Sometimes the past comes crashing around you. Even the idea that I could think that way was like a dagger to my heart. Had I ever imagined that when I'd held her in my arms, cradling her to sleep that I would ever be parted from her? That she would ever be thought of as past tense?

Old friends, who have since drifted away, cannot possibly fathom how I could choose love over my own child. They wouldn't understand. They couldn't understand. It wasn't so simple as to be considered a decision. This was not about choosing. How could it be? She was my flesh, my blood, I had created her, I had loved her and would love her every single day of my life. It wasn't a choice. It was a sentence, a conviction based on who I am and who I love. Is love a choice? Perhaps I couldn't fathom that notion. Perhaps I couldn't see how love was a choice but instead something that grows within you, impossible to separate and as natural as the blood that courses through your veins.

"I have to go now Mummy. Will I see you soon?"

I gripped the telephone for dear life. "I hope so my darling…"

There was the sound of movement and the crackle of the line. "That's it" Harge's clipped voice interrupted.

"I can't even get a visit from my daughter on my birthday Harge?" I could not help myself, the ice was in my voice and it was aimed directly at him.

"You'll get a visit" He replied with a deep sigh. "I've told you…I don't know how many times…I've told you that if things change you can see her, you can see her all you want…"

"Things won't change" I bit back at him. "Not in the sense that you mean"

He sighed again, deeper, more weary. I could sense the frustration in him. "Why do you have to make things so god damned difficult?" He snapped.

"I want to see her Harge. I want to see her more"

"God dammit…" His voice was practically a growl. I couldn't help but despair over Rindy, my mind painting a picture of her huddled in the hallway, hearing her parents argue over the telephone. "…don't you listen?"

I closed my eyes, feeling the hot sting of tears. "I…will…not…change" I stressed the words one by one.

Then there was nothing but the chime of a dead line. I stood like this with the phone in hand, blinking back tears. I did not want to give in to the tears and instead allowed myself to take on a wave of anger. I was so angry. The pleasure of hearing her voice was erased by the bitterness of Harge's words. I would not allow myself to be held hostage in this battle of wills. I would not allow Harge to manipulate me in to changing who I am, who I would always be.

Therese stood, sheepishly, in the opened doorway of the living room. Her face was such a picture of despair that I felt my heart melt at the sight. There was a sense of hopelessness in her eyes as she remained, fixed to the doorway, terrified to spring forward and approach me.

I held out my arms, watching intently as her body gave in to relief, stepping in to my embrace with an open heart. She was such a wonderfully, beautiful person. I wrapped my arms around her, drinking in the smell of her perfume, kissing the softness of her hair. I thought of the magical day we had spent together and raged at the knowledge that things would be so much simpler in societies eyes if she were a man. She gripped the back of my coat in bunched fists, desperate to hold me as tightly as she possibly could. It would be simper but it would not be the same. It would not be her. I thought of the softness of her body, the gentle curves and lines that I had spent hours pouring over with my eyes, tracing with my hands. I thought of the way she smelt, the perfume that she dabbed at her delicate wrists, that smelt both strong and soft but unmistakably feminine. I thought of her hands in mine, small but purposeful hands that loved me fiercely. No I would not change. I would not change this.

Therese glared at the opened suitcase on the bed with a slowly simmering hatred.

"I won't be long" I assured her, swooping down for a chaste kiss. I folded a shirt, placing it neatly in to the suitcase, tutting at Therese as she attempted to remove it. "Just an overnight visit" I reminded her, placing the offending item back in to the case with a firm look.

"I won't be able to sleep without you" She mumbled miserably. "We haven't slept apart since I came to live here"

I couldn't help but coo over her, indulging her pouting lips and grumpy face. "My darling I have to go. Abbie isn't well and we need somebody to choose the new line of furniture for the store"

She shrugged her shoulders, committed to being as petulant as possible. Even in tantrums she was magnificently beautiful. I sat down beside her on the bed and slipped an arm around her neck. "I'll call you when I get there"

She nodded her head. "I can see I'm not going to be able to convince you not to go" She sighed dramatically.

I chuckled in response with a shake of my head. "I'm afraid not" I replied, kissing her nose.

The 'sure fire rocket' as Abbie had described her was a formidable woman, dressed to kill in a tightly fitting dress and heels. Her strawberry blonde hair had a soft wave to it, lips a subtle shade of pink and with nails painted a deep aubergine. She drummed her fingers against a book shelf, receiver tucked against her ear with an air of impatience.

"I don't care…" Her voice was calm but confident, filling the room to leave me with a sense of awkwardness. As of yet she had not noticed me and I was hesitant to interrupt her conversation. "…I wanted it yesterday!" She exclaimed. "Patrick now you listen to me carefully, I want that piece tomorrow. No ifs not ands not buts…NO excuses" She slammed the phone down, sending vibrations through the coffee table.

Not a minute later her eyes settled on me, just the smallest hint of alarm coming to the surface before it was contained, hidden behind an air of professionalism. "My apologies" She greeted me, extending a hand.

"Sounds like you've got a live wire there" I replied, holding her hand in mine and noting that she had a firm shake.

"That's putting it mildly" She said with a raised brow. "How can I help you?"

"I'm here for Abbie" I explained.

"Ahh!" She exclaimed with a wide smile. "So you're the Carol?" She asked with a hint of suggestion in her tone. I wondered how much Abbie had told her and how much I'd have to wring her neck when I got back.

"The one and only" I replied with a mock degree of self-importance.

"Well now, it's lovely to meet you. I'm Cynthia. What do you say I close up shop and pour us a brandy? I've had a killer of a day" She walked towards the door with a swing of her hips and a bounce in her step. As the door swung shut, creaking in sympathy, I couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. Nothing settled your nerves like a good brandy.

I took off my hat, glancing in a mirror, to preen my hair. "That sounds like a marvellous idea" I said, concentrating on the task of fixing my unruly hat hair.

I don't know how long she had been standing there before she coughed under her breath and offered me a large glass. I felt my cheeks flush, ever so slightly, thinking how terribly vain she must think me. She had a knowing expression in her eyes, perching on the arm of a chair to sip at the crystal tumbler in her hands. "So…" She began, pursing her lips in thought. "…What are your plans?"

"My plans?" I smiled politely back at her. "I'd like to settle the tab for our new line and arrange for it to be delivered?"

She nodded her head slowly. "Well now that should take all of the best part of half an hour. I don't imagine you're travelling home this evening?" She asked searchingly.

I took a hearty slug of the brandy, feeling it warm a path down my throat. "I've got a hotel room"

"And reservations for dinner?" She asked with a searching look.

"I hadn't thought about it" I admitted with a shrug of my shoulders.

She drank down the last of her brandy and slapped her hands together with finality. "Well then that's settled it. I'm fixing you a dinner…"

"No honestly I couldn't impose" I insisted.

"Nonsense! A friend of Abbie's is a friend of mine and no friend of mine is eating alone on a Friday night" She said forcefully, her eyes wide and bright, matching the smile on her face. "Now I suggest we get this sorted out and I'll give you my address"

She began scrambling around in the back room leaving me to consider her suggestion. I felt a pang of concern in the pit of my stomach. She was friendly enough, perhaps a little too friendly? I couldn't be sure. I thought back to my conversation with Abbie.

"I'm telling you I would have had this one in the bag!" She had told me with a tone of despair. I shook away any lingering doubts. She was just being friendly, I reiterated.

"Have you eaten?" I asked. I lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Not yet. I'm going out for a couple of drinks with the guys from the office" She told me. "It's Jack's birthday so we're going to celebrate with a few beers"

"A few?"

She chuckled into the receiver and the sound of her laughter warmed my heart. "A few" She repeated./span/div

"I'll expect a phone call at three am that says differently" I countered.

She laughed again. "I apologise in advance" I could hear the smile in her words and my mind happily painted a picture of her in our home. She'd still be in the outfits she wore to work, professional but not as stuffy as a pant suit. I wondered if she was wearing her beautiful spotted blouse, tucked in to the waist band of her black trousers. I loved her in that blouse. She somehow managed to be demure and bohemian all at the same time.

"Don't" I urged sounding more serious than I had intended. "It's charming. You're always so passionate and demonstrative when you've been drinking"

"I'll remember that. What are you going to do?"

I exhaled deeply. "Abbie's friend has invited me over for dinner"/span/div

"That's nice of her"

It was, I reasoned. It was very nice of her. "I don't know" I groaned, conflicted. "She's very over familiar" I admitted, laying down on the bed.

"People are always over familiar with you Carol"

"Are they?"

"They're curious about you. You're a very interesting person" She asserted.

I laughed loudly, punctuating her sentence. "Is that so?"

"Mm hmm" She hummed.

"Maybe you're right. I don't know…" I sighed again. "…It would be rude to turn down such a polite invitation" I reasoned, attempting to convince myself in the process.

"Exactly. That's the doorbell. I'd better go. I love you"

"I love you too"

"I'll give you a call…say three am to check she hasn't invited you over for breakfast" She said teasingly.

"Very funny!"

"Please sit down. Make yourself comfortable" Cynthia called out from the kitchen. There was the distant sound of music flowing in from the kitchen and the smell of a hot meal cooking that triggered my rumbling stomach. I looked around the living room. It was immaculately designed, with stylish pieces of furniture and a sprawling book shelf that spanned from floor to ceiling. The books were mostly first editions, spines showing the wear and tear of age, bound in colours of greens and reds.

"My fathers" I turned to find her leaning against the doorframe and drying her hands on the apron she was wearing. "Inherited" She added with a non committal shrug of her shoulders that told me more than I needed to know.

"They're remarkable"

She smiled at me, her eyes lingering on my frame. "Dinner should be ready in a moment. Glass of wine?"

"A small one" I interjected much to her surprise. "I'm driving" I explained.

She gave me one last lingering look before returning to the kitchen. There was a palpable tension in the air and there was no denying it. I sat down on the leather sofa, feeling it give way, ever so slightly beneath me. With a deep sigh I contemplated the evening ahead with a conflicting feeling.

"Dinner's ready" Cynthia called out and I stood up, following the sound of her voice in to the dining room.

The dinner table was set impeccably, with a beautiful bloom of flowers filling the room with an evocative sweetness. Two bowls of steaming soup were laid out on the table with freshly baked rolls.

"Looks delicious" I said, sitting down at the table. Perhaps things wouldn't be so awkward after all?

Later on we retired to the living room with a sherry.

"You're a good looking woman Carol" Cynthia spoke the words with a glint in her eyes.

I blinked back the surprise. "Thank you" I replied politely.

"You're surprised to hear me say that?" She sat back on the sofa, tucking her bare feet beneath her.

I shrugged my shoulders and tilted my head to the side. "Not exactly"

She lifted her head back with laughter, the sound of her throaty chuckle filling the room with sound. "Well alright then" She said under her breath. "Abbie told me that you were both in a relationship, at one time. That it had been complicated"

"A long time ago" I interrupted.

She moved closer. "I wasn't expecting you to be so striking"

"Really I…" My cheeks flushed and I was filled with a sense of awkwardness which she mistook for my being coy. She placed a hand over mine, stroking the back of my hand with her fingertips. "Cynthia I'm in a relationship" I explained.

"I know" She moved her hand on to my knee, cupping it with a gentle grasp. "This doesn't have to go any further" She assured me, stroking my knee gently. "Abbie has remarkably good taste"

She began to lean in closer, so close that I could smell her perfume, strong and fragrant but not at like Therese's. It jarred with my memories and I pushed her hand away from me in one swift movement. I could see the surprise in her eyes as I got to my feet.

"Thank you for your hospitality" I politely said.

Cynthia remained seated her features framed with a look of disbelief. "Carol…"

"It's getting late" I announced coldly, my words clipped.

"Stay…" She cajoled, tugging on my arm gently.

"It's getting late" I repeated.

She shook her head, chuckling dryly under her breath. "Well I'll be damned" She muttered. "I misread the signs"

I shot her a look of irritation. "You saw what you wanted to see"

"I saw what I wanted to see?" She asked, sitting up to cross her slender legs.

"I'll pass on your regards to Abbie" I shot back, retrieving my coat from a hanger in the hallway. She followed me, placing a hand on my shoulder as I put on my coat in a hurry.

"What can I say?" She wondered aloud. "Can't blame a girl for trying"

I sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly until the tips of my fingers turned white with the strain. Sat in the back was my suitcase, hurriedly packed and dumped on the back seat without hesitation. I couldn't explain it but Cynthia's advances had unnerved me. It had reminded me of how lonely I had been before Therese. It reminded me of the nights I had spent with women like Cynthia, always hurried, always rushed, always with a sense of shame. It had been so easy, had seemed so easy, just to give in to my desires for one, solitary night. Easy? I shuddered at the thought. It hadn't been easy, in fact it had taken pieces of me with it.

Suddenly the idea of staying in a cold hotel room had seemed like torture. I started the engine and drove off in to the night.

When I reached the street to our house the clock in the car read 3.00am. I smiled at the coincidence of it, wondering if Therese would be home and what state she would be in.

I turned my key in the lock as quietly as I possibly could, wincing at the jarring sounds of the lock turning open. I opened the door, a faint light shining from the kitchen. There was the sound of low music floating in to my ears, filling my senses with a warmth I savoured.

"Hello?" Therese called out, her head darting out from the opened kitchen doorway. Her expression was a mixture of fear and intrigue, a rolled cigarette teetering between two fingers. "Carol?!" She asked, alarmed.

I closed the door behind me stepping towards her, each solid movement feeling like a lifetime of distance between us. She was wearing my oversized white shirt, one side of it tucked in to the waist band of her black trousers, the other dangling loosely in front of her. Her beautiful, thick hair, was hastily tied back, soft tumbling locks falling in front of her face.

"I thought you were staying at a hotel?" She asked with mounting confusion only amplified by my sudden grip around her waist. "Carol?" Her voice was muffled by my hair as I held her to me without so much as an inch to spare. "Did something happen?"

"Let's just say she invited me for breakfast" I replied in a dead pan tone.

"Abbie's friend made a pass at you?"

I nodded in to her chest. "I just wanted to be with you. I didn't want to wait"

"What did she do?" Therese asked with a note of concern. She held my shoulders in her hands, gently backing me away, her eyes scanning my face.

"She tried to make a move" I mumbled, busying myself with tracing the shape of her body under the billowing shirt. "Nothing I haven't had before but…" I trailed off, shaking my head in a effort to push back this overwhelming feeling that left me exposed and vulnerable in her arms. She scanned my face, her eyes seemingly reading my every thought. She had an ability, a gift I called it, to sense things. Call it intuition, call it a deep sensitivity and compassion, but I knew I didn't have to explain the way I was feeling. I knew that she understood.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to press a kiss against the side of my head. "Let's have a beer and I'll roll you a cigarette"

"I can relive my youth" I quipped feeling myself instantly relaxed in her company.

She gave me a sideways glance before retrieving two cold bottles of beer from the fridge. She held them in one hand, reaching to hold mine in the other. She grasped my hand in hers, leading me in to the living room. She opened a bottle, handing it to me with a charming look in her eyes. I couldn't put it in to words but the sight of her, here in front of me, so haphazardly dressed and with an endearing smile on her face, made my stomach flip. I felt like a school girl, blushing under the watchful eyes of her crush. She was charming alright, more charming than I could handle. As she busied herself, rolling two perfectly formed cigarettes on a bent knee, I thought about how much I wanted her, how much I adored her. It sounded so smug in her head but I couldn't believe my luck. To feel such intense want and to love someone, whole just as they were, felt like a gift I had never anticipated having.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, curiously.

I drank down a mouthful of my beer and reached for a cigarette. "I'll show you in about..." I trailed off, estimating the time it would take me to drain the contents of the bottle and smoke down the rolled cigarette. "...say ten minutes or so?"

Her eyes grew larger, cheeks tinged subtly pink, and a coy smile framing her exquisite mouth as her mind began to run wild. "Yes ma'am" She replied with a mock salute, lighting both of our cigarettes in one swift movement.

I smiled back at her and took a long drag of the cigarette, allowing my eyes to linger on her suggestively as I exhaled a cloud of smoke, teasing myself with the thought of pulling open that shirt and kissing the softness I knew waited for me. She watched me closely, content to take part in this game of anticipation. She smoked silently, almost broodingly, and I marvelled at the way she looked, deep in contemplation. I stubbed out my cigarette and watched as she repeated the action.

"Come with me" I whispered my voice gravelly and filled with intention.