ANDY

He'd asked me to call in Monday morning when we'd been at Bou's party Friday night. Actually it had been more like an order: "Private Compton at my office at 10.00 hours at the double!" You know the way he sounds. I wasn't very impressed and, of course, managed to sound like a petulant teenager when I answered him back and got one of his smug looks in response.

Look, I am so over any Terry Thorne complex I might have had, but, I don't much like the bloke, okay? I don't have to like everyone, do I?

At first I decided not to go. He can't simply order me around like I was just one of his underlings. I pretty much knew what was coming anyway. He would probably be giving me a ration of shit about our decision. I would be ruining Uma's life, destroying her business, putting unfair pressure on her, crap like that. Why should I have to sit and listen to that from a loser like him? Like he's got some great track record with women? The king of unrequited love or whatever title he likes to wallow under?

Yet when Monday morning came, I had a change of heart. I wasn't running scared. Maybe I had a few things of my own to say to the bastard if he tried to take that line with me. 'She loves me, mate, and that is what sticks in your fucking craw, isn't it?' I'd let him have it.  So, I had a shower and a shave while Uma lounged around in our hotel room watching day time TV and half heartedly trying to tempt me back into bed. She was so lazy that she couldn't be bothered to do much more than call over the occasional obscene suggestion.

I thought about wearing a suit. No...Why should I pander to his corporate style? He had asked me there. There was nothing in it for me. I could walk in with an old pair of jeans with my knees hanging out for all I cared. It wasn't like he wouldn't be prepared to see me without a fucking tie on, was it? So I ripped that off and slipped into my old denims and a baggy sweat shirt. Christ, Andy, you going to let him think you really are a bit of a nong? Little Andy doesn't even know how to act when he goes to the City? What an embarrassment to Uma!

I changed again. This time a pair of black pants and a pale blue shirt with a white T underneath. I could wear a decent pair of Timberland boots and my leather jacket. I took a look at myself. Pretty cool. Manly, clean and crisp but not interested in looking like a suit. I slicked my hair back with a bit of gel and tried on some sunglasses. Uma was eating an apple and watching me.

"You got a hot date or something?" she asked suddenly.

"What're you going on about?" I snapped back, realizing that my behaviour must have seemed like some big girl who can't decide what to wear.

"You've ransacked that case and tried on almost your whole wardrobe already... now you're posing like James Dean or something. If I didn't know better I would think you wanted to impress some bird. A suit? Monday morning? What is going on?"

"Nothing. I have to go somewhere..." I grabbed my wallet and phone and made for the door. "I won't be long...go and see Bou....you'd be better off alone with her...have a real girls' chat...."

"Where are you going....?" I heard her say as I shut the door. I knew she was jumping out of bed to try and call after me, so I ducked down the stairs on the left instead of waiting for the lift. All I needed was an interrogation from her the way I was feeling.

 

He works at one of those upscale office blocks on the Docks, all steel and glass, like some image from a futurescape: serious young men and women in severe suits with their slim line laptops, talking into state of the art cells whizzing in and out of elevators and stepping into high performance cars on the forecourt. My uncertain self confidence was taking a further nosedive by the minute. I felt that my choice of clothes was naïve. They would probably take me for some delivery boy from a courier service or maybe a maintenance man.

I checked the board and found Thorne's floor, riding up in the elevator with a few young banker types who gave me a casual glance and dismissed me in seconds. The nearer I got to the place the more uneasy I felt. It wasn't just a matter of this 'interview' with Thorne. I was also worried about being recognised - or rather anyone thinking that the resemblance between me and Terry was odd. No one ever seems to make the connection but it could happen and who knows what the consequences might be? I was a little surprised Thorne had even asked me to his place of work for that very reason and so I kept the sunglasses on, even if they looked pretty pathetic indoors.

Stepping out onto the thick carpet of the corridor, I followed the signs to the office entrance and pushed open the imposing portals into the silent reception beyond, where a lone woman was sitting at a screen, listening into a discreet head piece.

I walked up, leant my weight from one leg to another and stuck my hands on the counter while she ignored me. I coughed and she looked up like she hadn't seen all 5'11'' of me looming over her already. I could see that worrying about being recognised was unnecessary; this lady wasn't even planning on glancing in my direction, let alone thinking I looked like Terry Thorne.

"Yes?" She asked in a way that already said she was unlikely to accede to any request I was about to make.

"I'm here to see Mr. Thorne."

She gave me a wry look. "I presume you have an appointment? He sees no one without an appointment..." Again her attitude said the exact opposite of her words. She believed I had no such thing and would never be admitted to his majesty's presence.

"Yeah. Ten o'clock," I answered curtly.

She looked scathing but checked her screen with a tap of the keyboard by her perfectly manicured nails. I felt like saying, "I've got a woman at home who would make you look like a bag lady in comparison..." But that sounded a really pathetic thought to have had, like Uma was just some sort of trophy girlfriend. I don't see her like that. But I sure would have liked to have rammed her style down Miss Snooty's face.

"Name?"

"Andy Compton."

One slender eyebrow raised in surprise. "You are he?"  

"...Was when I last checked the name tag my Mum sewed in my shirt..." I answered with a smirk. She gave me a withering look back.

"One moment." She tapped a button and then said, "Mr. Thorne? Your ten o'clock. Should I ask him to wait?" She listened and nodded, turning back to me.

"Follow me."

I walked behind her as she tip-tapped in her high stilettos along the corridor to his senior partner office, her tight little ass bouncing up and down as she moved with an almost annoyed little waggle to her walk. I wandered behind getting a free perve and wondering what it took to get her loosened up. Wondered if Terry had ever had her writhing under him and groaning crudely. I got this mental image of the pair of them and almost giggled. That kind of thing you do when people intimidate you and you want to level the odds a bit in your head, you know?

Or am I the only one who does things like that?

She opened the door briskly and introduced me, withdrawing almost as soon as I had stepped into the room; it was a wonder she didn't trap my heels in it. Terry was over at the window, talking on the phone; he glanced round and held up a hand as if to say 'just a sec' then went on with his conversation, his back to me.

I looked at him, wearing an expensive well cut wool suit, without the jacket, his crisp white fine cotton shirt rolled up at the sleeves and his tie loosened. He still managed to look perfectly turned out in that way he has. His conversation was typically Action Man, all about cargoes and retrievals and 'We're not paying you mega bucks to find your dicks, mate..."Someone at the other end was getting a bollocking.

Maybe he was just working himself up for me.

He snapped off the phone and walked over to where I was still standing, extending his hand. I didn't take it. "Andy...sit down, sit down...thanks for calling in...hope it didn't break into your schedule..."

Schedule? I have a schedule now?

"I'm okay. I'll stand."

He took a seat and gave me an amused glance. "Sit. I'm not staring up at you..."

I shrugged and sat down. "Look, mate, before you lay into me, I just want to say, I don't appreciate you summoning me here like you are some sort of "He who must be obeyed'...I don't give a toss for what you think of me and of what me and my girlfriend decide to do with our lives, so..."

"...Take a breath, will ya, before you make a complete tit of yourself?" Terry interrupted. Then he pushed over an envelope across the table, slowly resting it in front of me. It had my name on it.

"What's this?"

"Why don't you open it?" He answered smarmily.

I gave him a suspicious look and snatched it up, ripping open the envelope. Inside was a cheque made out in my name. It was for the same amount as Uma had made from the sale of the pub - plus one pound sterling.

"What the fuck's this?" I asked belligerently. I could see the signatory was Thorne himself from his personal account. There was no way I was taking charity from him. "I don't want it..." I threw it back on the table and went to stand up. He held out his hand.

"Give me five minutes, Andy...to explain..."

I hunched my shoulders and sat back down. "I'm still not accepting it."

"Your choice. But hear me out. Uma has sold her share in the pub to go into partnership with you - because she loves you. But what is going to bite your bum over the next few months and years is this. She might on paper sign it over to you but you will always know that without her, you couldn't have had this chance. Right? Well, that money gives you a way to hold your head up and really be the major shareholder. Equal partners with you on top....You need to know that and she needs to know it too. She loves you but she's a handful. They all are. Make sure you're the boss. Take the money and it changes everything."

"From you? Are you crazy? What do you get out of it? Besides knowing that without you, I couldn't look after my woman properly..."

"...Jesus Christ! It's a gift. Or it's a loan. Whatever the fuck you like that makes you feel better. What's in it for me? I've got a lot of money. You haven't. I care about you two. I want you to make this work. I don't want you to start with anything between you that might one day become an issue. I know the way men think. I know what will gnaw at you. You're proud and you want to prove yourself. So I help you along. So what? I just want to know that you're safe and she's safe and you're both able to make a good life together...no agenda, mate...pay me back...call it a bank loan...if it makes you feel better.."

I gave it some thought. This would make the difference between just getting by and buying a real classy place. Between struggling and having a real chance at the big time. It would mean that Uma would not have to roll her sleeves up and start all over again. Although I suspect she would anyway.

"Loan. With interest."

"Even better. I invest some money and help some mates...make even more money...suits me...and I will...make money. I know you'll succeed. Never yet made a mistake on a sure thing...." He smiled over and for the first time, he didn't manage to annoy me. A sure thing, hey? You fucking bet we were.

"Terry...I was rude to you before. I've acted like a dick a couple of times...."

He grinned. "And I rode you hard. Especially in the early days. I care about her, mate. Even if I have no right, I was always concerned. I couldn't bear to see her hurt again...." It was genuine and from the heart. I couldn't disagree with him. Who knows better than me how her heart has been broken time and time again and what it took for her to dare to love again?

"I'm glad you feel like that. She needs you too, Terry. I won't ever come between what you two have again..." 

This time I shook his hand and thanked him properly. I'm not too proud to admit I could have been wrong about him. I stood up and turned to go when he called me back. "She doesn't need to know about this. I don't want to make her feel I'm interfering. I don't want you to have to feel that I'm somehow butting in..."

It was gratifying to know that he can get some things wrong. "I'll tell her soon as I get back. We're a team, Terry. She talks to me, I talk to her. That's how it works. Maybe you should try the simple approach sometimes?"

I couldn't quite resist getting one over on him even then. So I'm a guy. Another alpha male. You expect me to apologise for that?

 

 

UMA

 

 

I found Andy sitting on the bed staring at the damn cheque when I finally got back to the hotel room. It had been a weird day of saying individual goodbyes to those close to me and frantic last minute arrangements - plus a little bit of spoiling myself which seemed only fair in the circumstances. Or spoiling Andy. It's much the same thing really. I just wanted to kick off my shoes, go soak in a hot bubble bath and then slip in between cool sheets with him. But one look told me something was up.

He came clean straight away. I respect him so much for that. He really isn't a guy who disseminates easily. It preys on his mind if he doesn't tell the truth and you can see in his face that he's unhappy about it. It's strange that he regards himself, courtesy of that bitch Celia and a few other bastards in his life, as a man who is not entirely trustworthy when in fact he is the most ingenuous person I have ever met.

"What do you think?" he asked me. "Was I right to accept it?"

I nodded. "He's a good friend. Andy...you know how I feel about him. There was a time I hoped....well, you know what I hoped. I believe he had some aspirations in that direction too. But things changed. He got involved with Gaia - and I met you. But Terry and I are very good friends still. He cares about me. He worries about me. I feel the same about him. I think he understood that a man like you needs to be in charge. It's a pride thing. I've also been thinking about it recently. It means nothing to me - I'd give you the last drop of blood, you know that - but men need to know they can provide and not depend on the charity of their women. I understand that. He's giving you face. Andy...I got my money from my property, you got it from an investor. It's equal now. Nothing else matters. Drop it."

He smiled and I took the cheque from him, kissed it and set it down on the table with a paperweight on top; I was taking no chances. Then I sat down by him on the bed and slowly began to remove his clothes, one by one until he was naked. I stood up and did the same for mine.

We shuffled up the bed and lay side by side on the pillow, staring at each other. Our hands reached out and touched the other as we smiled. "I always loved girls like you," Andy suddenly said. "Skinny, feminine girls with small breasts and perky nipples. Brown haired girls with silky dark pubic hair against pale skin...When I saw you that first day, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. You were like every fantasy I'd ever had...I never thought a woman like you could pass from my dream world into reality..." All the while, his hands had tenderly stroked my body. He always makes me feel like I'm something so precious and special.

I did the same to him, exploring his strong solid young flesh. I adore his body and I am no longer ashamed to say that his youthful manliness turns me on. He is so beautiful, lean and muscular with that stringy sexuality of young males. He's twenty seven now and still as lean as ever. I expected him to fill out but he hasn't. But why should he? He doesn't drink a lot, he's very fit, runs every day and - surprisingly, or maybe not, for someone in his profession - he doesn't eat a great deal. Cooking and tasting seems to depress his appetite, and I don't suppose the cigarettes help too much.

"I love your body..." I whispered to him. "It's everything I want in a man..."

"...You going to tell me how small my perky little dick is?" he grinned. I giggled and pulled the impressive specimen soundly.

"On the contrary, next to your lean thighs and narrow hips, your todger looks enormous. Might be a trick of perspective but at first glance I thought you'd aced it. Top of the class...but I'm biased. I look at you and everything about you is better than anyone I have ever known. Andy....I love you. You're perfect. The day you walked into the bar, I saw you and simply couldn't speak. My heart knew even then. I'd just met the one. The one out of all of them. Ain't that something?"

His eyes told me what my words meant even though he didn't answer at first and then something seemed to occur to him. "When I say you were every fantasy...I wasn't just meaning sex....I meant, I fell for you too...straight away..." he mumbled.

"Liar...! You know you saw me and all you thought was.., 'Crikey, I so want to root her blind...' Admit it!"

He laughed and rolled me beneath him as he prepared to do just that. "Okay...that was maybe my first thought. You gotta admit you are a pretty rootable Sheila....So....what can I say? Everybody lies....just not all the time..." he grinned. "And now I love you. And you are mine. And nothing will ever come between us again."

He was right. In the end it was as simple as that. Reach out and go for what you want and sometimes, it falls into your hands - if you only dare to dream.

There was no rush. We didn't have to grab a few precious moments before we went down to open the pub for the evening session, there wasn't going to be a knock on the door asking us where something was, he didn't have to hurry out to the market or to receive a delivery, we were not exhausted after a long day on our feet.

His fingers strayed down my naked body, taking a walk playfully, smiling to himself shyly as he wandered further and further down my body, finally resting on the smooth satin of my mons. He cocked his head to one side and raised his eyes languidly. "So...who's been to the salon?"

I grinned and wriggled closer, reaching out to touch his cock, half erect and rising boldly from the thick cushion of soft hair at his groin. He purred softly as I stroked his shaft; the response was immediate as he hardened.

"I haven't had a decent wax in ages. Poor you. You've had to put up with it all hairy and shaggy...so I thought I'd have a nice neat job done....boy, you have no idea how much I have suffered today for you; legs and groin at one rip."

He winced. "I like hair....but....I also like it like this..." he gently prised my legs open and murmured approvingly. "God, you've got a beautiful cunt...!"

"Is there such a thing as an ugly one to men? I really think you're all a little bit inclined to love them all this close up," I laughed.

Andy threaded his right leg through mine, nudging the tip of his penis against the narrow remaining strip of hair. "No....nothing...no one...feels like you....when I see you, I just want to be inside you. I can't help myself. I'm obsessed with your body."

Then he suddenly rolled onto his back and lay thinking about something. I idly played with his penis and he smiled vacantly. "It's not just about sex. I wouldn't want you to think that. I can't explain it. I want you all the time but not because I want sex. I just want to be part of you. It feels different. Like it's how I prove my feelings for you. They're so strong that I want to love you, give you everything, never let anything hurt you, fill you with babies...all these mixed emotions but they come out in sexual stuff. But it isn't like when I've wanted to get laid before...." He had that look on his face that I adored so much, when he is desperately trying to articulate something deep inside.

"You don't have to say it, Andy. You show it in everything you do. I understand men. Sex can mean one thing or it can mean another. It's like....sometimes you want sex for your own pleasure. But when you're in love you want it for someone else's. There is nothing in this world sweeter than making the one you love come. Your own sensations are just not as important."

He nodded. "Same for you?"

"Pretty much." I wriggled down and kissed his tip, slipping his sweet cock between my lips. I felt him relax and run gentle fingers through my hair. It was a dreamy, quiet moment, not like the frantic passion we often share but the soft satisfying togetherness of a man and woman.

"You've had a lot of men," he said it but it was as if he was thinking out loud. Or maybe he just speaks all his thoughts to me now.

I raised my head, and rubbed the purple knob against my cheek tenderly. "I suppose I have. Compared to you - more men than you've had women. I mean, I've been going at it longer, you know? But not as many as you might think. I can't help my past. I won't apologise for it. It's made me the woman you love. Just like yours made you into the man I love. But think of it like this, Andy. Everything I have ever done - including meeting all the guys and setting up the pub - has been to bring me here to this moment with you today. You were the reason all along. Isn't that something?"

I returned to attend to him. He didn't stop me, just lay and let me love him. He's young and confident enough in his virility that he knows it won't be long before he'll get his second wind. His turnaround rate is frighteningly impressive. I don't think he realizes how much; it's normal to him. But I don't much care either way. If all I get to do is swallow, then I'll still feel like I've just had the greatest gift of all.

He eased my body round to part my legs again and give himself the visual treat he wanted to go with the lingual stimulation. I heard him mutter something as he stroked the naked skin.

"Hmmmm?" I asked as I sucked hard; his body flexed and a soft moan came from his lips, he was leaking pre-cum, a salty trickle, his balls drawing up, his thighs trembling with the approaching orgasm.

"Like hair. But...No hair....better...."he gasped and then stiffened for a moment before I felt the gagging spray on the back of my throat, the thick viscous, salty oyster waves as he shuddered in spasms, groaning helplessly.

He finished and we lay quietly, my lips still on his softening penis, my tongue lapping up the final traces. Then I eased away, releasing my hold on his scrotum, and he gathered me up, settling me down against his shoulder and curling up around my body, like a little child hugging a teddy bear.

"Just give me a few minutes, huh?"

"You bet," I whispered stroking back the messy fringe, damp with sweat. "Just remember though, mate. I like hair. Lots of it. All over. Don't you ever shave your groin or wax your balls or any of those metro-man things some girls seem to love on their men these days..." I teased as I kissed his forehead.

"I love being a boy," he murmured. "...And now I have another reason to add to my list...beauty without pain...." We both giggled and lay playing, talking soft and low.

"You going to see Terry?" he asked me.

"Well, not right now," I grinned as he stoked himself up for the next round. "But yeah...tomorrow...I'll go and say my goodbyes tomorrow....and my thanks..."

"He told me make sure I always knew who was boss," he laughed as he flipped me over as easily as a rag doll and prepared to enter me from behind.

"Top dog, Andy....you know how I like my men..." he thrust and entered with one movement, shunting me along the bed and then dragging me back to him. I howled like a coyote. He no longer stops to ask if he's hurting me. He knows what I like. Him. Anyway he wants to be.

Later we lay eating take away pizza in bed watching MTV and singing along to an Oasis retrospective. Andy loves them. I love them sometimes. But Wonderwall they wrote just for us.

 

 

 

UMA

The next afternoon, our last full day, I told Andy I was going shopping- always a sure way of scaring him off - and left him watching cricket on the TV in our room.

And went to call on Terry.

I had always intended to see him alone before I left but there was even more reason to do so now. I think Andy knew exactly where I was going but he didn't mention it. He'd been out for a run, come back all sweaty, pounced on me and then dragged me into the shower for a bit of fun and games to work off the testosterone rush that exercise had given him. Since then he had been sprawled out naked on the bed with a few cans of beer, a big bag of chips and the telly and hardly seemed to notice when I finished my makeup, put on my jacket and gave him a quick kiss.

Actually he did notice. He said: "Move, I can't see the screen." Well, he's a man. What can you expect?

I've been to Terry's office before but not for a while. The woman on the desk was new, but another snooty clone with a rod of ice up her fanny. It must be a prerequisite in the job descriptions at TOL. 'Must have a sour face and look like you are holding a cut lemon in your wotsit.'

Oh good, I thought to myself. Let's have some fun.

I flounced up. Today I had gone for distressed jeans, see through mesh Tshirt with a black bra, a leather jacket and a pair of stiletto ankle boots; my hair was in a messy pony tail. It was a look Andy lovingly referred to as my 'ho' style. He rather likes it, having a young man's taste for trashy chic. I reckon old Terry himself would give me more than a slight glance dressed like this. It's no fun if you don't wind them up, is it?

"Terry in?" I addressed Ms. Ice Fanny.

"I beg your pardon?" she gave me a piercing look. Like she was going to scare me?

"Don't you speak English? Just call Terry up and say Uma's here..."

She smiled coldly. "Appointment?"

I smiled petulantly. "Don't need one. He'll see me."

"I think not."

"Well, the agency said go to the 16th floor and ask for Terry. He likes it rough and up against a wall. He tips well but expect a big extra bonus for anal..."

Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets; she sat there trying to form a sentence but nothing would come out.

"So, you better pick up the phone and tell him I'm here, love. He's a busy man with a pressing need..."

The woman finally found her vocal chords and spoke into her headset. "Mr. Thorne? She's here..."

"It's Uma, love..." I reminded her.

"Uma..." she enunciated carefully and listened. "Room 1602, down the corridor on your right, last door...."

"Thanks, sweetie!" I bounced past her and set off in pursuit of my John...

"Hiya, Tez..."

He was writing and didn't lift his head when I entered. Terry was wearing one of those crisp cut away collared shirts he loves but he looked relaxed, the tie off and lying on a chair near the window along with the jacket of his suit. Without lifting his head he replied: "You gave her the call girl line again, I take it?"

"Wouldn't let you down, sweetie! She's probably creaming her ice cold panties at this minute imagining Thornie unleashed. How are you, Terry?" I came over and plopped myself onto his knee. This time he looked at me - and took his time about it, letting his eyes linger on my attire. He also gave my bum a bit of a feel.

"All the better for having you for the next hour. Okay, on your knees..."he joked going for his zipper.

I jumped on his lap a bit more and wiggled my breasts in his face. He murmured appreciatively and then told me to go sit across the desk and behave. I knew he was enjoying himself too much. Even Mr. Cool can't keep his mind on the job when it drifts onto the subject of his libido.

Settling myself down, he rang for coffee and in came Fanny. "This is a good friend of mine, Uma...." he announced to his receptionist.

"We've met,' Petrified Fanny retorted disapprovingly.

"Petra...she isn't a hooker. She just has a warped sense of humour..." Terry answered by way of explanation.

That seemed to annoy her even more. "So she didn't even have an unofficial appointment?" Pet gasped.

"I'm afraid not. You can discipline me later, Petra. I tip even better for S and M..." Terry replied with that straight-faced style of his.

Poor thing. Terry should not have said that but he was in a chirpy mood. I bet it was my see through top. Worth its weight in gold, that is.

Alone again I poured out two cups of coffee and we settled down to serious talk. "I was going to come anyway. You know I wouldn't have gone without saying a special goodbye. But I also wanted to say thank you..."

"..For the money?" he interrupted, his eyes gleaming. 

"No. For giving him his pride. I'll never forget you for doing that. But it is typical of you. I wish I could say it surprised me, but it didn't. You are a really fine man and the best friend I've ever had. And I shall miss you. Every day. I just wanted you to know that."

He smiled gently, almost shyly at my words, lowering his eyelashes in that way he has that is so at odds with his dominant personality. He reached over and took my hand across the table. "I'll miss you too. More than you know. But it isn't goodbye. I'm in Oz a coupla times a year. I've got this stake in a new restaurant now as well, ya know? Gotta go check on my investment. Expect to see me regularly. And feed me. And I eat a lot. No nouvelle cuisine, fancy arsed tiny helpings piled up to look like a still life for me, thank you..."

I grinned and squeezed his hand. "No goodbyes. Not between me and you. You need an ear...anytime...you just get on the blower and we talk. Andy's really grateful, Terry. He's going to show everyone what he's made of. He has such great ideas for the future...."

"...I have no doubts. Been watching him. He's impressing me more and more all the time. Once he loses that little chip he's got, there'll be no stopping him. And I can't imagine a better woman for helping him lose the chip than you. Have a wonderful time. Work hard. Play even harder. Find the dream, baby. And make me an uncle fairly soon. Let's face it - you won't see 35 again. Biological clock's ticking, Ums..."

I pulled a face at him but it's the kind of thing he can say and I would never mind. He was reminding me, not that it was necessary anymore, that some things had to be faced and I couldn't put everything on hold forever. Andy wasn't to dictate everything about our relationship. Even Terry doesn't quite get what goes on between the two of us inside our love. I'm glad he doesn't. It isn't even for my best mate to know that.

"I better go then..." I stood up and looked awkward. There wasn't anything else to say. I hate long goodbyes and knew I would start sniveling if this went on much longer. And Terry would laugh at me.

"Sure...you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?" he offered.

I shook my head. "Jeff and Paul are doing the run. They're Andy's mates, Terry. He wanted them to be there. And I don't want anyone. Otherwise I'll cry."

At that he smiled softly and stood up, walking round the desk to where I was standing. "You know you'll cry anyway."

And he held me to his chest while I had a good weep. He didn't laugh at me. I have lost touch of the number of shirts of his I've ruined with mascara. I hope Gaia's understanding when she sees the makeup traces. Gaia? Understanding? Is that an oxymoron? The man does not know the meaning of fear.

He patted my back and gave me a handkerchief to blow my nose. I looked up at him and I swear his eyes were moist too. "You better go before I disgrace myself," he said and leaned down to give me a warm kiss, tender and sweet, nudging my nose with his playfully. "Now go back to that man of yours. I'm glad he told you. Says a lot about the kind of partners you are."

I backed away. He stood watching me with that intense look of his, a hint of a sad smile playing round his mouth. "You're looking fine, girl..."

I grinned and gave him a twirl. "And you - you are just the best. The very best. Wonderwall!"

He frowned. I think Oasis must have passed him by. I blew him a kiss and left him standing there. The last real hurdle was over. We were almost ready to leave.

 

 

ANDY

Jeff and Paul had offered us a lift and I didn't want us just to slip away with no one to see us off. They've been good mates to me over the past nine months and I just needed to let them know what they meant to me. We'll be seeing them soon enough; Jeff is planning a trip before too long with Paul anyway.

We expected to have to pile in the van now they had sold their car to help towards this pub they've just bought but were pleasantly surprised when we staggered out (we meaning me and the bell boy, Uma never carries anything but her phone and a handbag) under the weight of her luggage to find Paul perched on Chili's Cadillac. Palmer had let him borrow it, which was pretty amazing considering his emotional attachment to that car. And we are talking Paul as the driver. Not many people would let him take their dog for a walk never mind their car for a drive.

At the airport check in, we had another surprise. I was still counting cases when Uma plonked the tickets and her passport down. The Qantas guy immediately went into to overdrive at the sight of her. "Now you look like a lady who should travel first class..."

She simpered and preened as he gave her his talk. Cheeky bastard. I stood up and threw my Aussie passport on the counter. "I'm with the lady..." I said with a smug smirk.   "But first class works for me, mate. No worries."

He had already made the decision and we were in. Uma grinned and slipped her arm around my waist. "He's lovely, isn't he? Are they all like him in Melbourne?"

The guy rolled his eyes and handed us our boarding passes. "It's a bloody good job I upgraded you with that amount of luggage...so you're dating a cobber, are you, love? They run out of decent Poms over here?"

"Well, there's always me," Paul chirped up from the back. "Your blokes can't leave me alone..." he pouted, arms round Jeff's shoulders.

"Bloody hell," Mr Qantas remarked, turning to Jeff. "You an air steward then? Every poofta in Oz works for Qantas. Except me, of course..."

It was so typically Aussie humour but with an interesting touch. The guy didn't seem to think we were a mismatched couple. The difference in our ages didn't seem to be evident to him. Maybe love was making Uma seem younger and me more mature. Or maybe it doesn't really matter much once you stop thinking about it.

We sat at a café, drank coffee and made small talk. The blokes sat there discussing the forthcoming World Cup qualifying matches. Uma started whining about how soulless we were "Have you absolutely no sense of occasion? You would think you were just having a yarn over the bar not saying goodbye to old friends who were about to fly halfway across the world!" She dabbed at her nose with a tissue and we shrugged and went on comparing the relative merits of the long ball to the passing game.

What else were we going to do? Sit around holding hands and crying? We're blokes. We just don't act like that. No worries. No problem. No big deal. See you later.

Uma sobbed her heart out when it finally came time to say goodbye. And so did Paul. Well, he's as much one of the girls as the boys, isn't he? Even Jeff and I looked a bit teary eyed as we sent out all our last messages to the gang back at the pub and gave our final farewells.

Then I took Uma's hand, she smiled up at me and we left them there, waving and grinning, blowing kisses and shouting last words. A bend in the corridor and we were gone. In the end it just comes down to the two of us. At the end of one road. At the beginning of another.

 See you later?

 

 

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