Teresa sat staring out of the front window of the cottage. It had been an unseasonably grey day, the mood of which was further overshadowed by Alison once again being summoned to the police station that morning. Teresa had watched her go and had tried to raise a smile when Alison stared back at her through the window of the officer's car. Despite her stoic appearance, Teresa could see the torment that was going through her friend's head. Ever since her initial arrest, Alison had been withdrawn, twitchy, fussy over strange things like how crockery was aligned on the dresser, but yet her desk had become more haphazard than usual. She'd even begun to lose interest in walking Boris around the village, often suggesting that she, Teresa, could do with getting some fresh air before handing her his lead. She understood why and took no offense. If she had had to deal with every trouble she'd faced alone for over twenty-three years, she too would want to withdraw from the world.
A series of barks from Boris brought Teresa's attention back to the present. A car was pulling away from the house and a pained looking Alison was approaching the front door. She jumped up from her chair and sprang towards the hallway. Alison stepped through the door, her face a shade of grey. Dark circles framed her blue eyes, far colder than normal, which, Teresa, thought, bared the faintest evidence of previous tears. Teresa silently took Alison's coat and hat and placed her slippers in front of her. Alison slid her feet into her slippers, ignored an excitable Boris, whose tail was wagging furiously against her stockinged shins. Taking Alison's hand gently in her own, she led her into the front room, settled her into a chair, and went to put the kettle on.
As she returned, she asked, "so what did they want this time?"
"Same as last time," Alison replied, "to ask me questions relating to the charges they've brought against me."
"Have they charged you yet?" Teresa asked.
"No, not yet," Alison replied, "but surely it's only a matter of time. I knew what I was doing and I knew it was illegal."
"But you were forced to!" Teresa protested, "surely you've told them that? Surely they'll understand that?"
At that moment, the kettle began to sing on the stove. As Teresa was about to head into the kitchen to make a pot of tea, she turned to Alison and said, "have you eaten since breakfast?"
Alison shook her head and replied, "The local constabulary do not seem too keen on catering for suspects, and having seen the state of the ladies' lavatory, I'm very glad I wasn't offered anything." She gave a slight shudder at the recollection but added coyly, "but when you've got to go…"
"I'll make some toast," Teresa suggested, realising that she too had not eaten enough that day, "we've still got enough butter. Do you want jam on yours?" she asked.
"Your culinary expertise stretches to toast and jam then?" Alison replied, allowing the faintest of smiles to flicker across her face.
"That's more like it," Teresa replied, overjoyed to see Alison showing some of her familiar sparkle.
Teresa returned five minutes later with a tray of tea and toast, and having assured that Alison received the least charred of the slices, poured them both a cup of tea and settled into a chair opposite Alison. The caffeine and sugar did wonders for Alison, the colour flooded back to her cheeks and she began to settle. Teresa knew that if Alison wanted to talk she would, she just needed to wait and be there. Eventually, her patience was rewarded.
"What should I do?" Alison asked.
"Tell the truth," Teresa advised, "if you don't," she continued, ignoring the fact that Alison's face had fallen slightly "you'll be in even more trouble."
"So often I've lied to stay out of trouble," Alison mused, "admitting the truth seems almost a strange concept. Hiding in the shadows, behind a facade, I almost feel like I've forgotten how to be honest."
"Don't say that," Teresa insisted, "you are not dishonest, nor are you a liar, you've just, had to survive. Just like me. You've just done what you needed to do to protect yourself. And to that end, this time, honesty is the only way you are going to protect yourself."
"You're right, of course," Alison admitted, "I've just been running for so long. Even when George was alive, we ran from the problem in our relationship, his wife. Since he died, I've been treading the path of life alone. Completely alone. Well, apart from Boris and his predecessor. I have not spoken to my family since they disowned me for running away with a married man. Until you came," she finished.
"Was there never a child?" Teresa asked.
"No, nothing like that," Alison murmured, a tinge of sadness in her voice, "we tried of course, but it wasn't to be. George's marriage was childless, I think it was one of the reasons he left his wife. I wonder sometimes, if he had lived, what it would have been like, motherhood and that sort of thing. I hoped, I prayed, after he went back to sea for the last time, but no."
"And there was never anyone else?" Teresa asked.
"By the time the War was over I was pushing thirty, and eligible men were in rather short supply, for obvious reasons. So I settled down to, what it turned out to be, eternal, well, I can't say widowhood can I really? Eternal solitude."
"Until I showed up, needing a roof over my head and causing no end of bother."
Alison and Teresa's glances met for a moment. Neither quite able to express what they were feeling. Eventually Alison began, "You know something, when you held me, after Boris got the all clear from the vets, that was the first time anyone had truly, lovingly, embraced me since I said goodbye to George for the last time."
"What?" Teresa stammered.
"Oh, people have offered a gentle arm here and there, a pat on the back, that sort of thing, but never anything as warm, caring, heartfelt as you."
"Alison," Teresa breathed sympathetically, moving off her chair and balancing herself on the arm of Alison's. She gently put her arm around Alison's shoulders. Alison flinched slightly at the contact. "Sorry," Teresa said, retracting her arm.
"It's not you, it's me," Alison remarked, "old injury, it's feeling very stiff at the moment."
"I can help," Teresa suggested.
"What do you mean?" Alison asked.
Teresa slid off the arm of the chair and pulled Alison's desk chair over to her. She indicated to Alison to move onto the other chair. With a degree of hesitancy and slight trepidation, Alison complied with her young companion's wishes.
"If you want me to stop, at any point, I will," Teresa advised.
"I don't know what you're going to start," Alison replied.
"I'm going to rub your neck and your shoulders," Teresa informed her, "just very gently to begin with, if you don't like it, I'll stop."
Alison made no further comment, which Teresa took as silent consent. She began to gently massage Alison's neck and shoulders. "No wonder you're in pain," she said after a moment, "your muscles are so tense. Try to let them sink to the floor if you can. Shutting your eyes can help too," she advised.
Nervously, Alison closed her eyes and immediately felt her shoulders drop several inches further below her ears. Teresa's soft, pliable hands migrated up and down her neck and between her shoulder blades, before stretching out across her shoulders to the tops of her arms. The pain relief was wonderful but as Teresa continued, another pleasant, long forgotten, sensation began to grip Alison. As Teresa's movements became more sweeping a tingling sensation began to radiate out from where her hands had touched, rippling down her back, into her legs and down her arms. A wonderful sense of contentment began to flood through her.
"If you purr any louder Boris is going to think that a cat has got into the house," Teresa observed, her words bringing Alison back to reality.
"What? What was I doing? What do you mean?" Alison panicked.
"Shush," Teresa soothed, "you were clearly enjoying yourself. There's no shame in that, a massage is meant to feel good." Her hands continued their gentle, sweeping motion across Alison's upper back.
"It's just been so long since, well, anyone, anything, has made me feel so..." Unable to vocalise what she was feeling, she allowed her voice to trail off.
"Happy? Safe? Content? Loved? Aroused?" Teresa suggested.
"I beg your pardon!" Alison snapped.
"Sorry, about the last one," Teresa apologised. Her hands were still in amongst the folds of Alison's blouse. She didn't dare move them. She stood, waiting.
"I think you hit the nail on the head lass," Alison admitted, "but, I shouldn't feel that way. I'm not like you. Sorry," she said immediately, "that was wrong of me."
"Every human being needs someone to love, and to be loved," Teresa said kindly, her hands moving from Alison's shoulders to gently around her neck. She placed her cheek tenderly so that it just brushed against Alison's. Alison leaned into Teresa's contact, feeling the warmth of the younger woman against her. Teresa continued, "you're a woman Alison, a woman who has been starved of love, starved of companionship, starved of the ability to freely admit who she is. I'm not surprised you reacted so kindly to a little bit of love and someone seeing you for who you are."
"It's not because you touched me?" Alison asked.
"I think you would have purred like a content cat if any man or woman in the world rubbed your pains away," Teresa replied.
Alison allowed herself a smile before wriggling out of Teresa's embrace, spinning round on the chair to face her and saying, hesitantly, "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Teresa replied.
"When you, massaged, me, did you, feel, anything? Did it, make you, happy?" Alison stammered.
"I imagine only the coldest and cruelest of people in this world do not feel a sense of contented happiness when they do something kind to another human being," Teresa replied.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Alison replied, the faintest hint of frustration in her voice in suspicion of being teased.
"If you want to know if what I did to you made me feel like I was with Connie, or any of my other lovers, then no," Teresa responded firmly and truthfully.
"Well, that's a relief," Alison replied in mock joy, "oh come here," she added, getting to her feet and embracing Teresa, far more tightly than she had ever done before. After a moment, Alison continued, "do you want to do something else for me that will make me very happy?"
Teresa pulled out of Alison's embrace just enough to be able to look her in the eye. "What?" she asked.
"Crack on with peeling the potatoes for dinner, neither of us can survive very long on burnt toast," Alison replied with the most mischievous giggle Teresa had ever heard her manage.
"Yes Alison!" Teresa replied.