Back in London and we were having a ball. Lachlan was like a brother to me- actually he was much better than a brother- my brother and I fight all the time. I didn't fight with Lachlan. We did heaps of stuff together. He wanted to see London- so we did the usual sightseeing and tourist thing and I actually got to the Tower of London and Madame Tussaud's at last - typically, like most Brits, I had never done that before.

We spent two days at the house, mainly chucking rubbish out into a skip and ripping up old carpets. One day we investigated the attic, which is really creepy- like something out of an old horror movie- and found a treasure trove of past inhabitants abandoned to the ravages of time. There were pieces of ancient furniture and old trunks full of children's clothes, all moth-eaten and sad, books and toys rotting away. But despite these reminders of the past, Lachlan agreed with me that the house had a happy feel; there was nothing there that means us harm even if we do have to reside with spirits who claim this place by virtue of prior residence.

The weather was quite good, so we took drives in my new motor (by the way, she is called Mercy- Mercedes- natch. Would so love to introduce her to Jack. He can ride her anytime he likes and the suspension is great. We can bounce to our heart's content!) Lachlan and I explored Kent and the south coast, just day trips to historic towns like Canterbury and Hastings and runs to the beaches at Margate and Brighton- a little tacky, I know, but the 'kiss me quick', saucy quirky seaside charm amused us both; we ate fish and chips and candy floss, rode roller coasters until we were sick and paddled in the sea- neither of us game enough to actually immerse ourselves in the cold waters even in July.

I felt different. I can't say I'm better - I am definitely a long way from that- but I'm getting more fatalistic about everything and I know in time I'll pull myself out of this. Dare I say that I'm glad Terry isn't here? Sounds dreadful, doesn't it? I miss him so much, every moment of every day, but I feel free of a weight now that he has gone. What does that mean? We talk each night and morning and I can feel his relief as he detects my mood brightening and my old self returning. But I also detect a sense that he wishes it were he who could have been there for me. I'm not sure how to explain why it can't be.

I haven't had a nightmare since Lachlan came. I sleep fitfully but there are no ghosts lurking by my bed or in my dreams these nights. That was the state of affairs, however, until last night. I'm not sure what brought it on. We had had dinner on the balcony- a rare treat to have a fine night warm enough to do so. The view over Hyde Park Corner and Piccadilly is impressive and we sat a long time over a bottle of wine, enjoying the late evening sunshine and the view of the bustling streets below at the height of the tourist season.

Lachlan was talking about Australia as he remembered it and how it had changed. I told him about the trip we'd made last year. Suddenly we got onto the subject of holidays, the cruise came up, and the next thing I know he asked me about what happened in New Orleans. The thing I call "IT". I wondered if he had been waiting for this chance or whether it was a genuine curiosity borne of the moment. So I told him the outline and he asked a few questions.

"What was the worst thing for you?" he suddenly asked.

I lit a cigarette feeling suddenly cold, as if a premonition of the grave had descended on me. I shivered and reached for a wrap on the back of the chair. "It was all pretty bad," I replied. "I can't really pick a worst moment." But even as I said that I knew that I was disseminating. I couldn't answer the question but I knew that there was an answer out there and that I was close- somehow he had asked the very question that needed to be answered.

He nodded, did not push me and then embarked on a reminiscence of his own. "The worst thing for me was the thought that life is arbitrary. I used to love the unexpected quality of life- you know the little surprises that you just bumped into? Then I saw the other side of that coin- the big bad nightmares that can wait for you in that dark room, too. Zeke, that poor bastard Scotty, Lil's brother, poncy Nigel...and I hadn't even got to the war. Betsy, Lill, her husband, her Dad and sister, Johnny, me...all shattered by things we could not control. Some surprises. Makes you want to run and hide. Like you're doing now, Uma. But it doesn't make anything go away, does it? It just fills your head until it bursts."

I didn't respond; I wasn't sure I could trust myself or even knew how to. Lachlan, God bless him, didn't pursue the issue - but his words stayed with me. I had always loved the wild adventure of life, the unexpected thought that I did not know what would happen next, and now I was scared even of my own home. Some surprise, hey?

We cleared away and went to bed shortly afterwards. Since Paris there had been no resumption of the romantic moments we had shared; I have a suspicion that Lachlan was uncomfortable in another man's home and holding himself apart on purpose- I did not press him, even though I had often felt the urge to feel his arms around me again. I remember thinking that again as we said goodnight. I wished he were more to me than a platonic brother just then and immediately berated myself for my lack of moral fibre. Lachlan would not have thought like that; he was so respectful of my relationship with Terry and the way I was feeling at the moment. He knew the choices I might make now were ones that I might regret.

Terry called, as he does every night before I sleep- early morning for him; I spoke to him but he was dashing off to a meeting and couldn't hang about. However I think he was on my mind even more than usual as I dropped off to sleep. And then it happened. The worst one I've ever had- the nightmare to end all nightmares.

LACHLAN

I woke up with a start to the sound of her screaming. I was out of that bed and through the door almost before my brain had woken up. It was a plaintive wail, eerie and haunted, thick with pain and fear.

By the time I yanked open the door, she had stopped screaming but was babbling incoherently, in a frenzy, her arms flailing out at some imagined demon, her eyes wide with terror.

I ran to her and tried to hold her but it only scared her more- she screamed again and hit me- a real slap across the face that knocked my head reeling back - and then she began to kick and scratch. I remembered Bud's groin. Backing away, I began to talk to her softly, calmly calling her name and telling her where she was and who I was; she began to listen and slowly but surely her breathing regulated- she was coming out of it. And then I held her while she curled up like a little kitten and whimpered, her thumb in her mouth, rocking back and forwards in my arms, keening softly.

She was hot and sweaty, her hair hanging in a tangle- I swept it back off her face and she looked up at me, her eyes like a bandicoot in the headlights. "He was here. He came for me," she gasped out. "Raul."

"No, he wasn't. It was a dream, love, just a bad dream," I replied, stroking the tears from her face. My thumb traced a pattern and then touched her lips; she nuzzled against my hand and kissed my fingertips. The next thing I know I had kissed her and her hands crept up behind my neck to pull me in closer. If I had stopped and thought about it, I would have never taken it further, but my brain just ceased up. I lost myself in the moment. Drawn by her need and her fragility, wanting to be a man for her, driven by my own desire, I touched her and crossed the barrier between friend and lover.

She was wearing very little, as modern women do in bed...not the wincyette jammies of my day- mind you, a bloke could always find something lustful even in those if he was on a promise. Uma had on a short T-shirt with silky ribbon straps and a tiny pair of panties. How much provocation can a bloke take? Her skin is soft, her body delicate- a little bit waif-like, not like the sturdier girls I had mostly known before. She was on my knee and I was only wearing a pair of boxer shorts - she must have felt my interest almost as soon as I did. I heard her whisper my name as we fell back onto the bed, my hands creeping across her breasts, the thin material hiding nothing, her nipples rigid and clearly visible.

I slipped further down, under the T-shirt, felt her flesh, the softness of her small flat belly, the lace of her underwear and the warm damp haven between her thighs. I made love to her and it was so good. It was impossible to regret what happened for, as it transpired, it turned the tide for both of us, even if the only thought on my mind at the time was much less noble. I wanted to be deep inside her and to feel her wrapped around me, safe from harm and mine if only for a night.

UMA

He was there. He was in my bed. Raul, naked and bleeding, his hand over my mouth, choking the breath from me. I heard his voice, oily and seductive, whispering foul things and enjoying my fear. And then he told me. "It is only a matter of time...."

Lachlan. I heard him. He was calling my name ... "I am here and you are safe with me. It's just a bad dream, love, I'm here." Lachlan... Lachlan. He held me and I was safe. He kissed me and drove the horror away. He touched me and healed my pain. I had wanted him so much but it was only that moment in his arms that I realized exactly how much. And then he lay me down on the bed and his hands began their journey across my body while his legs intertwined with mine and the hard velvet of his cock hovered between us, half felt, half sensed, a promise of our pleasure still to come.

Minutes ticked away as we kissed and touched, his hands gentle but insistent, his lips warm but in control of me. I let him take command, lay back and offered myself, overwhelmed by the passion of his lovemaking, aware that he had kept this hidden from me for far too long.

He was almost naked when he came in - just wearing his shorts- and I could feel him hot and hard pressed against my belly. I wanted to touch him, see him but I didn't want to spoil the moment- would he back off if I were too forward? I did not know his comfort level with this but suspected it was not what he had intended. So I watched and I waited for him to make the move, as I suspected he would be more accustomed to- would women in his experience have inaugurated sexual foreplay? I felt sure that he would only have had that from prostitutes or women of easy virtue and did not wish him to compare me with them- even if the comparison was a valid one.

But I needn't have worried. He is an experienced and a skilful lover, tender and eager. His lips left my mouth and began to follow his fingers, uncovering my body- first lowering the straps on my top and kissing a trail down my neck and throat to the hollow of my breasts. Then he lay them bare and groaned deep and low, before placing a gentle kiss on each pert nipple, his tongue glancing across them as light as a feather- the delicacy making my sex shiver.

He played with my breasts as if they were something of great beauty, smiling and pulling away to look and touch and suck and kiss...catching my eye and showing me the wonder he felt. How can any woman resist the knowledge that she is so desirable that a man might feel like this about her? With his head buried there I lay enraptured, like a princess in some erotic tale.

We did not speak - I was still hovering in some Limbo with a yawning abyss on one side and his strong arms the only route to safety. We just made love - I in his arms helpless and whimpering softly, he taking the lead and giving me his strong young body, his head buried in my neck as he buried himself deep within me; together we writhed and surged, almost unaware of what we were doing, driven by so many forces beyond our control.

I sensed the change in him, that moment when a man has no more ability to master but allows himself to be mastered. With a few shuddering sighs, he emptied himself into me and I held him close as he moaned against my flesh.

I would have held him there all night if I could have but he calmed and rolled away, lying on his back, his hand flung across his eyes.

"What is it? Tell me- did I do something wrong?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "No...not you...me ...that shouldn't have happened. I came in to help you- not take advantage. I'm ashamed of myself."

I rose up on one arm and stroked his hair, pulling the hand from his face, making him look at me.

"It was the best thing you could have done. Do you think I would let any man take advantage of me if I didn't want it? Lachlan, I wanted you and you loved me well. Don't ever apologise for love. It's a great and glorious thing to be with a woman and make her feel loved. Thank you for that."

He smiled and ran his hands through his hair. "I promise I won't act like this again. If you're better now, I'll go back to my room...but I'm there if you need me..." He raised himself to go, turned his back in embarrassment to hide his nakedness and mine as he pulled on his shorts. My hand reached out and held him back.

"No...don't go...don't leave me. I need you. I want you to sleep by my side. And if we want to love again...then we will. Let it happen. You've broken the barrier between us. You are a Brother. There is nothing forbidden between us."

"You're sure?"

I nodded and smiled. "Very sure. As sure as I have been about anything these past few weeks."

With a shrug somewhere between embarrassment and satisfaction, Lachlan rolled back to me and held out his arms; I came to him and felt contentment. I was safe and I suddenly realized that he was gone. My head was empty of the demon who had stalked my waking and my sleeping. Cuddling up to his strong naked chest, we lay just touching, in silence, and I suppose we fell asleep like that, two innocents seeking a shelter from the storm like Hansel and Gretel in the wood.

Light was pouring through my window when I woke. For a while I lay between sleep and reality, my mind foggy with the deep sleep I had enjoyed; I felt as if my body had been drugged, so unused was it to the sensation of ease. A soft sigh made me jump and turn my head to where Lachlan lay beside me. He was lying on his front, his head buried into the pillow, his arms flung above. I touched his shoulder, stroked him gently, felt him stir and move towards me, pulling me against him.

I rolled onto my side; he spooned against me, settling back to sleep, but muttering into my ear... "Just let me park my bike...." and then easing his morning hard on against the crease of my butt. I giggled at the expression- so like an Aussie bloke - God, I love Aussies!

And then the phone rang and I grabbed the receiver, trying not to wake him.

"Hey...morning, baby," Terry's voice clear as if he was in the room startled me; I sat up and extracted myself from Lachlan's grip. He rolled onto his back and carried on sleeping.

"Terry! What an unexpected surprise...what you doing?"  I carried the phone to the bathroom, closed the door and sat on the loo while I spoke to him.

"Me? I've an appointment with the Minister...he's keeping me waiting, usual crap. Thought I'd talk to my best girl to pass the time. Did I wake you? It's past nine..."

"No, I was awake, just. Having a lazy morning. How's Heather? Give her my love." I smiled as I said it. I am so glad that she's with him, I have Lachlan and he has her.

"She's fine. Aw...we're having a whale of a time...she's a great girl. I'm really taken with her, Tink. Know what I mean?"

I giggled. "I guess I do, Casanova. But I'm glad you're having fun. You deserve it."

"Well, I'm working hard, too. But all work and no play makes Terry a dull boy...hey, you sound chirpy...feeling better?"

"Every day in every way...I am getting better and better...really I am. I am so much better. You would be so proud of me, Terry."

"I already am. Couldn't be more proud of you if I tried. Think he's gonna see me now... have to go. Take care. I'll call tonight. Love you."

"Love you more!" I shouted as he hung up. I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror, sex-rumpled and messy but happy; my heart sang for the sheer joy of being this way. I slipped into the shower and freshened up, emerging perfumed and combed, teeth brushed and wrapped in a silk robe, the way you do when you have slept with someone for the first time.

Returning to the bedroom, the light still muted, I observed the man sleeping in my bed. He was lying back, an arm above his head the other flung out, the covers pushed down to reveal his beautiful chest and his legs splayed out beneath the sheet, taking up the lion's share of the bed. The outline of his erection could be clearly seen; he had a slight smile on his face and I wondered if his dream were erotic.

It was hard to resist him like that and I slipped back to bed, to lie beside him. He must have felt the bed depress for he stirred and his eyes flickered open; he licked his lips and looked about him, catching my eye.

"I thought I dreamed it," he whispered.

I shook my head. "No...that was for real.  And so is this." I opened the robe and let it fall, rising to my knees to give him access, the silk flowing behind me, and my body naked to his gaze. He rubbed his hand over his stubble, shook himself slightly and looked at my eyes for permission. It was willingly granted. Stretching out a hand he pushed away the soft folds of the robe and let his knuckles skim my body, caressing it lightly and then pulled me in and down to lie by his side. This time he was more openly sexual, more knowing; this was not the spontaneous bursting forth of passion of the night before but a more experienced adult love.

Slowly he continued his journey across my still-unknown land, his mouth now the explorer. I watched him place kisses down my body, his tongue flickering into my navel, his hands firm on my hips as he eased down the panties I wore and followed the trail until he uncovered my hair. He stopped and observed, stroking the neat little strip and shaking his head. "I can't get used to this. I don't know why you girls do it. Don't you know this is what drives a man wild? Dark shiny soft hair, thick and curly..."he moaned and kissed my mound while I thought about why I do it. Not for any man I've ever known, to be honest. Just to make it look neat in a bikini- when they would all much prefer a few tell tales wisps to fire their imagination. It's funny really- we are so turned on by their hair- do we imagine they would not feel the same about ours?

But time to stop thinking. Time for sensation. Lachlan's hand slipped between my legs and eased them apart, gasping when he saw me naked and revealed, the first signs of his control wavering. He trailed his fingertips along my slit, slick with thick wetness, tasted his fingers and closed his eyes. He is so sensual, his feelings reflected on his face at every instance.

Wriggling down, he lowered his head and his tongue met my lips. I swear I jumped at the delicious pleasure of his lapping and sucking, writhed as he found my nub and teased it lightly between his teeth, arched and bucked as he slipped a finger deep within me and massaged me gently. Everything about him and his lovemaking was sure but tender. I knew that he would spend all day in loving me if that is what it took to make me happy and never think of himself at all.

But I so wanted to show him the same tenderness. As he pleasured me, I spoke to him, told him how he made me feel, how much I wanted him in every way, the words a man needs to hear to make him whole. "Let me love you, Lachlan. Let me show you what I want to do for you."

My feet were on his shoulders: I was half seated on my elbows, hands brushing through his unruly fringe. He paused, looked up at me, his eyes smouldering and his mouth sticky with me. "No, you don't have to do that...I wouldn't expect that..."

I smiled. "But I love to love a man. It's part of the intense pleasure...I don't do it because I have to..."

His answer was a whimper; he came and lay beside me on his back and let me touch him. His grey shorts were tented, a wet spot forming where his cock had seeped its fluid; he ran his hands through his hair and lay on his palms, watching me, his breathing laboured.

"Tell me what you want me to do! Say it, Lachlan! The words will turn us on even more..."

He exhaled slowly, closed his eyes a moment and then muttered: "Touch me...Christ, I want you to touch me..."

"Where?"

"My cock...please... touch me..."

I pulled down his shorts and bared him, dragging them off his legs as he kicked them away. He was so hard- his head deep purple and hot to the touch, pearling with moisture. Even before I touched it, he whimpered- my eyes alone making it hard for him to take. I looked at him, his tongue out and his eyes hooded, the boyish virility replaced by a more sexual man on the brink of revealing his true sensuality.

I stroked his cock gently, pulled the skin back to reveal its swollen majesty, massaged the vein that throbbed beneath my touch, pushed against its momentum to stretch it against his belly as he groaned; then I jerked him smoothly and watched his reaction as his head lolled back and he widened his legs instinctively.

"Tell me what you want...tell me what you really want..." I whispered.

And then he hissed out what he longed for... "Take me in your mouth, Uma...love me with your mouth."

I trailed my tongue slowly down him watching his reaction as he shuddered and groaned. Swirling my tongue, I stimulated the tender ridge and lapped the seeping hole; his moaning became rhythmic as he struggled against sensation.

"Suck me....for God's sake, suck me..." he gasped and I opened my mouth and sucked down hard , feeling the sweet loosening of his body to me as I ministered to his cock; feeling the jerking motion of his hips as he thrust himself against my willing mouth. I adore men like this and no man deserved this special treat as much as this beautiful bloke, my friend, my companion, the man who had led me through the valley of darkness.

But I should have known that he would not have wanted to take his own pleasure without considering mine. When he was all but lost, he pulled me from him, breathed a few deep breaths and raised me to lie upon him. I sat up and straddled him while he played with my breasts and fondled my belly and then I raised my hips and lowered myself down upon his rampant cock- inch by inch I took him in until he disappeared inside me and we were pressed together, just our hair entwined.

His thumb slipped down to seek out my nub and, as he circled it, I began to raise and lower myself slowly, gasping as I fucked him. One of his hands clenched my butt and he met my movement with his own thrusts. The counter motion hit home and could feel my orgasm mounting with every fall and rise and each whirl of his thumb on my sensitive zone. He began to whisper encouragement - not crude but erotic - as I danced before him on his cock."Yes, that's right...feel it...get your own pleasure. Move on me, girl. Come for me...ahhh yeah....Oh God.... I can feel you...I can feel you..." His thumb had brought me to the heights and I slipped the surly bonds of earth all right; he could feel my orgasm clamping tight against him and then I threw back my head and cried out as he held my hips to keep me upright. I sagged forward and then slumped onto his chest; he rolled me back and whispered, kissed me and then began to find own release as I surged beneath his measured stroke- in and out, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. One further wild desperate cry from me and then his own answering choked grunt as he shuddered into me, waves of hot wetness flooding through me. The sensation was of flying and his poem rang in my ears:

Wheeled and soared and swung 
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung 
My eager craft through footless halls of air. 

"Lachlan..." I gasped and then the rain clouds parted and I wept for joy, for relief and for that knowledge that had haunted my tired brain for so long. There it was, clear and obvious, the answer to the final clue, so obvious I couldn't imagine why I hadn't recognized it before.

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod 
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God. 

It had never been about me. Or Raul. Or death. Or rape. It had been much simpler that that. I was afraid for Terry. My invincible hero was now as vulnerable as every other man. I lived in fear of the day another phone call would come and this time I would not be able to save him.Lachlan held me and asked me what was wrong. I told him through a jumble of tears and rambling utterances, pouring the secret that had plagued me for so long, the sliver of ice buried deep in my heart beginning to thaw. I felt pain - but the numbness was gone. He listened and let me finish and then he asked a question:"What do you want most? Where do you go now from here?" I rubbed my eyes and thought, but there was only one place I really wanted to be."I want to go to Terry."

He nodded, a look of resignation passing over his face; he knew he had merely been the conduit, never the fountain, however much he had willed it to be different.

"Let's check the board. See when Heather leaves. Then I'll fly you there...if you're sure..."

I was ready to face the final hurdle and talk to Terry. I was ready to be the woman he needed with the courage to stand by him and the path he had chosen. Life with him was never going to be easy but it would always be an adventure, that was for sure. Perhaps I was going to be able to ride the roller coaster with him after all.