Late the next morning when Ric and Zubin were sitting drinking coffee at the kitchen table, and Zubin was struggling to force strawberry yoghurt into a wriggling baby, the cordless phone rang. "Dad, can you get that?" Jess called from the other room. "Hi, it's me," Connie said when he answered. "How are you?" "Terrible," She told him miserably. "Would Zubin have any Cyclozine he might consider parting with?" She asked, referring to the popular antisickness drug often dispensed on the wards. "Connie says do you have any spare Cyclozine at your disposal?" Ric asked him. "I might have," Zubin replied thoughtfully, and then called to Jess to have a look for him. "Put her on hands free," Zubin said, suddenly having an idea. "Zubin wants to talk to you," Ric told her, knowing that confronting the fact that Zubith?" She asked, referring to the popular antisickness drug often dispensed on the wards. "Connie says do you have any spare Cyclozine at your disposal?" Ric asked him. "I might have," Zubin replied thoughtfully, and then called to Jess to have a look for him. "Put her on hands free," Zubin said, suddenly having an idea. "Zubin wants to talk to you," Ric told her, knowing that confronting the fact that Zubin knew what she'd been through, wasn't something she would want to do any time soon. After a short, slightly tense pause, Connie simply said, "Fine." Switching the cordless phone onto hands free, Ric put it down in the middle of the table. "Connie, how's the pain?" He asked without preamble. "You don't mince your words, do you," She replied, sounding a little startled. "Not where the agony from cracked ribs is concerned, no I don't," Zubin told her firmly. "It's driving me up the wall," She said eventually, and they could both tell just how much effort it was taking her not to lose control. "Would you like something a little more powerful than Ibuprofen?" Zubin asked. "Does it come with a professional price attached to it?" Connie demanded bitterly, all her defences flying up in an instant. Zubin looked more than a little hurt by this, but Ric couldn't really blame Connie for asking. "I don't kick people when they're down, Connie," Zubin told her quietly. "Really?" Connie replied, her bitter, hard-edged laugh not containing an ounce of mirth. "Because I think we both know that statement to be entirely false." After a slightly awkward silence, Connie relented. "However, your reason for making such an offer is really immaterial to me at the moment, so yes, if you do have anything that might just take the edge off, I would be eternally grateful." "The only thing I do have that might do some good, is an unlicenced research drug." "As long as it does the trick, I really couldn't care less," Connie told him through slightly gritted teeth. "No way, Zubin," Ric put in to their surprise. "The last time you gave someone one of your unlicenced experimental research drugs, she almost died of Anaphylactic shock. I trust you do remember that complete farce of an operation, involving your daughter, and a girl she smuggled in from the Congo?" "It's improved an awful lot since then," Zubin said mildly. "I promise. It's had much more work done on it to make it safer." "I'll take the risk," Connie said firmly, putting an end to their impromptu argument. "Are you allergic to anything?" Zubin asked her, slipping back into the clinical mode of his profession. "Not that I know of," She replied, sounding a little more hopeful now that she might be about to dull the pain.
It was just after lunchtime when Jess and Zubin dropped him off at Connie's, on their way to visit Zubin's sister. "Wow," Jess said in awe as Ric got out of the car, and she moved to sit in the passenger seat. "You could do worse, Dad." "We'll see," Ric told her fondly, making no comment on Zubin's clearly dark expression. Walking up the drive as they drove away, Ric couldn't help but take a brief moment to live the fantasy Jess's words had provoked. But that was stupid, he told himself as he reached the front door. Connie was married, and he certainly knew better than to do it again.
When Connie opened the door, she looked noticeably relieved to see it was Ric. After closing the door behind him, he put his arms round her, just holding her, neither of them needing to say a word. Connie felt that she could now relax because he was here, a notion that gave her slight cause for concern. Connie Beauchamp wasn't supposed to need people, she was supposed to be utterly self-sufficient. Was this what Michael had done to her? "What've you been doing?" He said into her hair, uncommonly happy to have her soft, yielding body back in his arms again. "Reading," She said, leading the way into the lounge. She'd laid a thick, woolen throw over the sofa, to hide from sight the few traces of blood, to remove them from immediate contemplation if not from memory. Picking up the Dick Francis book from the coffee table where she'd put it down, Ric smiled. "I think I've read every book he's ever written," He said, remembering his ritual of going out to buy the paperback just as soon as any new one was available. "As they're all about horse racing, I'm hardly surprised," Connie said dryly, moving to stand in front of the crackling fire to warm her hands. Digging into his trouser and coat pockets, Ric emerged with a handful of singly packed syringes, prefilled with either the antisickness drug Cyclozine, or Zubin's unlicenced pain relief. "It looks as though I'll have to turn junky for a day or two," Connie said with a slightly ironic smile. "Have you been able to keep anything down at all?" Ric asked, glancing at any precautions on the Cyclozine packet. "Not so as you'd notice," Connie replied bleakly.
When Connie had returned from giving herself two very welcome injections, Ric had made them both a cup of tea. They lay close along the sofa, Connie nestling in the crook of his right arm. "How did you sleep last night?" He asked, taking note of the dark circles under her eyes. "Not brilliantly," She admitted sheepishly. "Why didn't you take one of those pills?" He asked, having thought this to be a good idea at the time. "I don't really like them," She said, raising a hand to cover a yawn. "Until I get the locks changed, I don't really want to be alone in this house, in as vulnerable a position as they put me in. I started taking them after Will died, because I kept dreaming about him. They were just some that were left over from then." "Connie," Ric said carefully. "What you said to Zubin, what did you mean?" "You mean about his definitely being in the business of kicking people when they're down?" She clarified. "Yes, I know I probably shouldn't have said that." "It's not a criticism," Ric assured her. "Because in part I agree with you. I just wondered what it was about, that's all." "When I was sitting in ITU, waiting for Will to wake up," She explained a little hesitantly, never having liked discussing this particular topic with anyone. "I asked Zubin if I'd been wrong, to treat Will in the way I had. Zubin told me that all I'd wanted was for Will to be a good surgeon. You've got absolutely no idea just how much I desperately wanted to believe that, and he really did sound as though he meant it. Then, after the funeral, he stuck the knife in with all the finesse of an ax murderer. Still, I suppose I shouldn't grumble, that painkiller he's given me is starting to work already." Ric was quiet for a time, a combination of hurt and anger flowing through him, at how callously Zubin had behaved over Connie's far too evident guilt over Will. "Don't be angry about it, Ric," She said into the silence. "It's really not worth it." "There's a very odd little coincidence about everything that happened around the time of Will's funeral," Ric replied, as though only just putting the pieces together. "Michael didn't join the hospital board, until your bit of bad publicity was virtually over. You being had up before the board for bullying will doesn't really count, because Michael was in the chair, therefore making the outcome a foregone conclusion. You leaned on Joanna Hopkins, by offering her a promise she couldn't refuse, no doubt with your husband pulling the strings in the background, and you also blackmailed Zubin about his affair with Jess, which is why he finally decided to tell me then and there." "All of which really ought to tell you," Connie told him with a slight smirk. "That I am not, a very nice person. But then I've been trying to convince you of that for the last few months." "Ah, but how much of it is you, and how much of it is Michael's influence?" Ric asked, almost pleased with the way she wasn't attempting to wriggle her way out of any of it. "Michael may have some influence over the way I do things at management level," She admitted grudgingly. "But he doesn't have as much influence over the way I just am, as you seem to think he does. Ric, I wouldn't recommend either living or working with me to anyone. But then you just as much as anyone, ought to know how lethal I am to work with." "Ah, but I know how to handle you," He said, softly kissing her, his voice deeper with unfulfilled promises. "Oh, do you now, Mr. Griffin," She almost purred. "The best way to handle Connie Beauchamp," He said with an entirely straight face. "Is to allow her to get her daily dose of adolescent strop out of her system, whilst maintaining an outward facade of complete indifference. Then," He continued, as the look of indignant fury crept over her face. "Take her to the nearest office at the end of the day, remove every bit of clothing she happens to be wearing, and gradually tease away all that frustration and self-sufficient armour, leaving her as sated and satisfied, as a cat who has just consumed an entire jugful of cream." Connie was caught completely off her guard, outraged by his reference to her as a stroppy teenager, and almost unbearably turned on by the caressing tones of his subsequent suggestions. She opened her mouth to deliver some resounding rejoinder, but shut it again when she realise that she simply couldn't find anything to say. "Well, there's an achievement if I ever saw one," Ric said with a broad grin. "Connie Beauchamp speechless." "I do not, act like an adolescent going through mid pubescent crisis," She said eventually, though it didn't sound quite as determined as she'd hoped it would. "You just listen to yourself the next time you and Zubin get into a row," He said with a laugh. "You're both as bad as each other." "I like the sound of your cure for it though," She added suggestively, marveling at just how incredible those few words had made her feel. If Connie had been honest with herself, she would have said that her fear of not being able to feel sexy again, after what Michael had done to her, was perhaps far more of an issue for her than the act itself. Sex was usually the most pleasurable area of Connie's life, not one that she wanted to have to relinquish to anybody. "Was that really how I looked?" She asked meditatively. "At the end of my first day, I mean?" "Definitely," He told her in what was obviously fond memory. "I didn't think I'd seen anything quite so beautiful for an incredibly long time. Your skin was so rich and warm, and you certainly weren't afraid of telling me what you wanted, which believe me really is an added bonus. It was as though you thought that because you were so incredibly beautiful, it was your absolute right to take whatever I could give you. It didn't matter that we were lying on a battered sofa in my very cramped little office, because you just didn't care. For months afterwards, every time you did something that in normal circumstances would have made me blisteringly angry, and would have made me question just where you kept your feelings, all I had to do was to remember how you looked as you writhed underneath me that day. Everyone else thought that you were entirely empty, possessing nothing but the brain and the skills that allowed you to do your job with such perfection, but I knew better. I might have only seen you lose control that once, but it was enough. Just for that one little bit of time, I'd seen the woman behind the mask as it were." Connie was silent for a while, just trying to take in everything he'd said. She'd never heard this story from his point of view, and it was enlightening to say the least. She'd always known that to keep her mask in place, kept her safe, and kept her apart from those she sought to rule. But to allow her mask to be so thoroughly penetrated without her really being aware of it, well, that was almost terrifying in the extreme.
Connie could feel the reaction Ric's words were having on her body, her nipples hardening slightly in response to his caressing, honey-rich voice. "Do you have any idea what your voice does to me?" She asked, running an affectionate thumb along his cheek. "At least it's good for something," He commented dryly. "Ric," Connie said a little tentatively. "There's something I need to ask you, to which I am sure you're about to say no." "That sounds ominous," He said warily, knowing that this really must be bad if she was nervous of bringing it up. "At some point, before you go back, please will you make love to me?" Ric had been gently running his hand the length of her right arm, but her question seemed to have shocked him into perfect stillness. "I thought that might have been the last thing you would have wanted from me," He said a little uncertainly, knowing that he really was feeling his way in the dark with this one. "I think I need to feel whole again," She tried to explain. "Maybe I need that part of myself returning to me. Sex has always been a very significant part of my life, Ric. It always has been and probably always will be. From the moment I discovered just how useful my body could be, it's become a tool for occasional manipulation as well as a path to sincere enjoyment." "Just how young were you, when you did discover that?" Ric asked quietly, hearing the wisdom that only possibly regretted experiences can produce. "Too young," She told him evasively. "I need to know," She continued, unwilling to be dissuaded from her original path. "That Michael hasn't entirely destroyed that part of my life, and I trust you enough, to help me find that out."
Ric couldn't speak for a moment, being incredibly moved by the sheer depth of her faith in him. It wasn't often he felt quite so overwhelmed with emotion, but this time was one of them. "Connie," He said on an exhalation of air. "That's, an enormous complement you've just paid me." He knew it sounded pretty lame, but he just didn't know quite what else to say at the moment. "I know," she said softly, realising just what she'd done to him. "But I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." "If I did do this," Ric began carefully, thinking on his feet. "Connie, I don't want to hurt you, or to frighten you by anything I might do for you. What I certainly don't want to happen is for you to end up loathing me as much as you do Michael. He has hurt you immeasurably, and I don't want to do the same. You mean far too much to me, to risk shattering whatever it is we have between us, just because you want to try something you might not be ready for. I do understand why you want to do this, of course I do, but I can't help thinking that any time in the next few days may be far too soon." Connie knew he was probably right, but that didn't make her feel any better. "You didn't used to need persuading," She told him dismally, feeling old, unattractive and thoroughly unloved. "Connie, believe me, I really don't need persuading to sleep with you under normal circumstances," Ric told her with absolute certainty. "You are definitely the most attractive, incredibly proportioned woman I think I've ever known in my life. All you have to do is talk to me in that deliciously flirtatious drawl of yours, and I'm ready for anything. Even in theatre, you'd casually throw out one of your comments that anyone will remember for the rest of their working life, and I'd be wondering if anyone would notice if I had you up against the nearest wall." Connie laughed in spite of herself. "And you think I'm joking," Ric said with a smile. "Connie, nothing would delight me more, than to be able to banish every hurtful memory you have of this house and of Michael, but I don't want to hurt you in the process. That's why I need a very good reason for risking something quite so precious to me. Okay?" "I'm sorry," Connie said quietly, feeling a little guilty for having pressed him on this. "Don't be," He assured her gently. "I'm not saying no, but I am saying that I need time to think about it."
They watched a film in the evening, both finding the antics of the couple on the screen really quite arousing. "You watched this on purpose, didn't you," Ric said with a rueful smile. "Would I?" She asked noncommittally, her face holding nothing but angelic innocence. "Yes," Ric said with a laugh. His thoughts had constantly strayed away from the action on the screen, to what he should do about what she had asked of him. What he'd said had been absolutely right, he did want to make love to her, to take away all the bad only to replace it with good. But could he really do that? It would crucify him if he ended up hurting her further, possibly meaning that they would never again be able to mend any fractured tears in their own relationship. But Connie usually did know her own mind, the other half of him was saying. She certainly did know what she wanted, which was something he'd always admired in her. On this occasion, she even had a cast iron reason for wanting what she'd asked for. She trusted him to help her, to assist her in regaining the part of her personality that meant as much to her as her surgical skill. It really was an enormous gift that she had accorded him, but it also left him with a more than large amount of responsibility. If he did take her up on her suggestion, it would need to be all about her, with his own responses to the situation being for the moment entirely ignored. That wasn't a problem, it was certainly something he could handle if it was going to make it easier on her. Praying that he was making the right decision, Ric kept his thoughts to himself for the rest of the film, allowing the enchanting display on the TV to put her in the mood she so desired.
Later on, when Connie went upstairs for a bath, Ric locked up, put a guard around the dying embers of the fire, and took a quick shower in the bathroom across from Connie's bedroom. When he appeared wearing a simple pair of black, silk boxer shorts, Connie was sitting in front of the mirror brushing her hair, the movements clearly hurting her bruised and stiffened shoulders. Silently taking the brush from her, Ric began gently removing all the knots, smoothing away any tangles until the look on Connie's face was one of utter peace. When he'd put the brush down, she stood up, wearing a simple black nightie with only shoulder straps to hold it up. Turning her to face him, Ric scrutinized her, looking for anything that might tell him this was really a bad idea. Seeing nothing but openness and need in her face, he said, "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" "Yes," She said, just as quietly, wanting to maintain the slightly charged atmosphere that had risen between them. When their lips met, they could taste each other's toothpaste, their tongues cool from the icy water that came from the bathroom taps. Gently slipping the straps down her arms, Ric allowed the nightie to pool at her feet, leaving her naked and delicately vulnerable before him. To anyone else, her body would have appeared bruised, battered, and not in the least attractive, but to Ric, she was beautiful, standing there before him, ready for whatever he might do for her.
When they met under the duvet, Connie's blissfully warm body nestling against his, she said, "Why do I feel like a virgin all over again?" "Because you badly want it to work," He told her between gentle kisses, briefly wondering at what age she had taken that final step. "You really don't want to know," she said, as though reading his mind. "Well, I've always known that you were particularly precocious in that department," He told her with a smile, trying to put her at her ease. "I remember the first time I did this," He continued, thinking that if his voice really could arouse her that much, it wouldn't do any harm to use it. "You were standing there in my office, stripping off without a care in the world. That little smoke screen about not being used to having an audience, that was the first little white lie you told me, wasn't it." Connie laughed huskily, his words having the desired effect. "Acting as though you didn't want me to watch you, yet you knew I was, with every button you unfastened." "The way you stalked over to me," she said, continuing the story for him. "It was as though you were pacing round a car, or one of those race horses you used to back, sizing up the quality of the goods before you placed your bet. That predatory look you had on your face, and the thought of those powerful, yet highly skilful hands, made me wet with anticipation." "So, that's why you were so aroused when I finally got my hands on you," Ric said in realisation. "And I thought it was merely my undeniable sex appeal that had done it." Connie laughed, which turned into a groan as his hand delicately began stroking the underside of her breast. "I remember, you liked it when I did this, in fact you found it extremely difficult to keep within the recommended noise level for such an activity. You stopped me after a while, saying that you liked it too much. You'd have orgasmed just from that if I'd kept on going, wouldn't you." "Probably," She said a little unsteadily, remembering these events with the same clarity as he did. "When I saw what you had to offer," She said, wanting to take control of the story for a while. "I knew I was going to enjoy every minute of it. You are, without doubt, the largest man I've ever had the pleasure to have inside me. You made me feel fuller than I ever thought possible, and it was so nice to, just for once, find someone who succeeded at everything he did for me. Most men are good at one thing or the other, but I haven't ever not enjoyed anything with you, if that makes any sense. Even then, even though you'd only known me less than a day, it was as though you wanted to go that extra mile, to make me feel incredibly special." He was gently touching her nipples now, making her again feel that almost unbearable height of pleasure.
"When I did this," He said, very gently trailing his hand along her thigh, slipping it between them when they widened to accommodate him. "You were so warm, so moist, so deliciously aroused, that if we'd had more space for manoeuvring, I would definitely have wanted to taste you. When I did, when you came to see me in Ghana, I couldn't get enough of you." The flood of memories that this clearly provoked, made Connie suck in a breath through her teeth, feeling the waves of lust beginning to build as Ric's hand moved on her. God, the pure, sheer ecstasy of his fingers gliding over her lubricated skin was incredible. His ability to turn her on so thoroughly, definitely made him one in a million. He slipped a delicate finger into her warm, yielding flesh, careful not to further aggravate any lingering tenderness from Christmas night. "When I slid inside you that first time," He continued. "I wasn't entirely sure how long I would last." "Believe me, your durability was thoroughly admirable," She said without hesitation. "I felt as though I'd really met my match," He told her thoughtfully, delighting in the fact that even now, even with these slightly altered circumstances, he could still arouse her almost to boiling point. "When you came, you lay there underneath me, completely spent just as I was. Just for those few moments, I got to see the softer, sweeter, far more feminine Connie that I know to really exist." As her breathing quickened, coming in fraught little gasps because of the cracked ribs, his hand sped up, finally pushing her over the edge of her pleasure with a slightly strangled cry of relief.
He simply lay and held her as her breathing gradually returned to normal, almost overwhelmed by what he had just achieved for her. No matter what came next, or happened in the ensuing days and weeks, Connie could still enjoy being touched, she could still reach an orgasm if she felt like it. How far this liking and acceptance would stretch, Ric wasn't sure, but he did know that Michael hadn't entirely ruined that part of her life for her, which was tonight the only consideration. Seeming to realise that only she had been encouraged to reach her peak, Connie lay a gently seeking hand on his muscular thigh. "No," He told her, removing her hand and imprisoning it in his. "Why?" She asked, clearly mystified. "Because tonight was about you, and only you," He assured her, pulling her body against him and nestling his face in her hair. Connie looked exhausted, the rush of hormones clearly having worn her out. "Go to sleep," He told her, pressing a soft kiss to her slightly parted lips, and thinking that he would happily have stayed here for ever.