughts too. "She says she loves me. How could she? Like Roger said, I'm a miserable bugger. Except when I'm with her. She doesn't only make my heart sing, she lights it up. Watch what you say. She's so lovely!"

They walked to the lounge together and she sat down on the couch. To her dismay, he sat well away from her and started fidgeting with some journals on the table by his side. He did take off that infernal jacket. "I don't know what to do to entertain you. Do you want to watch the television? All my magazines are medical journals."

He was nervous, he was fidgeting and looked almost miserable. But, his eyes flickered to her

often like he couldn't keep them off her. Ok, let's try this.

"One thing about you is that you're totally honest. Ok, I'm going to totally honest with you. I want to talk a little. Anything you ask me I'll give an honest answer. Go ahead."

"This is something that baffles me every time I think about it. I feel that I know everything about you that's important but I don't understand your attachment to this village of the damned. Especially to Bert! Bert of all people! With your ability and skills, you could get a job anywhere. In London or…well, anywhere making a lot more money and the prestige that goes along with it."

Her body stiffened a little at the slur against the village but, remember the list, he seems to really hate it here. She answered simply, "It's my home. These people are my family."

"But why?! A lot of them act like they're allergic to basic hygiene. They don't listen to medical advice. They gossip about everything! I don't understand you."

"So you're telling me that there's no one in this whole village that you like or even respect. No one?"

He could tell she had tensed up. She had just said that this was her home and the people were her family. You just insulted her and the whole village! Got to do better than that! He sat and thought and she was careful to not appear impatient. "There's you obviously. And, believe it or not, I respect Mrs. Tishell. She's the most annoying person in the world but she knows her job. Very knowledgeable. I like and respect Al. He wants to improve himself and I admire that in anyone. Peter Cronk and his Mother are very special people. Usually people as smart as he is can be total arses. But he's not. The men who trained for rescue boat duty appear rough but they're all well trained and dedicated to their jobs. Very brave, too. And Roger Fenn is an intelligent man that I can easily have a conversation with. Shall I go on?"

"No, that's a good start. But I hope you realize how many people here respect you and are willing to be your friends. Not up to London standards maybe, but good and honest people. I don't want to bring up a sore subject but all that stuff this afternoon? They're happy for us and were trying to show you. That's all."

He made a face at that but didn't argue. "But you still haven't told me why your attachment is so strong."

She sat quietly, hands folded. As bad as he was at reading body language, he could see how uncomfortable she was. "If you'd rather not talk about it.."

"No, I said I'd answer you. First, have you never wondered where my parents are?" He shook his head no and she continued, "My mother and father were never happy together. I think they only married because she got pregnant with me. All I can remember is the fighting. When Dad managed to get a job, his earnings always went to his gambling, his next sure thing. When the sure thing didn't happen, then the pub got what little money was left. Mom worked here and there. Her jobs didn't last long. Money seemed to disappear when she was around. When I was six, she left. With a good looking, smooth talking Spaniard. I hated him. Dad tried to straighten up but, before long, his sure thing landed him in prison for fraud. So, I was left in a house with no electricity or food. I had just turned seven. Bert came and got me. I was crying, cold and hungry. He wrapped me in his coat and carried me to his house. He was a lot skinnier then and quite handsome. You've know that his wife died? Well, that was Mary. She fed me hot soup and milk, gave me a bath (I'm quite sure that I wasn't very clean!) cut off one of her gowns for me to sleep in and put me to bed. They were so kind! Mary must have put out a call because the next day, clothes showed up for me to wear. Your Aunt Joan and Mrs. Fharrot made sure that I had school uniforms. There were no remarks, no pity from anyone. I was part of the village and we take care of our own. Bert and Mary raised me. The village helped support me. When I needed something for school or an outside activity, it appeared. When Al was born, he was like my baby brother. I was his first and only baby sitter. By the way, when Dad got out of prison, he didn't come back here. Just left me to whatever. And I got one letter from my Mum when I was about six-teen. The village made sure I made it to university. Everybody knew I wanted to be a teacher. So as soon as an opening came up, I applied and have been there ever since. I owe this village everything I can give it. Do you understand a little now?"

He sat quietly and gave her his whole attention. When she finished, he nodded his head. "Yes, I understand. My parents were rubbish, too. but that's for another night. Hopefully in the far, far distant future. Would you like a cup of tea or maybe some coffee?"

She looked at him and slowly shook her head.

"Television? I wish I had some books to offer you."

Again, that shake of her head. He was beginning to tense up, not sure what he was supposed to do when she decided to show him. She got up, kicked off her shoes and politely straddled his lap. "May I show you what I have in mind?"

He caught on and, for once in his life, went with the flow. His voice was warm and husky, "Yes, but I'm a slow learner and will probably need repeat lessons." His hands went under her shirt to stroke that smooth skin. Her smell was intoxicating! What is that smell?

"Good thing I'm a teacher. I can do repeat lessons all day long." She smoothed his hair, stroked his ears and neck and then started giving him little butterfly kisses everywhere but his mouth. He moved his head trying to catch her lips but she just moved a little further. Her hands were busy with his tie and then the buttons of his shirt. She worked the shirt off his shoulders, "Your skin is so warm…and smooth." Little nipping kisses followed her words. He groaned and reached for her head and brought her mouth to his. They kissed deeply, teeth lightly scraping and tongues dancing. He couldn't get to her properly so he lifted her to lay her across his lap and partly resting against the side of the couch. Now his hands could explore, touch and tease. Her bra was loosened and pushed up away from her breasts. He paused to just look at their perfection. Then his lips started exploring along with his hands. She moaned and arched her back pushing her bottom into his lap. Feeling his excitement increased her desire to a fever pitch. "Martin. Oh my God! Martin!" Hearing the passion in her words started pushing him over the edge. "Are you ready for this? Are you sure?" He could barely get the words out. She was beyond making a coherent sentence so she just moaned and nodded yes. He lifted her off his lap, stood and led her to the stairs. They walked up side by side, their hands busy and clothes coming off and dropping carelessly on the steps. When they finally made it to the bedroom, they stood pressed tightly against each other, kissing deeply. When they were finally naked, they both stared like they were memorizing every inch and freckle. He picked her up and laid her on his bed. Grabbing a condom and putting it on was just a second's delay.

Now they are ready and need their privacy. Let's give it to them. I will tell one secret – Martin excelled himself in the bed. Which means that Louisa did, too. Which means that both will be ready for repeats as often as possible. Good night.