January 17th 2004

The day passed smoothly- a beautiful meal served in the elegant Georgian dining room that had been exquisitely decorated for the occasion. A witty and erudite speech by Stephen followed by an even more amusing and somewhat earthier one by Jack (who had already imbibed a good measure of wine even before he started on the port and the after-dinner brandy) to enliven the proceedings. The children, however, were straining at the leash and well before we broke from the table, they were slipping off their seats and trying to escape. Lily spent most of the meal on the floor crawling underneath the table and messing about with other children who had the same idea. Little Cathy White was seated across from her and they seemed to enjoy hiding away and playing with flowers from the table, name cards and other decorations.

Maximus gave up trying to retrieve her when he realized that she was probably less trouble curled up at our feet and playing out of sight. For once we could eat a meal in peace, actually talk to each other and those adults around us, without constant interruptions- it was a pleasant experience. Of course at one point Maximus spoiled it by whispering "You see, when you have more than one child, they amuse each other..." I simply gave him my death look but he bore it bravely and gave me his knowing expression in return.

Finally we adjourned to the ballroom, now miraculously transformed from chapel to dance floor, and the evening's entertainment began. There was a live band which was very good- they seemed able to reproduce almost any era or sound and the music was wide and varied - very appropriate, given the clientele. They did fall woefully lacking in the classical dancing girls' department, however: i.e. Maximus' musical tastes were not catered for. I settled back, expecting another evening of wallflowerdom. The only chance I would get would be if I took my daughter on the floor- but even she seemed to have plenty of partners- the children all danced together and were having a whale of a time.

After a while we were joined by Terry and Ann, Heather and Dino who had all been on the floor and were in good spirits. We ordered a bottle of champagne and toasted the bride and groom and anything else we could think of. Conversation was sparkling and amusing- it was that time in the proceedings when we had drunk enough to be lively but not too much to start to be stupid.

"Hey, Max- when are you going to take your lovely wife on the floor?" Dino asked. I made a wry face and Maximus smiled. "I'm hardly what you would call a dancer. It wasn't considered essential in my training."

Just then Ann's cell phone rang; she answered it (which annoyed me, of course. Anyone with any sense of decorum would have it switched off at such a function) but it was apparently "Very urgent. I'll take this outside- the office." So she disappeared off. Dino and Heather took to the floor again- pulled up by young Andy who suddenly got the urge to dance with his Mom and Dad - and we three were left alone.

"So...no dancing?" Terry smiled.

Maximus suddenly turned to him. "Why don't you take Uma on the floor? I know her feet are tapping. She would love to be up there, wouldn't you?"

I hunched my shoulders, feeling a little awkward. I wasn't sure if I actually wanted to be that close to Terry Thorne. I mean...I did want to be that close to him -which is why I didn't- if you know what I mean?

I don't suppose there was much Terry could do once Maximus had put him on the spot like that. I noticed him taking a quick glance at the door out of which Ann had just disappeared and wondered if he was worried about her reaction. Somehow the thought of that amused me- it looked like he was the henpecked husband, as unlikely as it seemed.

"Er...yeah...delighted...Uma?" He stood up and held out his hand; I took it and smiled back at Maximus who seemed perfectly happy to let me go. Why shouldn't he? Terry is probably his closest friend among the Brothers and a man he respects. He wouldn't doubt his intentions.

We got onto the floor just as the music swung into an up-tempo piece. A jive.  We both grinned and I reached out and took his arms. Except I did it wrong. I grabbed him as if I were the man and proceeded to lead him.

"Uma...I think this is the wrong way round..." Terry pointed out. My hands flew to my face as I started laughing.

"Oh my God! You'll never believe this but I studied at The White House for about twelve years and when we did any modern dances we girls were invariably paired up- there were never enough male dancers. As I was quite tall, I always had to be the man. It's instinctive now..."

"White House?" he asked quizzically.

"Royal Ballet School- junior division. I had ambitions but grew too tall and wasn't good enough anyway for the big time."

"A real dancer? Then I defer to your greater knowledge, madam. So, lead away- let's see if I can manage it as a woman for a change..."

It was such a lark. Of course Terry, who is a really good dancer, kept tripping over his feet as I led him and we staggered from one obstacle to another laughing our heads off. I suppose people were watching us and we were making a bit of a show of ourselves, but it was harmless enough. Terry was so funny and kept coming out with these quips like:

"Take your hands of my arse- it's a first date."

"I'm waiting to see you throw me over your shoulder."

And the one that really set us off. "You're never going to fit me between your legs..." he said it and we both immediately realized the innuendo implicit and snorted with laughter. I replied cheekily, "Well, you never know until you try, mate." His eyes sparkled and his tongue peeked from his bottom lip in his cheeky boy expression that seemed so incongruous with his masculine face- but adorable anyway. The music stopped and moved onto a distinctly familiar beat. It was that cheesy piece from "Dirty Dancing" - the one that was the final set piece dance to the film - "The Time of my Life."

"That's enough of this crap...take this up a notch. See if I can still remember how to be a man...let's get dirty, Uma" And he swung me into a close embrace. He can dance- so can I- and after the ludicrous icebreaker of our first attempt, we were ready to show each other something finer. And dance we did. It was only at the end that I realised how much attention we had won; the others had cleared us a place on the floor and were standing clapping as we gave them a real display. So naturally we played up to it and the dance got dirtier and dirtier as we went on.

 

 

He bent me back and I writhed beneath him. Twelve years of ballet keeps you supple and my head almost stroked the floor as he buried his head into my breast- the crowd roared its approval.

 

 

He spun me round and I pirouetted on a pivot until he caught me and lifted me up. I arched forward and placed my legs with one foot resting on the other knee- a familiar position to aid the partner's lift. He responded and lifted me higher, I straightened and slithered down his body to swing beneath his legs as he twisted my arms and then dragged me up to rake his hands down my body before we stepped back into the rhythm of the chorus. It was sensuous and body warming stuff.

 

 

I felt hot and my hair was falling about my face as I strutted and twisted; he seemed to meet my every move and I found myself staring into his eyes as if we were transmitting the code of the dance to each other. We sang the words softly as we moved; the trite lyrics took on a hypnotic significance.

 

 

Finally we fell into the final pose; our hands joined above our heads and our bodies close. As the music crescendoed he dropped my hands and pulled my butt against him; I slipped slightly down so that he was leaning over me and my right leg was thrust between his. We stopped, breathing heavily and stared at each other. I felt his hands curl around my soft cheeks and my arms cling to his neck. I imagined kissing him and knew instinctively the same thought had crossed his mind.

With a blinding flash, I suddenly came back to myself and realised with horror where I was and what I had been doing. We sprang apart as if we had been electrocuted. Others around the floor merely seemed amused by our display; the children were clapping gleefully and Lily came running over and shouting. "Mama dance! Again ! Unca Terry- again!" But we shook our heads and backed off. I knew I was blushing and tried to hide my embarrassment by picking her up and fussing with her hair. Terry stood around with his hands in his pockets and seemed unusually bashful. We didn't make eye contact when we thanked each other for the dance.

As I walked back to my seat, I suddenly saw Isobel watching me. She smiled over and raised her eyebrows as if to say, 'I told you so.' My blush deepened to think that I had made my crush so evident. Back at the table, I was surprised to find that Maximus wasn't there. Dino and Heather had been watching me and Terry walk over and I read surprise in their expressions. I was rather relieved that Ann appeared not to have returned and Maximus had taken himself off somewhere.

"Looks like you two worked up quite a sweat out there. Not seen you dance quite like that for a long time, hermano," Dino said to Terry, but there was a hint of warning in his voice. I saw Terry's face set and his chin rise. He didn't like the comment- I think because he knew it was deserved.

"Anyone seen my husband?" I asked for something to say to break the atmosphere. Lily was already restless and wriggled off my knee to run back to the other children. Heather pointed to the far corner of the room.

"I think he's working up a sweat of his own over there."

With a sudden start, I realised that Maximus was on the floor with Ann. They were in a corner and the music playing was now a much slower tempo -but nonetheless my husband was cheek-to-cheek with her and she was grinding against him for all she was worth. The track was "Sexual Healing," no less, and you can imagine how much mileage she was getting out of that. Let's face it you don't have to know how to dance to do that one. Just as long as you can fuck. And that's one horizontal dance that Maximus has absolutely no problem with.

OK- maybe I am irrational- so sue me, I'm a woman. I know I had just been dirty dancing with another man- but hell, that was only because wild horses can't drag my husband onto a dance floor. Wild horses might have no success but Ann bloody Thorne seemed to have some sort of knack. He was laughing and whispering something to her, putting on that boyish grin he has when he is at his most charming; she was smiling up at him and loving every minute. I saw her put her arms round his waist and writhe into his groin then he gripped her shoulders and pulled her against him, his hands running down her arms sensuously. Boy, was he a quick learner.

"Excuse me..." I muttered and got up from the table, storming over to the bar. He was too much. It felt like a slap in the face. He knew I didn't like her. He knew I had wanted to dance all evening. How come he can say no to me but she waves her little butt at him and he is up and running?

"Get me a double Scotch," I demanded of the bartender. Lachlan Curry was leaning on the bar next to me with a pint.

"You certainly lit up the dance floor a storm with Terry. Didn't know he had it in him."

I put my elbows on the bar top and leaned back, my left foot, stroking the wooden panels. Looking over at my husband and then at Lachlan, I grinned. "Well, didn't know I had it in me, either. You couldn't spare me a cigarette could you...?"

He offered me his packet and gallantly lit one for me, his hand cupping - I touched his wrist to steady myself and enjoyed the sensation of proximity to another man. Upright again I leaned back on my perch and saw Maximus watching me over her shoulder. I inhaled deeply, blew smoke out in his direction and took a swig of the Scotch. Then I put my arm on Lachlan's shoulder and moved closer to talk to him. I could see Maximus's eyes narrow but his face registered nothing. I was in no doubt, however, that we were in for quite a scene later.

 

 

July 2001- February 2002

The pregnancy was a text book affair which took me by surprise somewhat. I could hardly believe that my body could get things right. But apparently it seemed to know what it was doing and followed the required stages like clockwork.

First trimester- nausea, dizzy spells, loss of appetite, pica, need to sleep all the time, loss of libido. Second trimester- suddenly feel glowing, loads of energy, great appetite, want sex all the time, begin to grow this whole new body. Third trimester- fat, tired, feel frumpy, scared of delivery, bored with waiting and your husband can't leave you alone. The last one refers to Maximus- it wasn't in the text books. It covers everything.

 

"I don't want you driving. I don't want you on the tube- you will catch something from someone. Don't walk about too much. Is swimming safe? Those shoes are too high for you. Don't reach up for things. Don't lift anything ....

 

And:

 

"You are glorious. Your body excites me. It is so ripe and fecund. May I make love to you? Are you sure it will do no harm? You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Look at him kick! I am sure that was a hand! Let me hold you? Should I rub your back...?

 

In short, he drove me to distraction but I loved him all the more for it. We spent hours just curled up on the couch with his hands on my belly and our child between us. I knew he was almost unable to stand the waiting for the time his child would be born and yet I could also see the unspoken fear in his eyes. No manner of explanation on the safety of modern childbirth can quite take from his the natural fear he has of this dangerous time in a woman's life. For him it is ripe with anxiety for both the mother and child and as much to be feared as the dangers of battle. If he could have spared me it, he would have done.

I tried to ease his concerns by making him read books, watch videos, attend birthing classes but he backed off. My brave and noble hero was squeamish about many of the details and seemed unwilling to be informed. It was not seemly to him for a man to see such things, not auspicious for him to be present and I could not shake the superstition so deeply ingrained in him.

 

 

Sex was a problem at first. Maximus just wouldn't. From the beginning he just said- "No, it is dangerous. We must show forbearance." I told him I was not going nine months without sex. Maximus replied, "Nine months? Until the baby is weaned, surely?"

I almost fainted. I made him attend the first antenatal appointment with me. He was horrified that I had to allow a male doctor to give me an internal and he stood by my side clenching his fists in a most threatening way throughout, but I did get my question in.

"Excuse me, doctor- but may I ask about sex?"

Maximus coughed. I proceeded. "Is it contraindicated, doctor?"

The doctor answered as sweet as a dream. "Of course not- there is nothing to suggest that you shouldn't both share a full and active sex life."

I thought Maximus was about to spontaneously combust.

Later: 

"How dare you discuss our private life with a young doctor!"

"Well, if I hadn't you wouldn't have touched me for years and I am NOT standing for that!"

"What makes you think I shall take any notice?"

"Your dick. If you think it's safe you will not be able to stop yourself."

"You think so?"

"I know so!"

The war of attrition lasted a couple of hours after we got home. I cried. He apologized and we went to bed. He didn't catch my smirk.

Once he got over that little obsession of his, things settled down a lot. In fact once I stopped throwing up, we felt extremely sexy and had some very erotic moments. Of course as I started to grow, we had to think of new positions, but Maximus was quite inventive, thankfully.

Dark of night, a low lamp by the bedside casts a shadow across the white sheets. I lie naked on my back. He takes my ankles and raises my legs gently but assertively to bare my sex. I rest the soles of my feet on his chest and he bends my knees to open me to his access. I slip a foot over his shoulder and grip his neck as I flex. He pushes in slowly, holding my wrists softly. Hilted, his groin pressed against me, I lie and writhe, using my feet to stroke his chest, his shoulders, my swollen belly unaffected by his attentions and able to look deep inside his eyes as he thrusts slowly and deeply. I tighten, he pushes and I feel the moment when his thick cock stimulates my tender places. It is exquisite and it is not inhibited by my state. He can watch and wonder at my ripe body, take his pleasure and I am still afforded love that makes me weep for its wild intensity and its beautiful tenderness...

I worked until thirty-two weeks although we had quite a few rows about that one. He had wanted me to stop work from the outset- I told him that was absurd and I simply wouldn't do it; I needed something to occupy me through the long months of waiting. I also pointed out that I was on a contract and couldn't simply leave work like that. I would fulfill my term and take maximum maternity leave- and while he was at it- what about paternity leave for him? All government departments allowed it nowadays. He nearly had a heart attack at that. A man take leave when his child is born? What on earth for? How could he possibly be of any use at home at such a time? Sometimes I simply shut my ears and ignored his rantings- he largely comes round to my way of thinking eventually.

My colleagues were delighted and gave me a good send off. Roger Curtin was delighted- he got my job 'in absentia'. I warned him "I'll be back, Rog..." How wrong I was.

I was just over four weeks away from delivery and Maximus was flying that day to Belfast with the Defence Secretary for a summit talks. He would be gone for forty eight hours and had arranged for my parents to stay. The plan was we would go shopping in central London for the last minute things now that the nursery was ready. I had very few baby clothes - didn't even know really what babies even needed- so Mum, veteran of several grandchildren already- was about to step into the breach. Max said- spend what you like. That was never really in any doubt, was it?

He was ready to leave. I suddenly wanted him to stay. We embraced in the hallway and I clung on to him. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

I nodded but suddenly didn't feel so good. He extricated himself and picked up his case. Reaching down, he kissed me softly on the mouth and smiled. "Enjoy your shopping trip. Take care." And he was gone.

My Mum and Dad thought I was just a bit over-emotional. Mum kept saying in a dreamy fashion, "Awwwww ...he loves you so much....the way he kissed you in the hallway...." I said I felt a bit off. Dad said a walk would do me good. We went to the shops. Deep into babygros in Petit Bebe I suddenly got this pain. Mum said it was probably indigestion. At the tills, I had a strange sensation, then found myself standing in a puddle. My waters had broken. All hell was about to break loose.

An hour and a half later, I was in the hospital trying to breath, hold my legs together and explain to some prat on the other end of my phone that I had to get in touch with my husband; his phone was switched off but this was an emergency.

"I am sorry but it is impossible to break into a meeting of this high level. May I take a message?"

"YES...I am in labour and if he doesn't get his arse back here immediately he will miss everything..."

"In labour? Having a baby? I will see what I can do, Mrs. North..."

But it was hopeless. Our baby was on it way and its father wasn't. By late evening I could not hold out and with my mother holding my hand and my father pacing in the waiting room, I gave birth to our child. The nurse handed her to me, a little red bundle with a fuzz of dark hair. "Your daughter...she is beautiful..."

I cried. I loved her intensely already but I still felt a sense of failure. She was not the son he wanted.

It was late in the evening when the door burst open and Maximus charged in, a nurse behind him trying to explain that I was resting.

"Max!" I burst into tears.

"Uma!" He rushed to my bed and held my hand. His eyes drifted to the tiny child wrapped up in the cot by my side.

"My son?" he muttered, his eyes moist. Tears ran down my face.

"I am so sorry...I tried..." I stammered.

Maximus looked bemused. "Is something wrong with the child?"

"It is a daughter," I whispered.

His face relaxed and a broad smile broke the stern expression. "A daughter? The child is female? We have a little girl?"

I nodded.

"Why are you crying? Why are you upset? Was it very difficult? I should have been here..."

My bottom lip trembled. "I wanted to give you a son..."

Suddenly he realized my reason for sadness. "You think I would be angry? What kind of man do you think I am? We have a beautiful healthy child. I am overjoyed. Uma, it doesn't matter - boy or girl...you are well and the child is perfect. What more can any man hope for? A girl? Now I have two beautiful women in my life...how can I ever repay you for all you have given me?"

One look in his eyes said it all. My tears of sorrow turned to tears of happiness. He picked up the little bundle and held her gingerly. Sitting on the bed, we looked at her and tried to work out if she favoured either of us. We decided no- she was far too lovely. And we both cried. She had come early, she had surprised us all, she was tiny, but we had done what we had set out to do. We were three now.

"What shall we call her?" Maximus mused as he walked around, cradling her in his strong arms- she was so small in comparison. I thought of how he had once lain, a whisper from death on the sandy floor of the Colosseum and marveled at how her life should not be possible - and yet it was.

"You are her father. It is your right to name her," I replied softly.

He frowned. "And call her 'Maxima' as my people would have done? You want your daughter called "Big Girl?"

I laughed. "Then use your imagination! But I wish for you to name her. It is your prerogative and I will abide by whatever you think fit."

"Why?" he asked me, curious now.

"Because I love you. Because I trust you. Because she is your line." He nodded.

"Give me until tomorrow and then I will have her name." And he gave her to my arms while I placed her at my nipple. She suckled and I began to know what bond a child makes on us even with its slightest movement.

The next morning he arrived bearing an enormous bouquet of flowers and a broad smile. Seems he and my Dad had spent half of the night drinking, he had a bad head but felt wonderful- only a man could actually enjoy a hangover. Dad was sleeping it off, Mum was out frantically trying to purchase all the things I didn't have- so we had some time alone. I sat and watched him as he played with his child. A nurse arranged the flowers.

"I have thought of a name," he suddenly announced, clearly pleased with himself. I gave him a look.

"Should I be worried?" I smiled.

He grinned. "I was thinking a lot about it. Couldn't make my mind up and then I was in a florist's shop. There was a poster- it was about the meaning of flowers. I never knew they had meanings. So I read it and I chose the flowers."

I looked at the beautiful white lilies that he had brought; I had wondered why he had chosen them not roses. "So...what do lilies mean? Enlighten me, oh world's most unlikely expert on the meaning of flowers!"

Another grin and his bashful expression. "Lilies mean purity. Virginity. You have given me a virgo, a tiny maiden joins our family. She is like the flowers. Pure, white, virginal, perfect. It occurred to me to call her that. Lilia. Lilia Meridia. What do you think?"

I gasped. What a beautiful name! Its meaning was also lovely- Midday Lilies. How charming. His family remembered, too. A symbol for him of a maiden in his line. A perfectly acceptable modern name.

"Lily. It is her name! It is so right for her. I love it. I totally love it! Maximus- that was absolutely inspired. How clever- I never expected that at all!"

He smiled at me and then down at her. Then all at once he stood up, carried her to the centre of the room, lowered her gently to the floor and placed her at his feet. For a moment he left her there helpless and then he raised her in his arms to hold her above his head. "I, Maximus Decimus Meridius of Trujillo in the north of the province of Hispania, former general of the armies of the North, now aide to the  security office of the Premier of the United Kingdom, husband of Ummidia, acknowledge this child as my daughter and vow to raise her as the second born of my line. To the Lares and Penates of my family, I dedicate this new arrival. Lilia Meridia- I welcome you- and ask the great Mother to hold you in her care all the days of your life... "

I had never actually heard the lines of the formal raising up of a new born Roman child and its dedication before. I doubt if the actual form is even extant anywhere today. To think these Latin words have never been heard in fifteen hundred years or more in these islands. It was a profoundly moving moment. I was even more touched when Maximus brought her to me and said "What must we do in your belief to welcome her? I will accept anything you suggest. My ritual ignores the mother completely. A mother had no rights even to her own child. That is wrong. I see that now."

I touched his face and then my little daughter's. "I have no fear of you. I need no ritual to tell me she is ours and welcome. Let your way be enough. A birth certificate is required by law but I don't need anything else. Hello, Lily Meridia. I'm your Mum and this is your Dad. Welcome home."

 

*

 

We took her home and somehow muddled through without damaging our precious cargo. Can you imagine the pair of us? Maximus hardly knew to which end of the baby to attach the diaper and I was little better. Fortunately my wonderful parents came to stay and helped us over the early days when I spent most of my time crying, my nipples cracked and bleeding; Lily wouldn't sleep, screamed night and day and Maximus just looked on helplessly.

Mum was brilliant but completely off her head about Lily. I have never seen a grandmother fall in love with a child quite so desperately- my Dad wasn't much better. If she cried, Mum was there any hour of the day or night. Which was occasionally a problem. One night Lily woke and began to squeak. Maximus threw back the covers to get her for me as I was so exhausted. So there he was, stark naked, in the middle of the bedroom and in ran Mum, snapped on the light and grabbed Lily.

"Mum!" I shouted.

"I'm not looking," she replied, giving him the once over and blushing. Max snatched up a baby blanket and tried to cover himself; I jumped out of bed and took the baby from her.

"Go to bed!"

"I was only..."

"This is our bedroom, Mum!" I hissed. "We could have been having sex!"

Mum snorted and whispered "He'll be lucky if he ever gets it again with a baby like Lily. You were like that- woke up every time Dad got frisky..."

"Mum, I do not want to hear this..."

"...Anyway it's too soon...you haven't, have you? What about your stitches?" Mum mouthed as I settled back against a nest of pillows with Lily at my breast.

"MUM! Of course we haven't...it's none of your business anyway..."

"Bet, he's horny though...he's a very big man isn't he, Uma...?"

"Mum- do not say another word...!"

"I was only wondering..."

"MUM!"

Meanwhile Max had found some jeans and dressed in the bathroom. He was hanging about like a spare part. "Can I get anyone a drink?" he muttered, scratching his head in bemusement.

Next minute, Dad opened the door and carried in a tray of tea. It was three o' clock in the morning. Max just took one look and left the room- I think he slept downstairs on the couch. I gave up trying to reason with them. Extended families, hey, Max, almost as good as your day. Later, when we laughed about it, he told me that he hadn't slept again with Serena until his son was ten months' old- her mother absolutely forbade it and slept with her for much of the time, just in case he might be too hasty. He was also rarely tolerated in the nursery except for brief periods every day. His father-in-law had said to him, "Find a pretty slave girl for the next few months to keep your mind off it."

"Did you?" I asked astonished.

He shook his head. "Serena would have killed me," he laughed. "Women were still women, you know. Anyway she took to taking walks for her health. So did I. During the siesta time," he grinned, raising his eyebrows saucily. I clapped my hands with glee.

"I think I would have liked Serena," I added softly.

"I think you would probably have hated each other," he replied smugly. I suspect he was right.

 

*

 

But life settled down - and rather quicker than I anticipated. I discovered a skill with my daughter and realized that my first feelings that she didn't like me much were probably unfounded. Maximus was back in the swing of work and keeping his usual unsocial hours. My parents visited once a week but I was largely alone. It didn't bother me at first. I was besotted with Lily. I adored the long quiet days we spent together and the walks in the park. I can't explain how it made me feel. I could spend hours just looking at her or nursing her and never feel bored or frustrated.

She was a poor sleeper - but you get used to that. Maximus soon learnt to roll over and sleep on, his arm round both of us but largely insensible to the disturbance while I learnt to wake, feed, change and slip her back in record time, before falling immediately back to sleep again. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months and the time for me to go back to work loomed. I tried to push the thought from my mind, knowing full well that I did not want to go back. The very thought of dropping her at a childcare nursery or even employing a nanny simply did not work for me.

I steeled myself for the inevitable but, as the day drew near, I knew I couldn't leave her. She was not even three months' old, it was early May and the weather was shaping to be glorious. I wanted so much to spend the summer with her and not miss the long days together. Little babies grow so fast- I did not wish for someone else to witness the milestones in her life before I did. Finally I told Maximus my feelings.

"Max...I don't want to leave her...I don't want to go back to work."

He was reading the newspaper and put it down slowly. His face showed little emotion; he cocked his head to the side.

"We don't need the money. I earn enough for all of us. You know my feelings, Uma...but...I will not enforce this on you. It must be your choice."

I nodded. "She's so tiny...I can't bear to let someone else look after her...maybe when she's a little older...old enough to understand? I don't want never to work again. I have spent so many years learning and building up my career...can you understand what it means to me?" I asked.

Maximus extended a hand and stroked my neck. "I am not an unreasonable man. I know what sacrifices must be made for a career. But, I also know the cost of putting anything before your family. I made the mistake long ago. I want you and my daughter to be together as is fitting for a mother and child. I will provide what you both need in life. I will protect you both. One day when you are freer, go back to your career and know that you have done the right thing- even if you have had to make a difficult choice. But life is always about choices, isn't it? We never have the perfect answer but must accept the best we can salvage from it all."

I curled up on his lap and thought on his words. He had come a long way and maybe so had I, too. Whatever sacrifices he made, I had to make them as well - but we came first. The three of us were all that really mattered in the world. His lips came down to kiss me and I lay back basking in his love and care. I heard his suggestion whispered in my ear- it was extremely crude - and his eyes flashed; I felt like his mistress again, not the mother of his child. Sometimes a man and woman need to remember where it all began.

But Lily had other ideas. She waited until we were almost too far along the road to stop and then woke with one of her wailing yells. I told Max, "Ignore her...fuck me...fuck me..." - we were way past lucid expression. But her cries intensified; he cannot bear to hear her cry. With a grunt he pulled out of me and fell back, grimacing and clutching himself.

"Go to her!" he growled through gritted teeth.

I staggered from my knees and searched for something to wear. Clad in his shirt, I skittered upstairs, my knees still shaking and the sick ache of unfulfilled desire in my loins. I grabbed her, flopped into the rocking chair and gave her my breast, she snaffled miserably, biting in temper. Slowly she settled and began to feed and I relaxed, closing my eyes and letting the rhythm of the chair and her regular sucking lull me back from the frenzy I had been in.

I looked up and saw Maximus standing at the nursery door, wearing his pants still half fastened, and watching us with a half smile on his face.

"You OK?" I asked him. He pulled a face. I smiled. "Blue balls? Maybe you should go and relieve the pressure?" I suggested.

He gave me his disapproving look but I could see the mischief in his eyes. "Not at all. Settle my daughter and do not delay. I have a task for you when she is down. A husband has his rights, you know?" I picked up a cushion and tossed it at him; he caught it deftly, laughing.

"It's a good job I love you, you cocky bastard...now pass me a diaper and get the cleanser...I've got a job here that you were born for..."

He groaned and shook his head..."Do you know that I once commanded thirty thousand men who hardly dared raise their eyes to meet mine?"

I raised my eyes. "There wasn't a woman there though, was there?...Here the roles are reversed, general. One man commanded by two women. Now you can see to her bottom and then...you can come and see to mine. And be quick about it..."

 

*

 

Lily was a quick child- crawled early, walking by ten months, able to manage quite a few words by the time she was one. We kept her cradle in our room as long as we could even though the childcare books - and my Mum- insisted that she would get spoiled and interfere with our lives.

My Mum has these great euphemisms. For sex she says... 'relations' with a knowing expression. For no sex she says 'he won't be too happy in that department'. For Lily waking up and putting us off our stride she would say 'interfere with your married lives.'

But, of course, she doesn't know Maximus. As far as he was concerned children slept with their parents anyway until the next one came along. It didn't bother him if we had a little nine-month old jumping up and down in her cot, gurgling and clapping while he was in the throes of passion. I, however, found the audience somewhat daunting.

Maximus is a man with staying power- I am sure that goes without saying. He is pretty formidable at any time of the day or night but early mornings, refreshed after a deep sleep, he is something else. Imagine, if you will, Max waking up with a rather impressive wooden sword (gives a whole new slant to the word rudius, doesn't it?) and the subsequent deep and searching drill he gives it. So there we would be rolling about groaning and moaning and up pops the little darling with a "Dada!" It would take her a while to see that I was there- well, there is a lot of him and I suppose I was rather hidden under his bulk. The she would hear me or see me and shout "Mama!"

"Max...she's watching again!"

"Ignore....her...doesn't understand...."

"Max....I can't do this with her watching..."

"And I can't stop....stay there...tighten...yes....ungghhhhhhhhhhh...."

While he drew out and threw himself onto his back, I would have to jump up, wash, dress, pick her up, change her - and still be waiting for the elusive orgasm that her oh so opportune appearance had made it impossible for me to achieve. He, of course, would just lie there and grin lazily while I plonked her in bed with him and she crawled over him.

He has absolutely no problem with her hanging off him anytime. Considering he is so inhibited emotionally in public, I was surprised how affectionate he has always been with her. He holds her and she dances up and down on him, climbs on his back, dangles from his legs, pulls at his face, ruffles up his clothes, bounces rather alarmingly on his groin and even grabs his dick and tried to play with it- he just laughs and takes little notice. It is a curious easiness with children behind the walls of the family home which must have been a Roman thing- Maximus says daughters were always indulged by fathers and completely spoiled. I don't think they thought it mattered. They treated their boys so harshly, regularly beating them and never showing much emotion in order to train them to be tough and obedient, disciplined and dutiful. Girls would be married by thirteen and someone else's problem. So why bother to expend energy in training them? What a strange and novel notion!

But in public he expected her to behave and she somehow did- surprising most people with her innate composure and proper manners. Lily was actually so much more like Maximus than me in her personality - which amused him no end. I teased that should we ever have this son of his he would probably be into fashion, dance and poetry like his Mum. You can imagine the look he gave to that suggestion.

Significant events came and went in our strange little world but I had little part in them. Maximus took a trip to the States when Lily was a few weeks' old- something to do with one of his 'Brothers' getting married but I didn't take much notice of it. Another incident took him across the pond last summer, too - Bud's wife had a problem of some sort that he was helping to resolve. I know I should have paid more attention but, I didn't know these people, and they barely touched my perfect little world.

I wonder now if I wasn't purposely wearing blinkers? Did I fear the actual reality of Terra Nova? Did I wish to blank out from my mind that something stranger than strange had brought us into being? Can anyone really blame me for shunning the truth of what we had to face?

But it wasn't quite as simple as that. I let a lot of my friendships go those years because it was so hard to be honest. We of us who existed in Terra Nova simply couldn't take a chance on our secret getting out, so it meant that we had to be very careful what we said to whom. I was also married and fairly housebound, choosing to be at my husband's beck and call and I know my close friends thought I had sold out. Partly they were jealous, I know, that I had met the man who seemed to be the answer that we had all be searching for but also annoyed at me for assuming a traditional role as wife and mother instead of entering into some more modern style of marriage. I tried to explain that you can't have it both ways but they didn't understand me and thought I had turned into some sort of middle class home maker. In the end I got sick of trying to explain and just saw them very rarely.

I was pretty cut off, I suppose, but didn't recognize it for a long time. But babies don't stay babies forever and Lily was growing fast. She wanted to play with other children and socialize- but I found little in common with most of the local mothers. I knew in time she would need kindergarten and then what would I have? It was time to think about my career again -go back to work even if it was only part time or flexible hours. Maximus, as you can imagine, saw it differently. I was unoccupied so it was time to have another child. A son.

He kept saying that, 'we shall have a son', as if it was a guaranteed thing, when I knew that Sod's law would make it highly unlikely things fell into such a neat little pattern for him. Anyway, I was also irritated by the whole gender issue as most woman of my era would be. OK, if I were honest I would love to be the mother of a son. But, I balked at some kind of implication that the son was the real class act of procreation which seemed to lie at the heart of his constant references.

Looking back, I think it was really a combination of factors that made me so stubborn. In everything else in our married life, I hadn't made much objection. You know me, I shout a lot and throw a few tantrums and Maximus hangs in there and usually keeps calm until I have got myself all upset and then he talks me round. Or he just looks wounded and noble and I feel like a shit. But somehow I had a real problem with the son issue and about returning to work , dug in my heels in a way that I have rarely done with him, and we just went round in circles for months.

We weren't arguing all the time- don't get me wrong- most of the time, life was good and we were happy. Lily continued to be a delight- we adored her so much and her presence in our lives was a constant source of joy. And we loved each other. Sex was great, we shared a close friendship and our time together was wonderful- quieter, less wild and intense than the early days, but isn't that what happens to every one? I still couldn't imagine any man alive- or dead- who could make me feel like he did and he showed no signs of tiring of me, either.

But there were cracks and we picked at the sores perhaps more than we ought to have done. However, it was a strong marriage and would survive the occasional outburst. We both knew that.

 

 

January 17th 2004

Maximus ignored me after his initial response; I stared him out, smoked my cigarette belligerently and knocked back the large Scotch.. We both carried on playing our stupid game of calling the other's bluff until Terry Thorne stepped over and cut in, swinging his wife away and leaving Maximus standing alone on the edge of the dance floor. He looked at me, his head slightly lowered, his face still and expressionless. His eyes were dark and obscured.

I tossed my head and looked away like a truculent teenager, dragging deeper on my cigarette. At that, he walked across the distance between us slowly but pointedly - anyone watching would have known trouble was at hand. It was like High bloody Noon.

Reaching the bar, he rested on it next to me and leaned in towards me. His hand gripped my wrist. "Outside. Now!" he commanded in a low growl.

I tutted. He jerked slightly on my wrist forcing me to extinguish the cigarette in a glass ash tray on the bar top. "Walk yourself or I swear I shall drag you out before all these people. Is that what you want me to do?" I knew he meant it. Maximus' might be disinclined to public exhibitions of our dirty linen in general but if he is angry enough he frankly doesn't give a shit. And anyway, who would look the fool? In this macho set up, the blokes would have laughed into their pints and probably been impressed and the women no doubt would think I deserved it. So I slunk off the bar and walked boldly ahead of him out of the room.

In the quiet hallway, he took my arm and dragged me into the small antechamber where Isobel had dressed earlier in the day. He slammed the door shut behind us. I opened my mouth to object but he was on me before I could say a thing. Pushing me against the door, he took my hands and held them fast- and forced his lips onto mine, kissing me deeply with a bruising force. I felt the soft velvet of his beard rake against my tender skin, his tongue ravage my mouth and his knee jam between my legs to massage my sex.

I was held fast, unable to move and completely taken by surprise. But that is Maximus- who ever knows what exactly is going on in his head? At last he pulled away and buried his head in my neck dropping one hand to run it up my leg and slip beneath the silk of my underwear to touch me.

"Max...Max..."I gasped.

"I want you...NOW..."he grunted out.

"Stop...please...not here...there are people all around...what's got into you?" I tried to push him away.

"You don't want me?" He stopped and looked up, a wild desperate look on his face.

"Want you? Of course I want you...but I'm scared someone will see us..."

He snorted and simply pulled my dress up to my waist and tore down my panties. I moaned at his action, took his head in my hands and kissed him as lewdly as he had just kissed me. He lifted me against the door and I unzipped his pants. He was so hard and hot that I felt as though I might singe my palm as I laved him in my wetness. He groaned and pushed fast; my head hit the door with the sudden impetus.

It was totally wild and complete and utter madness. I could hear voices outside the door, children running about, our own daughter was somewhere there probably looking for us- but it only heightened the complete and utter abandon of what we did. He fucked me like a whore against that door until I came, biting into his shoulder to stop from screaming out and then he dropped me to slither down his body where I knelt to bring him off while he grunted like a bear in pain. Finally we both fell to the ground, half naked and sweating, shocked and still dripping with each other.

He sat up and attempted to re-dress, I scrabbled around looking for my knickers - God knows where he had thrown them. Finding them, I hopped from leg to leg to get them on, used a discarded box of tissues to mop up the damage, raked through Isobel's makeup for something to repair my face and squirted her perfume liberally around.

And then I joined Maximus, who was by now standing and staring out of the sash window into the bleak February evening. "What was that all about?" I asked quietly

He shrugged and turned to face me. "We had sex," he replied, rather unnecessarily.

"Yes, we certainly did. Are you angry with me, Maximus?"

He gave me a wry look. "No more than you are with me, I'll warrant."

I gave him a coy look. "Well, you wouldn't dance with me...but you were all over her...I thought you were going to fuck her out there on the dance floor..."

"What complete nonsense! She asked me to dance and, of course, it was impossible to say no. I didn't want to dance. That's why I don't dance with you. I can say no to you- you are my wife. But may I point out that the only couple anywhere near consummating the dance today were you and Terry Thorne..."

"So you are angry with me?" I retorted.

"No...I asked him to take you on the floor. He's a good dancer. My mistake. However, I will admit to some jealousy. I didn't like watching him touch you," he hunched his shoulders and made a face; it was rather boyish and embarrassed. It made me smile.

"So you dragged me in here to stake your claim, hey?" I pouted back.

He gave a grunt of frustration. "No! I watched you posture like a whore looking for a client at the bar at the sight of me and another woman doing absolutely nothing at all. And it made me want you. Do you know why?" He put his mouth close to my ear and pulled my body close. "Because I knew then that you were jealous, too. You might have enjoyed a sexy dance with an attractive man but he means nothing to you...one look at me in the arms of another woman and you were apoplectic with rage and let everyone in the room see how irrational you were. They saw you simmer and stalk like a tigress about to strike. I found that very arousing. Now, what is your excuse?"

His words were whispered softly; I felt my knees sag and my body wilt into him. He was so right. A crush on a fit looking guy is one thing but my obsession with my husband is an entirely different animal. He knows me too well- and I know him. We might both play the civilized couple in public but underneath we are something quite different. A primal need locks us to each other and simmers below the surface of our sweet closeness. Tigers, indeed - I rather liked the imagery.

My lips reached out and bit his ear with a growl. He grimaced and laughed, twisting my arm to bring me into him again.

The door burst open... and we spun round, suddenly conscious of the slight disarray of our clothes. It was Darcy Curry. She looked pretty surprised to see anyone there and I saw a blush colour her fair skin. I suppose she had worked out immediately what we had been up to. She seems to be a fairly refined sort of woman- I can't exactly see her getting down on her elegant knees and giving Lachlan a blow in an anteroom- but then she doesn't live with a force of nature like I do.

Maximus reacted first and walked stiffly to the door. "We were just leaving..." He indicated that I should follow him and I stepped towards her. I was aware of Maximus straightening his tie and buttoning up his jacket, as I instinctively pulled at the hem of my skirt and calmed my hair down.

Darcy smiled rather knowingly. "Weddings, hey?" But I detected a slight note of embarrassment in her voice. Then I saw why. Behind her, standing slightly to the side but with his hand resting lightly on her hip, as if he was accustomed to having it there, was Bud White. I had almost to catch my mouth to stop it from falling open.

So I smiled nervously, pretended I had noticed nothing and slipped past him, looking back at Maximus to see if he had noticed. His face was set in a disapproving scowl.  The two men locked eyes. Bud raised his chin and moved to block Max's path. It seemed an unnecessarily aggressive stance, some sort of male thing that both Max and Bud seemed to read without need for words. It wasn't exactly a fight - but Max was definitely warning him- and Bud was showing Maximus exactly how little he cared. Interesting. I saw Max brush past him and they knocked shoulders with some force, in a curiously schoolyard fashion. Maximus then took my arm and hurried me into the hall; I heard the door slam behind me.

"Did you see that? What were they up to?" I whispered with a touch of amusement.

"What are talking about?" He walked forward, appearing either to know nothing or refuse to engage in a discussion. I suspected it was the latter of the two options.

"Darcy Curry and Bud White....what business have they got slipping into side rooms?" I giggled.

Maximus gave me a glance that said it all. "You have a very prurient nature. Don't talk such nonsense. Go and find your daughter." But I knew he was lying- he is so hopeless at it. He had seen it all and he was angry. Storming away from me, he walked back to the main room and left me following in his wake.

Just then, I heard Lily wailing and turned to the sound of her voice. She was with Lachlan, curled up round his neck, crying while he tried to pacify her; his own sons were trailing behind laughing at her performance.

"So that's where you are! Everyone's been looking for you! Lily's been crying...I think she couldn't find you...Here you are, sweetheart...here's your Mommy...." I felt really guilty and smiled apologetically at him.

"I couldn't find you. You was lost!" Lily accused as she reached for me and wrapped her hands around my neck, now, sobbing pitifully for effect - as only my daughter can.  Lachlan stepped back and gave Donny a nudge- the little boy was making fun of Lily behind his back.

"Thanks Lachlan, I shouldn't have left the room...I'm so sorry to bring you out looking for me..."

"No worries, love, I was actually looking for Darce as well. You haven't seen her on your travels, have you?"

I froze and checked the room door- it was closed and I mentally prayed that they stayed inside while Lachlan was in the hallway. "Er...no...I don't think she's in the ladies'...er...maybe she went to her room for something?"

Lachlan looked at me curiously, his usual smile absent. His eyes flickered toward the anteroom - why hadn't I controlled my impulse to glance that way?---before he said coolly, "Yeah...maybe she did, love, ...never thought of that...well if you do see her, be sure to tell her that her family is looking for her, eh? Can you do that for me?"

I blushed, aware that my lie did not appear to have convinced him. "Sure...and thanks for taking care of Lily..."

He gave me a curt nod and turned towards the stairs. It seemed to me he deliberately raised his voice to say, "Come on, lads...let's find your Mom, hey?"....

 

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