March 1998
Ella Stringer squared her shoulders and braved the throng of people queueing for Harrod's opening its doors for the spring sale. After moping around most of autumn and winter after her divorce she had decided to let the spring sun pick her up. Getting a haircut had been the first step, then her friends had treated her to a day at the spa for her birthday in February. As most of the weekends following that had brought rain and cold winds to London Ella had used the time to pick through her wardrobe, discarding most of it. When moving from the house to her flat everything had to be done quickly, she had simpley thrown bales of clothing into boxes even though there was no room for everything in the flat.
A year ago today her husband of twentytwo years had told her that he wanted a fresh start with his younger girlfriend and that they would have to sell the house in New Eltham – too big now anyway with the children away at university most of the year. Ella had known her marriage to have gone a bit stale, had noticed James taking more care about his appearance lately but hat put the first down to being a couple for twentyodd years and the second to a touch of midlife crisis. They had married at nineteen, had two children in quick succession while still being students and had – at least in her opinion – worked very well as parents. If asked she would have always said James to be her closest confidante. What hurt most about the whole affair was the secrecy. Only weeks before her husband's staggering announcement they had made tentative plans for their first holiday without children.
Said children, Catherine and Henry, were not as surprised as Ella. They earnestly assured their mother that they had not know about Gabriela, their father's young colleague and now lover, but – having seen and heard about detoriating marriages from their friends – had already expected a separation sooner or later. Ella's family in Devon had taken the news stoically but James' father Rupert had been deeply ashamed of his son's behaviour. The old gentleman was incensed on her behalf and would not be swayed even by her earnest entrities that a failed marriage usually had two participants.
"That may be, dearest, but if you fell head over heels for a young colleague – wouldn't you either not act on these feelings or separate first and jump into bed with him later? I raised my son to be an honorable man and I was quite convinced that I provided him with enough intelligence and education for him not to be led around by his balls! When my wife was ill the last years of her life, don't you think I was tempted? It would have been so easy to betray her."
Rupert, whose hip had been bothering him for years, transferred the deed to his flat, two bedrooms, third floor without an elevator in Golder's Green, to his ex-daughter-in-law with the provision of not selling it without consent from both his grand-children. The old man then moved to an easy access garden flat in Tunbridge Wells where Ella visited whenever she could. James had been furious but Rupert stood firm on his decision. The New Eltham house sold very well and without having to pay rent and her half of the sale Ella was rather well off. Gabriela might have been a tad disappointed that James' half did not go far in the more fashionable parts of London but it couldn't be helped.
After her father-in-law had been so generous towards her she had even considered offering James a bigger share of the house-sale but Rupert and even the children had been against it. Cath remarked, "You have paid just as much as Dad for the house and did most of the work in and around it. Why would you now take less than your half? Dad's beef is with Grandpa, not with you. And it is not as if you could sell Grandpa's flat and spend the money on a toy-boy, is it?"
Ella had no answer to that. She used the second bedroom for storage – the children's drawings from the time on they were able to hold a crayon, lots of pictures, some baby clothes, her parents' fine china – and changed very little in the flat safe new mattresses. Christmas the children and she spent in Tunbridge Wells while James and Gabriela were on the Maledives. Cath and Henry came back with their mother to London and were much more able to let go of their childhood mementos than Ella. After the tornado her children were she had a serviceable guest bedroom with only a small stack of boxes in the corner.
The three of them watched the New Year's fireworks from Hampstead Heath and had another day together before the children had to leave for their universities again – Catherine in her third year of Engineering Mathematics in Bristol and Henry in his first of Marine Biology in Bangor.
Inside Harrods Ella was bypassing the perfume stalls and took the escalator upstairs. Her destination today was the lingerie department, she wanted to treat herself to one or two nice new bras a step above the model she always bought at Marks & Spencer. Her eyes fell on a suspender belt. It was dark green, broad enough to reach from waist to the hips and the material had a subdued sheen. The garment was classy and luxurious and just her size. Ella stroked slowly over the unobtrusive lace and did a mental calculation. If she bought the suspender belt she would need to buy new bras elsewhere, not at Harrods. She was about to put it back when a man spoke up behind her, "Don't. Buy it. Just imagine the feel of wearing it under a sensible skirt. With the snap when you clip your stockings on you know that you are special. With that garment you will walk straighter and you will have an armour against all the pettiness around you. You might wait for your bus and the spring breeze will caress you in a way no man ever could."
The voice came from quite a bit above her, in a gruff Scottish accent. Not a young voice either. Ella turned around and beheld a man in a frock coat over a vest and dark woollen trouser, grey-blond hair tied at the nape. A broad mouth and laughter lines around dark grey eyes completed the picture. Over his arm were hanging several pieces of high-quality lingerie in a small size. She pointed with her chin at the garments.
"Why would I take advice from a man shopping for a woman at least half his age?"
"Because I admire and respect women of all ages and sizes and that is why I am shopping for my friend's girlfriend when she appeared at my doorstep with only the clothes on her back as he would literally not know where to start."
He sounded sincere and it wasn't Ella's business anyway for whom the Scot was shopping. She gave him a nod and went for the changing rooms. Inside the cubicle she felt that the stranger was right, the suspender, even though her old bra did really not match it, did something to her stance and to her sense of self-esteem.
Queueing for the till the blond man, now equipped with several bags, approached Ella again and put a bag with silk stockings in her hands.
"No nylon with that. It's already paid for, the receipt is in the bag. Show the ungrateful cad who left you what he's missing." With that statement he motioned at her left hand where the indention of her wedding ring was still visible.
"I could be widowed for all you know."
The stranger looked at her earnestly, "I do not think you are the kind of woman who would leave her wedding ring off if she were recently widowed, no."
With another nod he was off before Ella could protest against being gifted with silk stockings. Back at home she noticed a mobile number written in ink on the back of the receipt for the stockings. She tried to remember the last time a man had asked for her number or offered his and could not. With a smile she put the little piece of paper on the fridge under a magnet of the lighthouse at St. Ives.
The next weekend Ella found herself at loose ends. Her friend Hattie had cancelled their outing due to migraine but Ella had been looking forward to visiting the National Gallery again and therefore was prepared to go alone. On a whim she dressed carefully, the new green bra was a shade darker than the suspender belt but still looked good. The dark grey crepe dress was comfortable and demure but fit her very well. Black jacket, a colourful scarf and black kitten heels completed the look.
It must have been nearly ten years since she'd been there but the Sainsbury wing enchanted Ella like on her first visit. She vowed to herself to plan such outings more often now. During the last years of her marriage weekends had been spent either with housework or gardening, going to Henry's rugby matches or Catherine's football games or entertaining a small circle of friends. On workdays she had used to rush home. Thankfully Ella's job at the archives of the Ministry of Defence in Whitehall provided regular hours, otherwise her working full-time would not have been possible. During the early years James' mother and father had helped a lot, when both children were old enough for school Ella used to start as early as seven while James handled breakfast before leaving for his own job at National Westminster in Bexley Heath.
The National Gallery was well attended this Saturday but in the Sainsbury wing not overcrowded. Ella got some looks from other visitors, male ones, that pleased her. Back outside on Trafalgar Square she tried to decide whether to visit a book shop or rather stop by a café. Walking into a direction that would bring her nearer to both her options she noticed a phone booth. Her work at the MOD archives had her memorising long reference numbers every day, therefore a mobile number was no great challenge for Ella. She dug into her jacket pocket. If she had enough change there and if she remembered the number correctly then calling the blond stranger from Harrods was the thing to do. She had enough change and he answered on the fourth ring.
"Yaxley."
"Hello Mr Yaxley, this is Ella Stringer. We met at Harrods."
"Hello Mrs Stringer. How do you do?"
"Fine, fine. I just came out of a museum and found myself at loose ends."
"Well I am in London, entirely superfluous in my own household and therefore at your command. Café or pub?"
Ella fleetingly thought of strong hands stroking along the ribbons of her suspender belt under a table and answered, "Pub."
"I am rather fond of either the Lamb & Flag in Covent Garden or the Spaniard's Inn on Hampstead Heath unless you have other suggestions? I am roughly the same distance from both."
"I can be at the Lamb & Flag in about 25 minutes if that suits."
"Right, I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Mrs Stringer."
When she put the receiver down Ella was a bit apprehensive over her own impulsiveness. She did not fear what would happen but rather what she wished would happen. Lately she had been thinking a lot about her own wishes, what she wanted to see and experience. Her marriage bed had not been disappointing per se but not very adventurous either. James was very much a creature of habit, which was now Gabriela's problem. A man who gave advice to strange women at Harrods would surely know what he wanted. She could decide later if she wanted, too.
During the short walk to Covent Garden Ella could not help but notice the effect on one hand the imminence of her first date since her divorce and on the other hand her clothes and what her date thought of them had on her. She felt the wind caress her calves over the silk stockings, she felt the ribbons smooth over her thighs when walking, she felt her nipples tightening when she thought of how her new bra had looked today when she'd viewed herself in the mirror. Sure, her body looked like that of a plump woman of forty who had born and nursed two children but it was nothing to be ashamed of. She might look ridiculous in something like leggins but quite attractive in a classic skirt or even in jeans and a blouse.
Lunch over and the happy hour not quite there the pub was sparsely populated. Thankfully Yaxley was already there, occupying a corner booth. He stood and seemed to be unsure whether to shake her hand or kiss her cheek. Ella took action and brushed her lips over his cheek. He smelled as good as she remembered from Harrods, pipe-smoke, oldfashioned cologne and a little bit of something else, something sharp like the air after lightning.
"I'm Corban, but most just call me Yaxley or Yax."
"Ella."
There was a glass of what looked like soda water on the table.
"I thought if we could agree on a bottle of wine we could share one, their wine-menu is uninspired but solid, or we go for the hard stuff."
Ella looked over at the bar and saw a bottle of Masons Yorkshire gin there.
"I'd like a G&T, please."
Corban put her jacket over a chair and went to order. Ella sat down, rather nervous all of a sudden. Her date picked that up when he put her drink and his single malt down on the table.
"Overwhelmed by your own courage, are you?"
"Well, I usually tend not to call strangers whose numbers I find in a packet of stockings. I surprised myself there."
"If said strangers give sound fashion advise? I've been told every woman needs a man with an eye for such."
"I really cannot tell."
They clinked their glasses and made a token attempt at small-talk. Work proved to be a dead-end as Corban said to be under a confidentiality agreement that allowed him not to tell any details. Ella, much the same, was only allowed to say that she worked in a administrative position for a governmental department. With an unholy grin that belied his age Yaxley proceeded, "Work is out of the way, the weather's been fine, now to the interesting topics: did you and your new suspender belt become good friends yet?"
"I wouldn't have called you otherwise."
His eyebrows shot up and, much to Ella's relief, as she felt woefully out of practice with flirting, his hand brushed against her thigh under the table. She moved her leg some millimetres in his direction and was rewarded with the whole, warm hand resting on her leg, fingers tentatively searching for the strips and clips through the fabric of her dress. There was one burning question, however, before things could progress.
"Forgive me, but this is of importance for me – are you in any kind of comitted relationship?"
Corban smiled and shook his head, "I am not. And I do not plan to settle down, it would be very unwise right now in my line of work. I have never been married and have no children. Im my twenties it looked like that's were I was headed but then I was away quite some time. - But you aren't looking for earnest declarations of ever-lasting love, are you?"
Not it was Ella's turn to smile, "No. As much honesty as is polite and feasible and maybe a bit of that kind of irresponsible behaviour most people are up to in their youth if they haven't two kids at twenty and then work to let their husband finish his studies."
"Aye, I can manage that and a bit more dazzle, I think. Now tell me what happened after Harrods. I guess you were a bit miffed for maybe an hour. Then you were at home, trying on your purchases."
"Correct."
"Do you have light from the south in you flat?" Ella nodded.
"Let's see. You undressed. Put on the suspender belt. Debated with yourself whether to risk ruining your new stockings with trying them on right now. You filed your nails to prevent getting them caught in the fabric. It must have been around noon. I guess you aren't a slob at your home but the incoming sun and the dust from your books – you do have quite a few books, don't you? – made the lightening soft. You rolled up the first stocking, figured out how the clasps worked. I guess by then you were no longer angry at my presumption. You put on the second stocking and went to look at yourself in a tall mirror."
Ella's breath was coming in shorter puffs than sitting down usually warranted. Corban was entirely correct in his tale. Well, there was one thing missing but she would not tell him now that she'd discarded the first stocking and made a detour to the bathroom and her razor before dressing up again. His hand had wandered towards the small of her back, fingers ghosting along the seams of the suspender belt, seaching for the ribbons and clasps on her backside. His glance settled on her lips before taking a swallow of Lagavulin and continueing.
"You found that something was missing and padded into the hall, looking for the right shoes. Maybe you had to stretch up to retrieve the box with your nice black heels, noticing the feeling of the seam of your stockings rising with your stretch. Or you had to bend down to find that lovely pair of kitten heels you're wearing now, the straps digging in your backside. Mayhaps you thought of how you would look if you bent over for a man in that get-up."
The archivist fought to keep her cool even if she had to question all her previous sex-life when Yaxley's words and few touches made her feel nearly more thrilled than ever. He looked at her lips again and in agreement Ella lowered her eyelids. The kiss started soft and careful but soon enough escalated. Only during the first months of their courtship had James been interested in prolonged kissing therefore she got a reminder what a determined man could do with his lips and tongue. It really was like riding a bike and Ella quickly caught on. And was rewarded by a soft sigh from her partner. Corbans left hand had wandered up around her back and was now caressing the underside of her breast while the other was cradling her head. A clink of glasses from the bar made her withdraw with a blush. It did something primal to Ella that her partner had to draw a few breaths himself before speaking.
"You kiss like a blushing seventeen year old and I mean that in the nicest way possible."
Ella shrugged her shoulders and turned towards him, deliberately letting her pebbled nipple brush along his side, "I am going to powder my nose." If her hips swung a little more than usual no one would know safe one.
In the bathroom she looked herself in the eye, not yet talking aloud to herself about what she was to do. She cooled her wrists, had a look at the cramped bathroom and toilet and knew she would have to invite Corban back to her flat. On a whim she entered a stall, pulled her knickers down and stowed them in her handbag.
On her way back to the barroom an ajar door caught her attention. Ella pushed it open and found herself in a narrow back-alley. The Lamb & Flag was hundreds of years old and a site of historic interest, the kitchen and storage were miniscule. The owners had built a sturdy little shed in the back-alley to stow the kegs. There was a padlock on the door but it was not locked. Ella took a look inside. In the first row there were two kegs stacked upon each other. She tried to block the images rising in front of her inner eye.
"What kept you from returning to the table?" Corban had stepped up close to her, on hand on her hip, the other caressing the sensitive skin under her ear.
"Logistics."
"Logistics?" Ella pressed her backside backwards into his groin.
"Don't make me spell it out."
"I'll teach you to talk dirty yet, you'll see." With that he turned her around and kissed her again. Only this time his hands bunched her dress up, stroking over her thighs in the process.
"You naughty girl! No knickers?" Their kisses grew heated and when Ella used one leg to draw him closer she felt the effect on Corban. Never before had she had sex where any moment somebody could catch them.
She was reaching for Yaxley's belt when she remembered something.
"Just a second." The care-package from her female friends for her birthday had contained some condoms as well. Then Ella had never imagined needing them so soon. When she found them in her handbag he had already freed his member from his trousers and was dragging the head through her slit.
"So wet and all for me!" Ella put her foot on one keg and canted her hips upward. The position wasn't ideal but by now she didn't care. The encounter was more thrilling than anything she'd ever done before, if she'd re-imagine it later, taking care of herself, that would be allright too. But Corban surpassed her expectations, dropping down on his knees before her, drawing her leg over his shoulder and giving her an orgasm that had her biting into her sleeve lest she shout the whole building down.
"Oh, luv, you come so beautifully!"
She was still shaking when he lined up and entered her ever so slowly. Ella put her pelvic floor exercises to good use and soon had him panting, "Harder, Corban, let go!"
He dropped one hand between their bodies, "After you, madam." She would not have thought it possible in that position but his fingers knew just how to apply the right pressure. Ella came with the force of a freight train, biting into his shoulder to keep quiet. Yaxley followed her with a growl.
She had to lean back against the kegs, her legs felt like jelly. Feeling him softening she drew some deep breaths. Corban pressed a kiss against the corner of her mouth, "Thank you."
"Thank you. Dazzling works very well for you."
"You want to go back first?" Ella nodded and did just that, after putting her knickers back on in the bathroom. Her G&T was watery but she didn't care. The bartender was a true marvel, not one glance in her direction.
The pub was getting busier and after Corban's return they left the place. Leisurly they walked into the direction of Tottenham Court Road. Before the street got too busy he drew Ella into an embrace, "Today's been wonderful, I hope for you as well. May I see you again?"
"You have proof in form of some bitemarks on your shoulder that I have no reason to complain. Yes, I'd like to see you again."
Ella gave him the number of her landline and they parted ways at the tube station. Two days later a package with a Nokia 5110 arrived at her flat, the first message blinking already. Sometimes they met during her lunch hour, which was more like 30 minutes and provided only time for a sandwich and a chat, more often they met at Hampstead Heath after Ella's workday was finished and walked the way to her flat. Corban never got into details about work but sometimes told hilarious stories about the shenanigans of his underlings. Ella knew enough about working for govermental departments with a need for secrecy not to dig any deeper. She relished in her new-found sensuality and Corban proved to be as considerate a partner as he was inventive. Sometimes he had to leave during the night, sometimes they woke up next to each other. And he taught her to talk dirty all right.
Ella felt that he was under a lot of pressure from work and – as she too had access to information that was not open to the public – thought this to be connected to the instances of seemingly random desasters spread over the whole UK like bridges collapsing or buildings blowing up with no apparent reason. Yaxley once mentioned that he cherished the times spent at her flat, away from everything.
Easter Ella spent at Bangor. Henry proudly showed her and Catherine around the Department of Marine Biology and they went hiking for two days. Back in London she washed the windows of her flat, enjoying the festive atmosphere around Golder's Green as Passover that year was a week after Easter. Her life was good.
Corban was sometimes absentminded when they met and lately their coupling took on a frantic quality. On the evening of May 1st he knocked on her door at 11 pm without calling before. He kissed her against the door like a drowning man before bending her over the back of the settee. Afterwards they lay down in Ella's bed, sharing lazy caresses. A few times he seemed to stop himself from saying something but in the end, after a second time making love with a tenderness that nearly brought her to tears, he relented, "Luv, after tomorrow I might be without a way to contact you for a long time, possibly forever. I can't tell you more and I can't make any promises, I'm sorry."
"Do not fret, Corban. I am very glad I went to Harrods that day and I enjoyed our times since then. You taught me a lot and I hope I could give you some peace in return."
"That you've done, love, that you've done."
They fell asleep in each other's arms. In the small hours of the night Ella woke up to the mattress dipping and Corban kissing her brow before withdrawing quietly. That was the last time she'd seen him. When calling his number she only heard `The number you have dialled does not exist´.
August 2000
Ella was glad to be able to put up her feet. Today she really felt all of her 42 years. After the evening news she turned the volume of the TV down. Her mind wandered towards a time two years ago but she squashed the thoughts down. It did not matter. She was content and determined to be happy. Just as she was about to nod off on the settee a soft knock on the door of the flat could be heard. Ella went through the list of her neighbours in her head and came up with none who would knock that late in the evening. She went to the door, looking through the spyglass and got a shock. She opened the door with more force than necessary.
"Corban!"
He was looking dreadful. Much thinner than the last time she'd seen him, pale and the lines in his face more pronounced. In his eyes Ella detected a weariness beyond his years.
"May I come in?" Finally she unfroze.
"Of course!" She wanted to draw him into her arms but his overall demeanour prevented that. He went into the living room and sat down in what had been his corner the few times they'd stayed in her flat. Ella busied herself to put the lovely wildflower bouquet into a vase and poured a whiskey. The bottle was the same one she had bought two years ago for him.
Yaxley thanked her and drank before addressing her.
"I guess you'd like an explanation."
She sat down next to him. Not as near as she would have done then.
"In time perhaps, if you can give one. Forgive me, but you look dreadful. I guess whatever kept you from answering my calls was dire indeed. Just relax."
He let his head fall back. Then he sat up again, resting his elbows on his knees, not looking at her.
"Aye. Dire and cold and quite hopeless." During the time of their acquaintance he had been stressed sometimes, but always in control. Never had she seen him so defeated and vulnerable. Ella scooted closer and put an arm around his shoulders. His whole body was trembling faintly. Pictures of war zones, of captives, rose in her mind unbidden. She stretched along the settee, drawing him with her.
"You can rest." Drawing soothing circles on his back she held him close. They did not speak for quite a while. Gradually Corban grew less tense. His next words came in a hoarse whisper, "I missed you. I did not think I would miss you quite so fiercely."
"Shh, you're here now." They lay a while longer. Ella felt the atmosphere lightening and his one hand that was not trapped under her body started to caress her side. At her stiffening he enquired, "You're not married, are you?"
"No, no, you know I would not lay with you like this if I were."
An echo of his former mischievous smile appeared.
"Don't tell me you did not miss the times I bent you over right this settee. I for sure did!"
"Idiot, of course I missed that. No, Corban, stop right now, I have to show you something!"
Finally he caught on that she was serious. Ella stood and took his hand, "Come, but be quiet."
She carefully opened the door to the second bedroom. Stella's nightlight was still on. The toddler only wore a nappy due to the unusual heat of the last few weeks and had already kicked the thin blanked off, her whispy blond hair clinging to her forehead. She had a stuffed dragon in one hand, the other stretched towards the head of the bed. Ella beckoned Corban closer. She kept his hand in hers. He drew a sharp breath, nearly crushing her fingers.
"How?"
"The usual way. We were careless that last evening, at the beginning of May."
Stella stirred and Ella dragged her father outside into the living room again. She topped up his glass and poured one for herself.
"I did not realise for some months, I thought I was going into menopause. You did tell me that you would be unable to communicate for some time but I really missed you. And ate too much chocolate. Only when I felt the first flutter it hit me that I might be pregnant! Then I was worried, a child at 41 is rather risky. But my ob-gyn could tell me soon enough that everything was allright with her and the pregnancy was easy actually, as was the birth. I really tried to let you know, even called some Yaxleys in Scotland to find you, but I had no success."
"You wouldn't have. No one below Tony Blair knows about me, there are no records. – Oh Ella!" He drew her into his arms and Ella felt the fabric at the shoulder of her t-shirt grow wet. For a while they just sat like that. Then Corban fumbled for a handkerchief in his pockets.
"I have a daughter!" He laughed there, the sound rusty, as if not having been uttered for a long time. Growing serious again he proceeded, "I still cannot tell you much, I am on probation and must not put one toe over certain lines if I do not wish to be gone for good. Do you need money?"
"We are fine. I have reduced my working hours, Stella is at a creche at Hampstead Heath during the day, four days a week. She likes it there."
"May I stay the night?"
"Of course. But mind, the little lady wakes up at half past five usually. Tomorrow is my day off, Stella isn't going to the creche."
Ella had to dig a little in her wardrobe but finally found the shirt and trousers Corban had worn when going to bed at her place. They made love and afterwards he traced the new stretch marks on her belly.
"I would give my arm to have been here when the little one was growing inside you." Ella had to snort, remembering the roller coaster ride of hormones in her second trimester.
"Well I would have given a leg during that time for you being here. I had inappropriate thoughts the whole time! I had to buy satin bras, anything less soft drove me to distraction. There might be a lot of files filed wrongly at my workplace."
He perked up in every sense of the word, "How about I put another baby into you? A little boy, a brother for Stella?"
Even if his words aroused her more than she cared for Ella fought to be reasonable, "That might tempt fate. I'd be fortythree when he's born."
"I could try to persuade you?" He proceeded to show her his appreciation. Before falling asleep she got up again, opening the door of the bedroom. In the morning Stella tended to brabble a while in her bed before demanding her mother's attention.
"Ma!"
Ella extricated herself from Corban's arms. The movement caused him to freeze. She kept her distance lest he lashed out but after a few deep breaths he opened his eyes.
"You real? I didn't dream?"
"Ma!"
"Real and in demand." She made her way over to the smaller bedroom of the flat. Stella was standing in her bed, arms stretched up in expectation of being picked up. Ella reached down.
"And how is my little sunshine this morning?"
The toddler got a new nappy. Ella did not dress her daughter yet as she had started to eat her porridge without help but naturally not without making a mess. With Stella in her children's chair and half of the porridge elswhere her mother started coffee. She was pondering whether to make a full English when a change in tone of her daughters brabbeling alerted her to Corban's presence in the kitchen. He had sat down at the table watching the child. His eyes were suspiciously moist. When Stella presented him with her spoon he tried to feed her. The little girl had a lot of fun thwarting the Scot's attempts to get some porridge into her.
The day promised fine weather and so the little family set out, after giving Stella a thorough wash. Ella had to smile at Corban's flabbergasted expression when her daughter insisted on wearing wellies to a summerdress. She assured him that she had sandals in her purse. The fourhundred yards to the next park with a playground took about three quarters of an hour with Stella stopping every two yards, admiring beetles as well as bottle caps, climbing every small wall on the way and hiding behind hydrants and letter boxes. At the playground the child discarded her boots altogether and the new father learned not to get frightened when his daughter climbed on structures clearly designated for elder children and that there was a right and a wrong way to push a swing, at least according to Stella.
After a banana and some biscuits they set off a different route and the reason for taking a pushchair along became clear to Yaxley. It filled with bags of vegetables and other groceries and Stella seemed to be the favourite of every shopkeeper on the way. He himself got some curious glances. The street of Ella's flat in sight the toddler´s energy began to wane finally and she got cranky. At home Stella ate a few bites of left-over spaghetti before falling asleep.
"She recently decided to sleep only once a day, she will be hungry and eat again after waking up. What do you think of a salad for lunch?"
"Anything you planned will be allright. – Ella, I have to tell you something important. Please remember that even if you say `yes´ now you can say `no´ later. I'd rather you'd say `yes´. Will you marry me?"
Ella sat down heavily on the kitchen chair. What an odd proposal. And quite unnecessesary in her opinion. He might be oldfashioned enough to feel compelled to `do the right thing´ because of fathering Stella, but she had no such compunctions. Before voicing her thoughts she remembered Corban's odd insistence that she could change her mind any time. She looked at him and said, "Yes." The Scot smiled briefly before getting serious again.
"As we are now affianced I am allowed to tell you things about me. Have you noticed odd occurances around Stella when she's angry or frightened?"
Ella had expected something like Corban working for MI5 or MI6 but not the direction this might be going. He was no alien, was he?
"When I first met you I noticed a unique smell, like one would imagine lightning would smell like. That same smell is around Stella when she's angry. And sometimes it felt like she could direct the mobile above her crib with her eyes. I kept looking for drafts around the room but found none."
"Aye." He withdrew a stick and waved it at the breakfast dishes before changing the salt and pepper on the table into two turtles. Ella blinked slowly. She inspected the sink, where a brush was cleaning Stella's porridge bowl, and the animals. The turtles were small and slow but quite real otherwise.
"Don't let Stella see them. She's too young for pets."
"They ain't real turtles. I Transfigured the salt and pepper." He waved the stick again and the turtles were gone, leaving in place the condiments.
"Ella, I am a wizard. It is quite likely that Stella is a witch. People like us have special powers. I do not know how this comes about but I guess it is genetic somehow. After the witch hunts in the Middle Ages our society separated from the people without magic which we call Muggles. Nowadays the queen and the prime minister know about the existence of a magical Britain. That state of things is protected by the so-called Statute of Secrecy. The fines are hefty but more important is that the wizarding police wipes the memories of anyone not exempt. That spell can be dangerous, I would not want you suffering from it. Which is the main reason for proposing so soon after coming back, as my fiancée you are exempt from the Statute."
Ella drew a few breaths. She was a deeply logical person with an analytical mind. But there had been turtles on the kitchen table while behind her a brush was doing the dishes on its own. There was no way Corban could have done a sleight of hand on both things.
"All right. You are a wizard and Stella is a witch. How does this affect our lives? If both worlds are segregated, am I going to lose my daughter sometime in the future? Possibly even made forget about her?" At the end her voice had gone quite shrill. Yaxley took her hands.
"No, of course not. Holding family events mixing small wizarding children and people who are not exempt from the Statute is not recommended but otherwise nothing needs to change. Children with magic usually go to a special boarding school in Scotland at the age of eleven where they learn to use their abilities. Until then some are home-schooled, some have tutors and others go to Muggle schools. Accidental magic happens when a child is frightened or very angry. That can be a problem if the child is very prone to tantrums or very high-strung."
"Stella is a remarkably relaxed toddler."
"I thought so, too, but did not want to presume on so short an acquaintance."
"Could I tell my other children?"
"Only if they are considered part of your household."
"They are. They only have their student accomodations, Cath and Henry sleep here during their holidays." Or at their father's or grandfather's place but for now Ella kept that from Corban rather than being forced to keep her youngest from her older siblings.
"There's more, isn't it? You being a wizard is only part of the story. It doesn't explain your two-year absence. Were you held hostage?"
"No, not as noble. I was in prison, to put it simply, and I am very lucky to be out again so soon. I've held an influencial position in the Ministry of Magic's department of law. Our government is as corrupt as it is inefficient and ruled by prejudice. I have always had Muggle friends and know my way around your world. Concerned with the advance of technology on the Muggle side – satellites, better cameras, nuclear weapons – and worried about a movement towards more permeability between the two worlds I joined a group called the Knights of Walpurgis. Their leader seemed to have the right ideas for a stricter segregation on one hand and an earlier integration of Muggleborn children on the other hand – sometimes it is a recessive gene and Muggle parents are surprised with a wizarding child. Some do not notice anything, some notice and worry but there are those who think their child is a monster or a demon and subject him or her to things like exorcism or psychiatric wards. There's more to this story but in the end the conflict became a full-blown civil war. It did not matter that I had long since seen that the way the Knights were going about their aims was wrong, I was on the wrong side of the conflict and got sentenced. Your angel's daddy is a convict on parole. Which is why I am so careful with the Statute of Secrecy. I do not want to go back to prison."
"If not for Stella, how did you think we would go on after your reappearance?"
"I don't know. I tried to talk myself out of calling on you as I came for very selfish reasons. I guess I just hoped for you to let me forget about my demons for a while. Or tell me off in no uncertain terms."
"You could have found that in other women's arms, without our history."
"Nah, don't talk yourself down. There's something about you being such a matter-of-fact kind of person I find terribly assuring. With you I know that you mean what you say, no double meanings, no hidden ploys. And still there is a part of you that you don't show just anyone. At first glance you appear like a harmless librarian. But then there's that slight pursing of your lips that tells me that you are not thinking about books. You look at me like I am prey. And then- "
"Corban, Stella's only napping for thirty more minutes."
"You don't say!"
During lunch it had started to rain. Stella was clapping her little hands together in glee while Ella sighed.
"She loves rain. We'll have to go out again and look for puddles."
"A Scottish lass then, aye."
Corban opted to go home for a while and promised to bring back dinner after asking for his daughter's preferences. Ella used the time at the park to think everything over. She wanted to talk to Stella's father about their relationship in the evening. Withholding her daughter from her father had never entered her mind during the last 24 hours. Considering the toddler being a witch made contact with someone who knew about these things even more important. Even if they did not work out as a couple in the long run they could stay engaged because of the Statute of Secrecy. Should she meet another man whom she would want to marry they would cross that bridge then. Ella sensed that there was a whole bunch of issues with Corban's role in the conflict in the wizarding world she knew nothing about and she was determined that it should not hurt her little one.
After a truly delicious dinner Stella introduced her father to her duplo train and after a bath demanded three readings of "Thomas the Tank Engine" before falling asleep. Yaxley was quite sure that the little girl had been saying "Dada" before falling asleep. Ella chose not to explain to him that Stella had used "Dada" for fire engines, `look here´ and ducks before. They made plans for him to at least spend Ella's day off and the weekends with them, the latter used for introducing mother and daughter to the wizarding world. Corban took them to the family manor in Scotland and to his townhouse. Stella loved the elves there and the little beings were ecstatic because of having finally a child to dote on. A visit to platform 9 ¾ was done with Corban under a glamour. He told Ella of his plans to work towards his rehabilitation and the fact that it would be difficult. Until then it was better no-one connected the two females to the Ex-Death Eater.
At the end of September Ella was introduced to the people Corban considered his family. Due to Stella's attendance it was a lunch held at the townhouse of his best friend, Antonin Dolohov. The Scot had briefed his fiancée on how this peculiar group of people had come together. She had to center herself and breathe deeply. Even with Yaxley's dry style of narrating the whole story was full to the brim with anguish. The two women, Luna and Hermione, were of Catherine's age. Ella shuddered to think of her daughter in a similar situation. Beside the divorce of her parents Cath's worst disappointments were a B in a Algebraic Number Theory course and two minor heartbreaks, more likely just a bruised ego. Still she worried about bringing Stella into such a delicately balanced group of people. Corban promised to leave with them if the situation got too uncomfortable but Ella sensed his disappointment. She vowed to show him her earnest attempt at getting to know and understand his dearest friends even if she was awed by their obvious gap in experience – survivors of a war versus archivist.
The Saturday morning promised a lovely Autumn day. Stella had great fun exploring a part of Hampstead Heath she was unfamiliar with while they walked towards an Apparition point. The little girl took this form of transportation with much more equinamity than her mother who still got nauseas from it. Antonin Dolohov's town house was in Chalk Farm, they landed in a secluded spot in the back garden and were admitted by a house elf. At the owner coming to meet them at the back door Ella realised that Corban hadn't told anyone of Stella. Dolohov was a somber man looking older than Yaxley even though she knew they had attended school together. His eyes went from the little girl on her arm to Corban and back before a smile lit his face up in a way that took decades off his mien.
"Welcome, Mrs Stringer, and my most earnest congratulations! I am Antonin Alexei Dolohov. May I enquire of this young lady's name? Her father kept her a secret from us."
Ella offered her hand and was surprised to find her knuckles kissed with an expertly executed bow.
"Stella Rebecca Stringer, she will be two in January." The little girl twisted in her mother's arms, wanting to be let down and not interesting in being introduced.
"If you will follow me to the drawing room. – Yax, I will need your help with re-newing the child-proofing spells, they are as old as I."
Stella let herself being led by the hand but hid behind her mother's legs when she saw how many people were waiting in the drawing room. From Corban's descriptions Hermione was easily recognised by Ella. She looked radiant despite signs of recent stress and was standing close to an elder gentleman, her eyes every few seconds straying to Dolohov. The man next to her must be Rodolphus Lestrange. His stance was watchful and just now relaxing a bit, obviously he expected not danger from a toddler and his Muggle mother. One of the other men in the room was a lighter version of Rodolphus and he seemed to be as skitterish as a fawn until a small blond woman in whimsical clothes put a calming hand on his forearm. They introduced themselves and when the blonde, Luna Lovegood obviously, declared Ella free of Nargles and Wrackspurts before dropping down next to Stella who seemed fascinated by the claw feet of a sidetable, the last man in the room snorted. His dark clothes and hair had made him drop back and enable to watch without being seen. Ella sensed that it was just what the way he liked it. That was Potions master Severus Snape.
They settled down around a table where plates of food were lovingly prepared. Stella made a move to crawl onto the table but was quickly distracted by Corban Transfiguring a chair into a children's chair and a crystal goblet into a sippy cup while Luna arranged various bites on a plate. Polite smalltalk soon changed into gentle ribbing of the Scot, about him being the first of their circle of friends to have a family, Corban reassuring his friends that he still was up to be best man and godfather as often as they needed him.
When Stella got tired enough for her nap Luna and Hermione showed Ella an upstairs bedroom and the women took their coffee in a salon there with charms in place to alert them when the toddler would wake up. They talked about Ella's work and her elder children and then Hermione chastitised herself for not noticing Corban's loneliness before his most recent incarceration. Ella could not let that stand.
"Ms Granger, drop that line of thought instantly, please. Corban is quite his own man and from what he told me you two already managed to accomplish twice as much as people decades older have. My eldest, Catherine, is your age and I shudder that she had to endure what you did."
Luna directed the talk to less dire topics and after Stella had woken up they re-joined the men downstairs, half on their way to become fast friends.
The Halloween weekend Ella spent with her children in Bristol. As Stella very rarely did Accidental magic her mother did not tell her siblings about magic yet. But she told them that Corban was back into her life. Catherine got enraged on behalf of her mother but Ella managed to calm her down without explaining too much. When Christmas came around she suspected being pregnant again. Much later Yaxley told her that it had been only the third time in his adult life that he had wept when being presented with the Muggle pregnancy test and its two blue lines.
The little family moved into the townhouse while Catherine took the Golder's Green flat as she had chosen to study for her master in London. Jeremiah Corban Stringer was born on July 31st 2001. Between his daddy, his sister and the elves Ella was lucky to see her youngest now and then. Corban's standing in the wizarding world was not improving. He concentrated on his family and his cercle of friends and implemented a plan that had been rattling around in his head for a while now - he wrote, under the name of Alastair C. Stringer, two corresponding books for wizarding and Muggle studies. Two hundred years later historians would pinpoint the publication of these two books and the re-introduction of compulsory wizarding and Muggle studies at Hogwarts as the starting point of a period of peaceful co-existence like wizarding Britain had never known before.
Stella and Jeremiah attended Hogwarts as Stringers, but Ella and Corban did marry eventually. Their daughter was an Arithmancy prodigy and studied Mathematics at Oxford as well as Arithmancy at the wizarding part of Harvard. Famous all over the wizarding world became Stella Yaxley Stringer and her sister Catherine for producing the theoretical background for spells for the use of computers in the wizarding world as well as wards against CCTV and satellites. Jeremiah became only the second Hufflepuff Minister of Magic but he would be the longest serving, taking over from Susan Bones Weasley. Yaxley and Ella toasted each other in private – who needed public opinion if ones family virtually ruled the wizarding world?
Fin