Dear Diary,

It had seemed a wonderful idea at the time. 

But unfortunately, like so many things in our lives at the moment, the actual effort of carrying out the things we plan to add some fun and variety to the humdrum daily grind usually completely defeats the object of the whole damn thing. As did our recent Sunday outing.

The past few months have been gruelling. The company has really taken off in a big way recently, which is great, of course, but has only kept Terry away from home more that ever. He has been travelling a lot, even handling a few cases in tandem with some of the new guys they've just taken on. It allows him to leave them in situ on a long protracted negotiation, liaise via vid-con and then fly back and forth to check upon status, give the client the luxury of his hands on experience from time to time - and be there for the final act. It does not, however, give his family much time with him.

I am not on his case all the time about it. I truly understand his position. This life is not to his taste but it is what he does to make a living. He spends a lot of time stuck in hotel rooms far away, making endless guilty phone calls home, worrying that he is letting it all happen again, that two more children are going to grow up thinking their dad is the lodger who sleeps with their mum from time to time. He beats himself up more than ever I could so I don't intend, during the precious times we do have together, to constantly remind him of what he already knows. But it has still been a hard time. Really hard at times.

And then they were four. I better fill you in, dear Diary, as it is actually well over a year since I last got you up to speed. Don't blame me, it's been a busy fifteen months. First there was the three months spent with my head down the toilet, then the three spent trying to move house and then the last three spent when I was too fat to do much but drag my grotesque body around. Worked it out already? Let me remind you where we left off...

"OH."

"MY."

"GOD."

"TERRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Need a translation? Probably not, but I'll fill you in anyway. I had obviously not given the test long enough to work. It must have kicked in after we'd set it down. When I picked it up later, there it was...the thin blue line...we had hit the jackpot again.

Terry almost lost the use of his legs when I screamed. He jumped out of bed, tripped over the bedding and nearly brained himself on the end of the bed. So there was I, crying and mopping up his bleeding scalp with a towel while he wiped my tears and told me it would be alright. I think we both did a bit of blubbing - me very loud and he just slightly moist-eyed.

It had been quite a day.

But that was a long time ago and like everything else in life you adjust, deal and move on.  February 9th this year, little Connor Ewan Thorne came into the world. No Frank...no footballers...we came up with this moniker all on our own. He's absolutely gorgeous. The most perfect boy in the world. Next to his dad, of course.

The birth was surprisingly straightforward this time. He was not early, born on a plane, delivered by his father or anything like that. Terry managed to be at home, asleep on the couch when I woke him with a nudge and told him to go get the bag and drop Maia off at the Curry's. It was as simple as that.  Almost textbook, you might say.

I'm not saying it was an easy delivery - Con weighed in at not far off ten pounds (gee whiz, thanks Terry for those shoulders...) but it was normal. It seemed like the first time in our lives that things had just gone to plan. Connor arrived while Terry held my hand and talked me through it; Maia was brought in the next day and was just so sweet that the whole maternity wing fell in love with her.

She sat on the bed and regaled Lachlan, Terry and Heather - and Tristan who was only interested in whether could Connor play footie yet- with her take on the birth.

"Connor came out of my Mummy's bum. But it didn't hurt him. NOT. ONE. LITTLE. BIT!" she announced at the top of her voice with such authority that it seemed churlish of me to say, 'Well, it bloody nearly killed me, mate...' She is so bossy and sure of herself, standing there with one hand on her hip and giving Terry 'what for' all the time. He just goes all gooey and lets her get away with anything. I adore them both together. She has him wrapped round her little finger - and vice versa.

But nothing quite prepared me for a son. I love my daughter more than life. I do not play favourites - but I 'get' that Oedipus thing now. I look at my little naked son and wonder how this perfect male child came out of my body. And he looks at me with this fierce bond of love that is quite different from anything I have ever known.  Much as Maia looks at her father.

This whole gender thing is so fascinating. Already Maia is aping me, posing before mirrors, asking if she is pretty, twirling around before her daddy showing off her dresses, wanting to be wearing hair clips, necklaces and rings. I am her touchstone and yet she is a little jealous of Terry showing me affection, always climbing between us if he does.

But watching Terry with his son is something beyond wonder. He looks at him almost in disbelief as if he never expected this honour twice in his life. A son. That means something to a man - and there's nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.

What was I talking about? Ah yes...it seemed to be a good idea at the time. Let me explain.  It went something like this....:

"Two men down....we have a result...!" Terry came bowling into the bedroom rubbing his hands in anticipation. He had arrived home that evening after a three week absence and walked in at suppertime. A lesser man would have asked the cab driver to circle around the block for an hour - but we are talking Terry here. The man is a hero. He knows no fear. In he came, afraid of nothing, ready to take on anything.

Maia and Connor obliged and gave him the entire arsenal. Maia, who had been like a wound up toy all day at the news that Daddy was coming home, unwound at a frightening speed. She hared to the door when she heard the key in the lock, launched her little body at him and then clung to him like a little pet monkey for the rest of the evening, wriggling around, bouncing on his knee, hugging him, whispering whatever little secrets she had and totally charming the pants of him. He wouldn't put her down and she wouldn't have let him go for anything.

Connor was less impressed. He was already in a bad mood, grumpy and teething, tired and refusing to give in. He took one look at Terry and burst into tears. That hurt Terry a lot. One thing led to another and eventually we had Connor raising the roof, Maia refusing to have a bath, me losing my rag and Terry trying to pacify us all.

With his usual skills at mollifying, he told me to have a long bath myself and make myself pretty, carried Maia on his back up the stairs while struggling with Connor in his arms and threw them both in a bubble bath. Fortunately Connor adores water and he settled down then. He also stopped crying as soon as I left the room - he does this thing where if I won't nurse him, he goes nuclear. But if he can't see me, he just forgets about it. How like a man.

I have no idea what happened then. The house suddenly went blissfully quiet, clean, sweet-smelling children in pyjamas gurgled happily, Terry tucked Connor in and he miraculously fell asleep without a final chew on my tits - and Maia got her bedtime story read by her favourite K and R man. That is what I presumed was the precursor anyway to the arrival of my favourite K and R man into our bedroom.  My heart did its usual somersault. He's all mine. Who could blame me?

"Two men down....we have a result..." He was already half naked before he had crossed the room, leaving a trail of clothes - unusual for him because he is generally very neat and tidy - and headed for the bathroom. He left the door open - an invitation no doubt - and threw his pants back out into the bedroom.  I left him to his shower. Bathing with Terry is not to be sniffed at but I had just finished drying my hair and moisturizing my skin. These days I am not quite as madly spontaneous as I was back then.

Lying back in the bed, I began to drift, imagining Terry naked in the shower, slipping off into a doze somewhere between languid arousal and utter exhaustion. God, I was so tired! I had been on the go since 5.30 that morning after a particular bad night. Connor had been up and down like a yoyo. It's his gums. They're so sore.

I think I must have gone to sleep for the next thing I knew the mattress was depressed and the bedding yanked away in that way men have. I smelt a mélange of male fragrances: shower gel, shaving cream, aftershave and minty toothpaste even before I felt his cool body wrap round me and his lips press sensuously to the nape of my neck.

"No worries. I'm so horny I don't even care if you're awake..." he muttered as he rubbed himself against my buttocks, his hand already slipping beneath the hem of my short silky nightie and snaking around to stroke the curls and then slide beneath. He sighed with content as he found what he was looking for. "Christ...I've missed this..."

I smiled and leaned lazily into him. "I thought it was me you missed, not my fanny..."

He chuckled sexily into my ear, his voice husky and low. "You aren't gonna catch me with that one. We go back too far... So I think about your cunt a lot when I'm away? I'm your man. I'm allowed to.... I also think about your smile and your eyes and that cute thing Maia does with her tongue... and whether Connor can crawl yet and what the fuck I am missing for no reason that makes any sense to me..."

I'm your man. I liked the sound of that. I liked the certainty of that. He said it without hesitation. He used it as his reason for wanting me all the time. I was not about to go all PC on his arse at a moment like that. And Terry is Terry anyway. What you see is what you get. He is never going to tolerate too much reconstruction. But then, why fix it if it ain't broken?

I sighed and reached back to stroke him. He giggled into my ear. "Tell me you didn't think about my cock while I was away...you are just as bad as me..."

I chuckled. "I thought about it often. When Connor peed in my face. When he peed on the sofa. When he peed on a pile of folded up and ironed clean clothes. That boy can get a trajectory that is unbelievable for his size - and his aim is so perfect he could only be your son.  Then there was the time I found Maia examining it when I put him down on the changing mat after his bath. She was giving it a close inspection and had it in her grip when he threw his leg over and tried to crawl away - at speed..."

"Ewwww..!" Terry winced. "Poor bugger...what happened?"

"He let out a yell that would have woken the dead. I honestly thought she'd pulled it off..."

Terry made a groaning sound. There was real solidarity in that noise. He had been there before.

"...And I spent the day worrying about him. He was very upset and sobbed for ages. Wouldn't let me put him down. I kept checking it wasn't bruised or bleeding or hanging off...so I spent a good deal of the past few days looking at your cock or rather a smaller version with a lot less mileage on the clock..."

"...so far..." he muttered as his hands began wandering around underneath my nightie. I was in danger of losing the capacity for thought. I had forgotten what curling up with a man was like as opposed to a breast-obsessed baby or a little girl who never shuts up. I let him ramble on while I enjoyed the ride. "...there will come a day when he discovers what it's really for and...well, he is my son. We cannot hope for celibacy..."

"No, that would be too much to ask for...Women of the world prepare to be boarded...!"

"You got that right..." he murmured as he turned me over and prepared to do just that, flipping my leg over his hip and slipping along the moist little runway, rocking back and forwards just savouring the feel of it. I dropped my head back and watched him play, my arms massaging his shoulders. It was smooth and sexy and slow love, just getting our groove back, feeling the togetherness. The room was dark, lit only by a small lamp and the bed felt like a little cocoon of pleasure. I could have stayed like that all night.

Until I heard Connor let out a shriek like he was being murdered. I knew what it was. Indignation that his tummy hadn't been filled to overflow before he went to sleep. The child's appetite scares me. It is almost impossible to satiate. Sometimes he looks at me weirdly as if he is contemplating eating me as well. I get these odd notions sometimes. It must be sleep deprivation.

"Christ!" Terry muttered. "Give us a break, Con..."

"Let me go and slip him a tit quick. With any luck a quick feed and change and he'll be back in bed again..."

Terry just slumped back and hit the pillow with his head in frustration. I jumped out of bed, pulled down the slip that was up round my waist and ran towards his room. I passed milady on the way. She was haring into our room, obviously disturbed by her brother's wailing. "He's crying again!" Maia informed me redundantly as she whipped past. "Daddy, he waked me up!" I looked back.

 Terry moaned softly and flipped over onto his front. I cursed under my breath. Another fine erection goes to waste. Thank you so very much, God!

I attended to my son. When I returned Terry and Maia were curled up together fast asleep. So much for a man on a mission. I prised her gently from his grasp and carried her back to her room. She was now like a dead body, oblivious to the world. Quick check on Connor. Another comatose member of the family . The only good Thorne is a sleeping one...

Back in our room, I snuggled up to number three. He just rolled on to his back and started snoring. I see where his children get it from. Should I wake him up, I thought to myself? I thought about the options. Dirty sex with Terry or some unbroken sleep?

I'm the mother of two small children. Was it ever in any doubt...?

Morning dawned and unbelievably we woke up before the children. Or rather Terry woke up and remembered where he'd been the night before and decided to carry on where he'd left off. I was disturbed by him nuzzling against me and his hands wandering to parts that were sadly in need of his attention.

"You awake?"

"Hmmmmmm...beats waking up to Connor screaming..." I murmured. Connor. Why wasn't he awake? It was light outside. "What time is it?"

Terry paused and checked his watch. "Almost six...I've got jetlag..."

"Six? Oh god...is Connor all right?" I pushed Terry away and jumped up. "He never sleeps past five thirty...I have to check he's still breathing..."

"Still breathing?" Terry muttered. "Can't you let sleeping dogs lie for once? There's nothing wrong with him..." But I was already up and out of the door. You read such awful things. Fear regularly grips me that something terrible will happen to my family. It's irrational and neurotic but there you go. I don't know a single woman who doesn't act like me.

I tiptoed into his room. He was lying there awake, just staring at the mobile above his bed. It has little jungle animals on it. He loves it. When he saw my face, he began to laugh, rolled over and scrambled to his knees. Connor is extremely agile for his age and is already pulling himself up against the cot rails and he's only just over six months. That was that. Once he has me in his sights then that's it. Mum was back on duty.

I changed him and carried him back to our room. Terry moaned but sat up and reached for him. Connor was in a better mood than the night before and held his own little arms out to his Dad. I saw Terry's face at that moment. It was worth the lack of sleep and sex just to see how happy he was at his son's acceptance of him. "Come to your old Dad...give your Mum a break, ya little hoon...!"

Maia must have a sixth sense whenever she suspects she is missing out on something because shortly afterwards she was also in our bed and pushing Connor away so she could ride on Daddy. Get in the queue, sister! But as usual, I lost my place in the line. Still, it was pretty wonderful there is the early morning light, all of us tucked up in bed, Connor feeding noisily, Maia chatting thirteen to the dozen, Terry smiling and wrapped around us all. It's so good to have him home.

Please let him stay a while this time.

Later while I was preparing breakfast, I observed to Terry, whose nose was buried in the paper, "Do you think we'll ever have sex again?"

"What's sex, Mum?" Maia chipped in as she was tucking into her Rice Krispies.

I saw the newspaper shake with amusement. The bastard was typically not going to bail me out of this. Quick thinking was required. "I asked Daddy if he wanted eggs again..."

"Me want egg!" she retorted, her mind already thankfully having moved on. Connor just banged a spoon and chewed on a toast soldier. He'd eat anything he could get hold of.

"Ever thought of a career in K and R, love? We need men who can think on their feet..." Terry laughed. "You handled that like a pro..."

"Yeah, while you let me, you coward...You have no idea what skills a mother requires as a negotiator. Eggs?"

"Throw a few rashers of bacon and a couple of sausages on and it's a go. The sex can wait...for now..." he added. I leant over and kissed him beneath the cover of the newspaper, whispering, "I want you so bad...I want to taste you..." Terry groaned soft and low.

"...Stop kissing. It's bisgusting...!" Maia broke in. I rolled my eyes and went to feed my family.

"Hey, why don't you go up town today and buy yourself something nice....? Short, skimpy, low cut and slutty would be my preference. And some shoes to go with it? Very high. Impossibly expensive. Tiny little ankle straps..." Terry must have been desperate if he was actively encouraging me to spend money on clothes, whilst talking himself into a state of arousal. It wasn't hard to see what was on his mind every time he looked at me. "I'll throw the kids into their coats and take them to the park or something. I could do with spending some quality time with my offspring..." he added to complete the perfect moment.

Trouble is, I always think when they give permission, it's like being old enough to buy alcohol. It just isn't as much fun. I also rather suspected he'd have more fun in the park than I would. All day I would feel like I was missing out on something.

"I don't need anything. But the park sounds like a killer idea. Let's get the troops ready to roll. We can have a bite to eat somewhere and give them a good long run. With any luck they'll be so exhausted by bedtime that they'll sleep round the clock and leave us a passion-filled night to look forward to. We can order dinner in and eat it off each other...what do you think?

He liked the idea. Particularly the bit about me not spending any money, I would imagine. So off we went like a normal family with a plastic bag full of stale bread for the duckies, a bag full of assorted slop in jars for Connor, nappies, change of clothes, fruit juice, spare dummy...the usual mountains of things that have to come along wherever we go. Connor moaned about having to go in his pushchair but eventually we managed to secure him; he was happier once Maia jumped in beside him (we have a twin stroller now) although I can imagine she is up and down out of that like a yoyo in her usual fashion. Terry appeared in jeans, a battered old zip up hooded jacket, even older trainers and a beanie. He hadn't shaved. I was already wet.

The weather for once didn't let us down. It wasn't exactly hot or anything, but it was fine and sunny, if a little blustery. But well wrapped up we were all comfortable as we set off down the road, letting on to neighbours and stopping here and there for a chat with other couples. Terry was virtually unknown to most of them, the missing father who is always overseas. It was refreshing to be able to introduce him and prove that he did actually exist.

We made a wide circuit of the park, let Maia run and did our best to keep up with her. She had Terry charging all over the place until he brought out a ball and that kept her in one area for a while. I freed Connor from his bonds and he left him crawling all over the grass, as happy as a pig in muck. It was simply wonderful to sit there with my family all around and just watch them cavorting around and laughing, Terry spending most of the time flat on his back with littlies climbing all over him. He looked so happy. It made a lump come to my throat. Why isn't life always like this?

Later, with Connor fed and dozing in the chair and Maia tucking into a rather unhealthy looking plate of chips dotted with ketchup, we had a cuppa at the café and talked. It seemed months since we had. Actually it was.

"You look tired," he said to me as I stirred the milk into the tea.

"Gee, thanks," I answered with a grin. "You mean, I look rough?"

He smiled and shook his head. "You never look rough. But you do look tired..."

"That's 'cos I am. I'm permanently tired. It's hard work. They're hard work. Nonstop and a lot of it is pretty mindless drudgery. Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I'm just admitting it. We both work hard. Too hard. Not enough time for each other...remember how it was?" I sucked on the teaspoon and rolled my eyes.

Terry slid his hand across the table. "I don't have to remember. It still is. I don't feel any differently. Only probably more so. You gave me these two children. You take care of my life. You make it possible for me to go and do what I do and know that you will still be there keeping them all safe when I return. How could that not be better?"

He still has that way of sometimes saying the most incredibly heartfelt and romantic sentiments that sweep me away. I blushed. He chuckled.

"God, I'm horny though...Even dressed in those baggy sweats you're making my blood surge..." he muttered. I looked down at myself. I should have made more effort this morning. But then, if he was only just managing to restrain himself as it was, what did I have to worry about?

I sipped the tea and listened to Maia chattering on for a while. She climbed down from her chair and scrambled up onto his knee, dragging his face to hers, so that she could whisper in his ear. Those two have so many secrets. He listened gravely, nodding his head. I adore them together.

"Daddy, your face is scratchy..." she told him as she rubbed her cheek against his bristles.

"I know, sweetheart. I'll shave it off later..." he smiled down at her.

"No shave!" she commanded. "I like your itchy face..."and she buried herself against it, shuddering with the sensation.

I laughed broadly. "Good God, she's starting young, hey?" Terry shook his head at the thought of what this little madam would put him through in a few years' time.

But she was off again in no time. A small girl on the next table had shyly come over and the two of them were eyeing each other up in that toddler prelude to making friends. It kept her occupied while we chatted on.

"You know when you're away..." I began.

"Yeah...?" he answered with that noncommittal voice of his which was purposely readying itself to go into evasive mode.

"...when you hang out with the other boys in the team...on your nights' off..."

"We don't have nights off. It isn't shift work, love..."he replied smartly.

"You know what I mean. I've seen your film. You go and get pissed in the evenings when you've put the client to bed...and I meant that figuratively, of course..."

"Of course..." he answered smarmily but did not make it any easier for me.

"I mean, you go to clubs and bars with them, don't you?"

"Yeah...sometimes...not often, but yeah, on the odd occasion..." It was like pulling teeth.

"Most of them are single, aren't they?"

"Some of them. Some are married. Some with girlfriends..."

"Right...nice and vague, Terry. Ten out of ten so far...."

He grinned and stuck his tongue out. "Well, go on then, Mata Hari...continue with the grilling..." The smart arse knew exactly where I was heading as usual. But he wasn't giving it up easily.

"Look, I know most of the lads go out looking for a bit of relief therapy. And getting it. I was just wondering if you were ever tempted to...you know? Or if it put you in an awkward position if, say, some bar girl took a fancy to you, as she easily could, you being so studly and all..."

"It's never awkward, Tink...Flirting comes naturally to me..." he smiled back smugly.

"Terry! Answer the damn question!" I exclaimed.

"I would if I knew what it was. What do you want me to say? Yeah, I had a bit? Like I'd admit to it if I had? But before you spontaneously combust...I am often tempted. There are a lot of desirable women in this world. And they get even more desirable after a few beers and a long abstinence, I can assure you. But, baby, you're my girl. Why do you think I can hardly pull my jeans on over my erection when I'm with you? Partly it's because you're so gorgeous, of course, but it's also because I have gone without for so bloody long, I even found old Mrs. Fisher in the greengrocer's a turn on with her earth stained hands and her surgical stockings...when she bent down to pick out some Golden Delicious for me..." he groaned orgasmically.

I slapped him for his silliness. 

"I mean it, Tink. It doesn't matter how much I want to get laid. I'm not going for a quick romp between the sheets with some woman I hardly know. Not interested. Not worth it. I just take another few slugs of Scotch and head back for an early night...."

"And a spot of self abuse?" I asked eagerly.

Terry tutted. "What a question to ask a gentleman! Some things are private, young lady..." He smiled warmly and raised my hand to plant a tender kiss on it. "Let's just tire these monsters out and hope for a quiet night, hey?  I won't be long anyway...not in the state I'm in..." he giggled.

We held hands mushily for a while and indulged in a bit of romantic foreplay. Terry is very good at that. He can be incredibly crude when he wants to be - or unbelievably soppy. I rather like both sides of him.

"Do you ever miss the old days? I mean, you never went more than a few days without then. As I recall you used to come home to me for a sleep..." I reminded him of an old argument we had often had back in Neverneverland.

"No, I don't. Why, do you? It must be hard without the attentions of your adoring Roman general..."

"Low blow, Thornie...Yeah, I miss him. I miss lots of the guys. And the girls.  But it isn't about the lifestyle... I don't miss the sex..."

"Honestly?"

I nodded. "Honestly. I'm a mother of two littlies, Terry. Sex really doesn't come very high in my scale of priorities these days..."

"Pity," he muttered. "I was rather hoping you'd jump me in the rhododendron bushes later..."

I rolled my eyes. "You're a man. Sex is always important to you..."

"You are such a liar..." he remarked. "You're as randy as I am..."

I acted all shocked and prim at that. "I have learnt my lesson well, Terry. I should have listened to the wise women and kept my legs shut..."

"Oh yeah...But it would require Superglue in your case, Tinkerbell..."

"You are so mean...! You know, I read a great story the other day. I don't have much time for reading these days, but this was a short story so I managed it. A very, very short story...it went like this...

The World's Shortest Fairy Tale: 

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?"

The girl said, "No", and she lived happily ever after and went shopping, dancing, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, stayed skinny and farted whenever she wanted.

The end."

"You fart whenever you want anyway...and drink martinis copiously when you're not breastfeeding. You have a cleaner, you are the thinnest woman I know and cooking is still not high on your list of hobbies. I will not even go into the subject of shopping and dancing..." Terry answered.

"I'm not married, mate...that's why..." I retorted.

That's when he did it. Totally blew me away.

"Will you marry me then? And grow fat, learn to cook and clean and stop farting...?" He fished in the pocket of his fleece and pulled out a ring box. Inside was a large diamond. "Been thinking about it for months. It's really time, Tink. Maia's a smart kid. She'll soon cotton on that we're all called Thorne and you aren't. Plus...I want this so bad and have done for a very long time. You going to say yes or be like the girl in the fairy tale who had the charmed life?"

I took all of two seconds to make up my mind as I tried to focus on the ring through my tears. "Yes...!"

"Yes, you want a charmed life, or yes, you want a life of drudgery as my wife?"

"Drudgery....sex slave...baby factory...yes, yes, yes!"

"Did you just have an orgasm?" he asked cheekily. "I must do this more often. My hand doesn't get tired..."

We both burst out laughing and woke up Connor who immediately demanded milk and attention. Terry left me feeding him and went over chatting up Maia's new friend, her mother and another older woman she was with. Eight months to eighty...it doesn't make any difference. If they are female they go for Terry. And he goes for them...God love him...

Our plan to wear out the children was highly successful. After a whole day of fresh air, they were already falling asleep in the bath. The trouble was, so were we. Terry ordered take out while I got them off, we ate it desultorily in front of the TV and then both dozed off watching a film. But it was nice, all curled up on the settee. Terry has such a great body for cuddling. When I did finally stir, I gazed up to find him smiling down at me.

"My arm's gone to sleep..." he murmured. I knelt up and helped massage some life back into it for him. "Let's go to bed..." he whispered and kissed that place just behind my ear that makes me dissolve into a pool of goo.

You think I'm going to say we didn't have sex again that night, don't you? Well, we did. And it wasn't quick or a disappointment either. It was slow, languorous and dirty. I had forgotten how my body that was now a milk bar for Connor had once been a temple of earthly delights for Terry. It felt wicked to cast off my clothes and cavort like a wanton hussy with a man who was so hot that I thought he might burst into flames.

I love how men have no problem forgetting that they are sensible daddies when they are aroused. He was passionate and demanding and just rough enough to drive me insane - while romantic enough to blow me away.

When he finally eased away and rolled onto his back, pulling me gently with him, we were both in a state of utter satiation. He had a goofy grin on his face and I was almost floating above the bed. We lay, all tangled arms and legs, still touching and stroking, unwilling to break the bond of oneness that our coming together had given us again. "Are we really going to get married?" I whispered as I burrowed down into the warm musky place under his arm and he snuggled round me.

"Looks like it. No fuss, hey? Just the usual suspects and a civil ceremony? Bit of a do after in a fancy restaurant? You get something new to wear naturally...not white, I think..."

"...You look after your own suit, lover. What I wear is absolutely nothing to do with you...There are some conventions to maintain..." I raised up my hand and looked at the diamond twinkling in the soft light of the subdued bedside spots. "I always hated all that engagement and wedding nonsense...but suddenly I feel all squidgy inside about it..."

Terry laughed softly and pulled me even closer. "I think it highly amusing to try and imagine my Tinkerbell as a blushing bride...but you know something? You'll be the most beautiful one I have ever seen. I'd count on it...Hey, you think we should push the boat out tomorrow? Go up town and have a fancy lunch in one of the big hotels...to celebrate our engagement...?"

"What about the kids?" I asked.

Terry grunted. "Take them. Ask the Curry's and Henry to join us as well. Sunday brunch is usually meant for families...It's about time Maia and Con learnt to sit at a table and behave like human beings anyway...come on, let's get dressed up and spoil ourselves. I'll call a driver so's we can get pissed..."

"I'm breast feeding!"

"Well, you can have a few glasses of champers. Con will thus sleep the night and we can have another round of sex ...you know it's a great plan..."

Which brings me to where I came in, dear Diary. It seemed a wonderful idea at the time. I called Heather the next morning and she was so pleased at the invitation. Lachlan had been away a lot too off and on and she had had a tough time with Tristan and the baby - did I tell you that they'd had another as well? She fell pregnant a couple of months after me, just as Lachlan left for his first TOL job - she claimed it was the farewell night that did it. Trust Lachie to go out with a bang. Literally. Anyway, she now has another little boy. Angus. He's three months old and such a little darling. Where Tristan was always a livewire, Angus is big, bonny and calm, with a big goofy grin, dribbly mouth and curly fair hair. Lachlan adores him as much as his big brother. Those two sure do make beautiful babies.

So that was four babies, a grown up son and two couples. An ideal arrangement for Sunday Brunch at the Ritz?

Things have changed. We used to have punch ups and love ins - but the reality of our lives has altered somewhat. I'm not sure my darling Terry entirely gets that....

...The table was set exquisitely. Heather and I exchanged a glance. Tristan was already burrowing under the hanging white cloth with his little bottom protruding out temptingly. Maia was on her knees too, wondering what he was up to, about to disappear after him.

"Maia...sit down!" Terry announced in his best regimental voice. She peered up at him and then down at Tristan.

"Tristan's hiding...!"

"Well, you're going to show him how to be a good girl. Come on, sit up here on this lovely chair...Curry...get him out of there...! He'll upturn the whole thing in a minute..." Terry cannot stop organising people whenever there is a group of us. I think he immediately goes into battalion commander mode.

"Keep your hair on, Terry. He's only playing...!" Lachlan retorted, not very bothered about his son's exploration. At least he knew where he was down there.

Heather and I were sorting out the baby chairs. Connor slipped easily enough into his but Angus was still so tiny that she couldn't get him comfortable, so she gave up and sat him on her lap. He was fretful by then and she let him nuzzle on her breast, a shawl over one shoulder for privacy.

Maia sat down with a petulant look on her face. I could tell she was going to give us hell. She might only be three but she's practising at PMS already- or so Terry claims. He reckons she doesn't really need the practice either. It would have been better to let her play under the table. Now she was in avenging three year old mode. We would all pay for this. "I can see your boobies...!" she said to Heather, giggling.

"No, you can't. Don't be silly..." I whispered.

"I did see her booby! It's so big!" Maia added in a loud voice. "GINORMOUS!". Lachlan chuckled.

 Terry sighed. "Pipe down, Maia. The whole room heard that. Hasn't she got a volume control?"

"UNCA HENRY!!!!!" Maia screamed, proving that she was not indeed in possession of such a capability.

"Maia...whisper!" Terry tried vainly.

"I CAN'T WHISPER!" she bellowed back bossily.

I swear I thought Lachlan would wet himself. "Crikey, I love kids...! Thornie is so getting his just desserts here for his sexual proclivities..." Lachlan chuckled, hauling Tristan unceremoniously out from under the table at the same time. "Sit down, Tris...look who's here, little mate....!"

"HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!" Tristan shrieked. Henry struck a pose and unloaded a bag full of toys for the littlies. It was a box of Lego. I could imagine the consequences.

"Hey....it's like Noah's Ark in here. You lot always have sprogs in twos? Don't you ever give the shagging a break?

"What's shagging?" said Maia, chomping on a breadstick, ears pricked as usual always tuned into anything remotely naughty..

"SHAGGING! SHAGGING! SHAGGING!" Tristan was taking up the chant.

Terry rolled his eyes. "Can someone shut them up? Henry, watch you're bloody language!"

"Daddy said bloody, Mum. That a naughty word..." Maia remarked with her prim face on.

"I don't think he meant it, Maia. Stop saying it yourself....let's see what's on the menu..." I interjected, trying to take her mind of it. She can be quite relentless at times when she has something over an adult.

We all settled down. The waitress arrived to take our drinks order. "Bottle of champagne and five glasses. You got a tranquilliser gun for the kids?" Terry suggested.

"They'll have fruit juice. Two oranges..." I added. "What's wrong with you?" I hissed over to grumpy Terry. "Lighten up, will you?"

"It's like Fred Karno's circus...!" he muttered darkly.

"And it will get worse before it's better, believe me...." I countered with a warning. "Get used to it!"

The champagne arrived and glasses were charged. Terry stood up and indicated that he required our attention. "I wanted to gather you all here today to make an announcement..."

"...I want to wee!" shouted Maia, struggling to get down from her seat.

"Two minutes, Terry..." I swept her up and carried her to the ladies. Connor saw me go and started bawling.

We were as quick as we could be. When we got back, Terry was jigging Connor about. He was not pleased. Neither of my boys was. As soon as I was sitting down again, Terry plonked Con on my lap and I undid my blouse. He was soon feeding noisily.

"I can see your titties!" shouted Tristan with delight.

Terry cleared his throat and attempted to start again. "As I was saying...we asked you here today because..."

"What's that smell?" Heather interrupted. She investigated. "Cripes...Angus has just filled his diaper...I'll have to go sort this out...!" And she was off, carrying him gingerly before her. I ran after her with the changing bag, Connor still clamped to my bosom. He probably also needed a fresh nappy by now.

I looked back at Terry, poised with his champagne flute in the air. He grinned. I giggled. What can you say? Like kids give a damn about time and place? That's why they're so good for us.

We cleaned up the dirty bums, greatly amusing ourselves in the knowledge that we deposited the smelly parcels in the posh fancy rattan weave basket beneath the ultra chic sink which was surely not expecting the noxious loads our sons were capable of producing.

"What's the big announcement?" Heather asked as we cleaned up their little dumps.

"I'll leave it to Terry, he's got a sudden urge to open up...we mustn't stifle it!" I added, pointing to my nose secretively.

"We've got an announcement too..." Heather added as we swung through the doors back into the elegant restaurant, Angus over her shoulder. "...But it can wait until Terry's got his off his rather desirable chest..." she laughed. I wondered what she meant. Maybe they've decided to legalise it too? I was surprised that Lachlan hadn't done so already really. Things like marriage are very important to him. He's an old style boy at heart.

Back at the table, we resumed as we were. Maia and Tristan were already bored but Henry was entertaining them making trussed chicken shapes out of the table napkins. "Terry...get a move on...! You only have a small window here..." I muttered.

He tried again, refilling glasses. "Okay, I haven't got long before these kids do something terrible so I'd better talk fast. Tink and I have decided to make it legal. I made this beautiful woman 'the' offer, she accepted - incredible as that may seem - and so we are now officially engaged. Nuptials to follow shortly..."

The gasp of delight around the table was fantastic. Henry was so pleased, Lachlan was grinning from ear to ear, Heather started to cry, Terry grabbed me and planted a  sloppy kiss. Maia and Tristan watched the adults with confusion.

"Mummy! What's going on?" she exclaimed, not having followed the point of the conversation.

"Daddy and Mummy are getting married, sweetie..." I replied.

At that Maia threw herself dramatically back in the chair and started crying. " But I want to marry Daddy!"

As if at some given secret signal, Tristan knocked over his orange juice. It fell in Heather's handbag. The first course arrived. It was a seafood platter piled up with fresh oysters. Does Terry live in the real world?

At the sight of the array of raw and slippery fare, Heather's hand went to her mouth. "Oh God...I'm gonna throw up...!" And she dashed for the ladies' room, her orange juice handbag forgotten. I jumped up, handed Connor to Terry, and ran after her.

"What's the matter?" I asked as I reached the cubicle where Heather was already retching over a toilet bowl. I waited until she had finished heaving and then sank back into a heap, her hand running down her face to draw her hair back.

"I'm pregnant again...!"

I stared at her, stunned. "You can't be! Angus is only three months old! You're breastfeeding! It's impossible!" I insisted.

Heather groaned. "You don't know the penetration power of Curry sperm. I swear he could fertilise a statue. He's only been back five weeks! But I did the test a few days ago and saw a doctor yesterday. There are no absolutes in this game. I am pregnant and breastfeeding. The doctor told me to wean Angus but I feel so bad about that! He's only a tiny baby...what am I going to do?" Heather burst into tears. I sat down next to her on the floor and eased her against me. Poor baby!

And I didn't mean Angus.

"What does Lachie say?"

"Oh he's walking around like fucking Hercules..." she rejoined. "You'd think there was some skill attached to shooting your load..."

I couldn't help but laugh at her comment. "Well, you have to give it to him. He is very potent..."

"I'M THE POTENT ONE! He's just a horny toad!" Heather shouted and the tears came again. "What am I going to do? Three babies in three years? I can hardly keep my head above water as it is! And Angus is so little. It's not fair to him...he's such a good little boy and he'll get pushed to the back of the queue now! He'll only be one when his brother's born...!"

"Brother? You know that all ready?" I gasped.

Heather sniffed, tore off some loo roll and blew her nose loudly. "No...but it's sure to be a boy! Lachlan's Mum only had sons and I think the Curry men are incapable of producing daughters...imagine three little boys...and Lachlan! They'll drive me demented..." she wailed.

"Oh, you don't mean that...!" I hugged her close. "You love your boys - your big boy Lachlan most of all...! And don't be fooled by the myth of daughters... Maia's a little bugger, God love her...I bet this one is a girl, though...and Lachlan will just die of happiness....you know he will!"

She smiled at that even as she sobbed. "I love him so much. He's so good with the boys. He's the proudest Daddy in the world...but every time he comes home, or goes away, I end up pregnant...!" She began to blub again. I couldn't help but smile.

"I thought it was just me and Captain Fantastic who couldn't stop breeding...and don't exaggerate. This is only number three..."

"ONLY NUMBER THREE!!!" she wailed. "You'd be jumping off London Bridge if it was you or else you'd sever Terry's testicles with your bare hands..."

I tutted. "London Bridge is now in Arizona, as you should know - why would I go there to top myself? And I would never castrate Terry - that would be shooting myself in the foot, wouldn't it? I agree I would be pretty despo if Mighty Spunk impregnated me again but then the question is fairly moot as he would have to penetrate me first to do that and the two children we already have seem hell bent on destroying the chances of them ever having siblings..."

Heather stopped sniffing and looked at me curiously. "You saying you've not had sex since Connor was born? No wonder Terry looks snappy..."

"Terry? What about me? Don't I have needs? Actually we have had sex. A pretty healthy session last night, to be honest, but the fact of the matter is this - we don't have much sex. Not like we used to. Mostly one or both of us falls asleep for lack of interest. Yet you and Curry still seem to be like two rabbits..."

She blushed. "You don't have to put it quite like that! Lachlan's young. He has a very active libido..."

"...As does Terry! There's nothing wrong with him either...he's as horny as a sixteen year old...!"

"Are we going to have a fight over this?" Heather asked.

I rolled my eyes. "No, course not...! Come on we can't sit here on the toilet floor all day. Although the idea of Terry marshalling the troops out there alone does tempt me to stay put for a while longer..." I stood up, held out my hand and pulled her to her feet. She rinsed her face, I lent her some lipstick and we were soon as right as rain.

"Okay...let's go see what the bambini are up to..."

I dearly wished that I had a camera with me. The scene that met our eyes was priceless. Lachlan, Terry and Henry each had a child in their arms, jigging them about in that awkward way men have. Tristan was hanging onto his father's leg bawling to be carried while Lachie was trying to pacify little Angus who was roaring his temper. At the same time, Lachlan was trying to shake Tristan off gently as though he were a rabid dog. I think his reluctance to let Tristan hang on was something to do with the meatball sauce that his little hands were coated in that he was even now happily smearing onto Lachlan's khakis.

Meanwhile, Maia was in the throes of all-in wrestling with Terry, throwing herself about in that dramatic way she has, howling a long, babbling list of accusations while smearing his suit with the chocolate ice cream that was on her mouth, in her hair, on her hands and all down the front of her dress. Henry was trying to calm Connor down but it was too late. My little son was so upset he threw up all down big brother's best suit.

The table was like a battle zone. Heather and I exchanged glances before sitting down and accepting our babies who immediately calmed down, now letting out only the occasional sob, and staring accusatorily at their respective fathers. I called Maia over and Terry set her down so she could skittle over to me. Tristan was already whispering to Heather about all the injustices that had been rained down on his little head.

"Why are you crying and being so naughty for Daddy?" I asked Maia.

"He wouldn't let me run about."

"This is a restaurant. You are not allowed to run about," I defended her father's action resolutely.

"But he took away my ice cream...!" Maia began to whine again.

"Because you were using it to draw on the white cloth...." he barked over.

"Just a little, little, tiny bit..." she wheedled.

I looked at her face and clothing and over at the mess all over Terry's jacket, in his hair and the blob of chocolate ice cream on the end of his nose. He was unaware of it. I had an urge to lick it off. "That is more than a little, little, tiny bit...! Don't tell porkies, Maia!"

"...She grabbed the plate as I removed it and tipped it over all over herself. I tried to clean her up but she started to struggle and ...."

"...You picked her up. Bad move. Wriggling child is more difficult to control than a bucketful of rattlers....Old Chinese proverb..."

"You hardly need to tell me that now...." Terry muttered as he tried to mop himself up as best he could.

"What about the others? Why the serenade from the boys' choir?"

"Her crying started Angus off, I think she scared him...she bloody scared me anyway..."

"Bloody's a naughty word..."Maia piped up.

"Connor was looking about for you and then got kicked by Maia's flailing leg so he joined in. Took offence at Henry and that was that..."

"You said bloody, Daddy. That's a naughty word..."

"...I know Maia. I apologise. Now you stop saying it."

"At home my Daddy said fuck...that's a naughty word..." Tristan suddenly remembered.

"What's fuck?" Maia asked. 

"Can someone gag these two before I brain them?" Terry exclaimed.

"I'm covered in baby puke," Henry complained. "This suit cost a bloody fortune as well..."

"Daddy, Henry said bloody. That's a naughty word..."Maia just loves it when she can belabour a point.

"That kid's like a dripping tap...let's settle the bill and get out of here... I've had enough..." Terry glowered, picking up Connor and the baby bag roughly, setting him off crying again. Lachlan raised Tristan on to his shoulders much to his glee, which only made Maia whinge more because she wanted to be on her Daddy's shoulders as well.

"Hey, we haven't eaten yet!" I observed as we trotted out behind the men..

"McDonalds... on the way home...." Was the sympathetic response from my future husband. As we made our way out trying not to disturb the other diners anymore than we already had, a man stood up and stopped Terry.

"Good God, it is you, Thorne! Well, haven't you been prolific since the last time we met....is this all your own work...?" It was that little toad, Ian Havery who used to be Terry's boss at Luthan back in the film, dining with a woman young enough to be his granddaughter. I saw Terry's face stiffen. "Is that chocolate sauce?" Havery indicated the goo on Terry's face with a supercilious grin

"It is indeed." Terry gritted his teeth.

"Surely these children aren't all yours, are they? Business must be good..."

Terry smiled, one of those smarmy smiles he keeps for when he is about to say something cutting. "All mine. I started young but then the ladies always loved me best, didn't they?" He flashed a look at Havery's bit of fluff and she preened prettily back at him.  "Yes, all mine, Havery from young Lachlan here down to baby Angus - and the two germinating in these lovely ladies as we speak. After five sons and only one daughter, we thought we'd have a go and try to improve on the female score...Great to see you again, mate...you still firing blanks then?"

And with that he hoisted Connor higher in his arms and strode off with the same amount of élan as he had hefting combat gear out of helicopters. God, I love him when he's in that super alpha mode!

Later that night as he lay dozing in the bath and I was brushing my teeth, we had a chance to talk. He had calmed down somewhat, aided by a few glasses of Scotch, one of which was sitting on the edge of the bath. I removed it, afraid he was going to wake suddenly and knock it over. Suddenly he spoke. He wasn't asleep after all.

"It was great being with the kids today. Even if they were a bloody nightmare. But...it beats room service alone again..."

I sat on the edge and ruffled up his hair damp and curly in the steam. "You were right. We need to take them out and teach them how to behave in proper society. I don't believe in changing up everything in your life for kids. They have to learn to adapt too. They'll get easier as they get older. Kids are not babies forever..."

"More's the pity....Henry looked pretty damn fine today, didn't he? He's turning out to be a really decent young man..."

"...And why wouldn't he be? He's your son...how could he be anything more than a fine man...?"

Terry caught my hand in his and raised it to his lips. "You are my greatest defender, aren't you? You've always got my back..."

I wrinkled up my nose and leaned over with my left hand, giving his genitals a gentle squeeze under the water. "I've even get your front if you'll hoist yourself out of there and get dried..."

Standing up, I dropped the robe I was wearing slowly and then slipped out of the room, looking back tantalisingly, inviting him to join me. I didn't need to say it twice. The water displacement was already slopping everywhere as he lunged for a towel. I love a man on a mission.

He came into the bedroom with a towel round his waist and another in his hands rubbing at his hair. "This marriage thing...let's not wait. No reason to hang about. I'll go and get the licence sorted next week..."

"...How about a reception at the Ritz?" I giggled.

Terry snorted and threw away the towel, wiggling his hips suggestively as he dropped the one round his waist. "Think we might have run our luck there...how about the Dorchester...?" He jumped in next to me and rolled me over roughly. "God, I love your arse..." he muttered as he ran his hands up my skimpy negligee.

"No oysters, though.... Heather's pregnant..."

"Again? Bloody hell! Does he ever leave her alone?" he murmured as he buried his face in my breasts.

"Bloody's a naughty word..." I mimicked my daughter's bossy voice.

"Naughty? You want naughty? I'm going to show you naughty, little girl..." he sniggered crudely and began to do some very naughty things to me.

I lay back and let him go. The house was quiet. The children were fast asleep. Terry was home. I was going to be his wife. There was nothing more on earth I wanted but what I had right now at that moment.

That's when I knew we had arrived. The journey was over. This was our life and it was everything I had always been looking for even if I hadn't known what I wanted at the time. We had travelled a very long road since the first time we had met. We would carry on travelling that road together with the family we had made. The story is not over. Even if this is the end....