April 2003

"What the fuck am I doing here? Opening up my heart to you? So you can step on it again? Jesus Christ, I need fresh air..." (Spring Break. Part 4)

They were the final words he ever spoke to me. They still seemed etched on my mind even now, after more than a year. We had broken up...tried to get together again...at last more or less made up, promised to start again... and then...I told the truth about something and he simply lost it. He walked away and that was it. He never came back.

I won't blame anyone. I'd been working my way around men like they were a vanishing commodity and he had misunderstood about Bud...but I'm not going to go over it again. Read the diary. Spring Break. Some break. Two hearts shattered in a moment.

But you live.

Somehow.

There's a song I used to play a lot at the worst times. You know how you always have a song when some bloke breaks your heart? Suppose they have them, too, don't they? Bet he had Van the Man on continuous rewind. My rewind? White Flag. Wish I could have played it for him. Maybe he would have understood then...

 

 

 

April 2004

I met Jack at the airport on a fine spring day and remembered a week, more than a year ago now, when we had last spent time together (Diary: Laying Ghosts). It was a bitter-sweet memory. Shortly afterwards, Terry and I had parted, as you know, and the fallout from that time had left me shattered for months. I had turned to Maximus, but even he had had to leave me when his own personal life was in crisis and I had let him go, aware that he was not what I really wanted nor was I what he really needed either.

I lost my taste for games. Despite the appeals from my Sisters and some of the Brothers too, I cried off several group activities that summer, missed the Cruise and even the Temple week- although I had been tempted to go to that, as it was unlikely I would have bumped into anyone whom I did not want to see. But somehow, I didn't have the heart for it all and wasn't ready either to face the inevitable questions or even to receive the equally inevitable support.

I did have a few visits over the next months. Nash came over a few times, Jeff on his way to and from Oz and even Maximus when he was over in the East on a job for TOL sneaked a weekend off the books. I cannot pretend that I was hors-de-combat entirely. I toyed with inviting Lachlan - he was someone I had really always wanted to meet, but after bumping into him at that embarrassing sexathon I had engaged in at the Temple just after Terry left me, I somehow never got up the nerve to ask him again. I didn't imagine that he would be very impressed with a tart like me. I think I was also past the time for making new starts. Instead I clung to the few old friends that I thought I still had and licked my wounds.

From a distance I observed Terry, or at least Terry as revealed to me in the diaries of other sisters.  He would get by. He always does.  It was unlikely he would jump into a new relationship too quickly, whatever his initial bumbling about seemed to suggest. And he didn't. Just became typical Terry Thorne- threw himself into work and kept his feelings very close to his chest.

Time passed. Things changed for Maximus. He was alone again just as I and I gave him what support I could. It was so strange. There we were, the two lovers who had always wondered what we might have done if we were free- but when we were, we knew immediately that we would actually do very little beyond what we already had. I love him and he loves me but we both know we could not make it as a couple. He needs a very different kind of woman than I am and I have no desire to replace one master with another. It may be my fate to be a will-o'-the-wisp. It is how Maximus likes to see me; I will always be that for him, his wild, crazy mistress who gives him the abandoned passion that he rarely allows himself and is his friend and confidante. But never his 'wife' or 'partner'. We would rip each other to shreds with our contrasting wills.

So here I am- a year on and a whole lot wiser. I had heard Jack was in England and I fancied a trip home. So I asked for him.

He was waiting for me in the Arrivals Hall - I would have spotted him without the pull. There he was, standing like a rock, leaning slightly against a marble column, his hands on his hips and his eye scanning the passengers emerging with intense attention. The moment he saw me, a playful grin split his previously stern countenance. I pushed my luggage trolley up and then simply held him to me; he lifted me from the ground a few inches and rocked me to and fro.

My head buried in his neck, inhaling his clean fresh scent and cloaked by his hair which he wore loose today, I felt such a feeling of safe and secure - and realized that it was a sensation I had lacked for so long. My desire for independence might be strong but I still miss the companionship of a strong man at my side; it is an integral part of what I need, even if the two strands of my personality make for quite a dichotomy. But then- I'm a woman- and a very contrary one at that.

Gently rested back on my feet again, we said our hellos, a little shyly after the effusive welcome, and he tackled my luggage. "Follow me- I have transport." We were soon inside his car and hitting the crowded motorway. Jack drove without much conversation, apparently concentrating and moving at high speed; I made a few observations, to which he nodded or grunted assent, but frankly I was tired and glad of the opportunity simply to gather my thoughts after the long tedious flight.

It felt good to be home again after so long and I amused myself drinking in the familiar English scenes- suburbia flashing by, out of town superstores, fields and farms and then more towns. The landscape has the closed-in neatness of Europe, so different from the haphazard development of S.E. Asia. The weather was sunny but I felt cold and Jack put on the heater- my blood was thin and susceptible to fresh northern climes.

"Where to, Jack?" I muttered as he turned away from London down towards the West Coast.

"Does it matter, my pretty one?" he answered with a mysterious smile.

I shook my head. He was right. I didn't care where we went or what he had planned. It simply felt good to hand myself over to someone else to make the decisions from now on. "Roll up, roll up for the Magical Mystery Tour!" I sang. He clearly had never heard the Beatles' song, but smiled anyway.

"Let me carry you off to my secret hideaway!" he murmured and the idea suited me very well.

I must have dozed off then- it was an early morning flight arrival and my body told me it was already night. When I awoke it was lunchtime and we were pulling into a restaurant down a country lane by an old mill- very rustic. He parked and helped me out- I was still rather groggy.

It was a beautiful restaurant with a view over a river from the huge picture windows that dominated one wall. Beyond that were fields, an idyllic scene of cows grazing and farm houses scattered.

"Where are we, Jack?" I asked.

"Dorset."

"Hardy country? How perfect!" I clapped my hands and saw he did not know what I meant. "Thomas Hardy, the novelist, you know? After your time, I believe, but you should read him, Jack. I think you would identify with the country life he describes."

"I will sample him...I am always ready for new experiences..." Jack smiled back, "...although I was never much of a one for novels- I prefer to read biography and scientific journals," he added. I pulled a face.

We took our places, ordered a light lunch and a half bottle of Medoc; Jack is at last realizing that he cannot ignore drink-driving regulations, and I also knew that more than one glass and I would be unconscious, given my jetlag. Over the meal we began to talk- haltingly at first- but then more honestly as we both relaxed. Personal matters were left untouched but we spoke of the others and he filled me in on what he knew that hadn't featured in the diaries.

After lunch we took a little walk around the property and then set off on the road again. I found a channel on the radio with some light classical music that Jack would tolerate and we sank back into companionable silence. He tapped the rhythm on the steering wheel and occasionally sang along to a few bars or went 'pom, pom, pom,' absentmindedly. I smiled to myself and managed to doze off again.

It was late afternoon when I awoke and we were near the sea. I saw the road sign for Plymouth. I looked across at him. "Devon?"

"Nigh on Cornwall."

We drove until the early evening, almost to the very tip of England, to the Lizard Point- the most southerly of the United Kingdom- a wild and windswept seascape, jagged cliffs towering over tiny harbours hidden amongst treacherous swirling rocks- real smugglers' country. Here, at a place called Kynance Cove, a deep, green natural harbour on a sheltered beach of white sand, he has a house. It is perched on the cliff top facing the howling gales head on, like Jack at the mast, a large cottage of grey stone and whitewash.

"What is this place?" I gasped in amazement, almost blown away by the gust of wind eddying around; Jack pulled me into the lee of the cobbled courtyard.

"This is my home. I bought it a few months' ago," he shrugged. "I needed a base here in England. I have missed my homeland and wanted somewhere that provided me proximity to a quiet harbour where I can moor my yacht. To the east a few headlands away is Mullion. My boat is there."

"How long have you been here, Jack?" I asked, suddenly alert to the fact that he had been quiet recently. There had been few diaries mentioning him for ...months and come to think of it, only one visit that I knew of two months ago and there had been no diary about it- which is strange, when I come to think about it.

He hunched his shoulders, looked embarrassed, toed a clump of weeds growing between the cobbles. "A few months. I returned to America once I had completed the purchase and then sailed back after I had settled a few matters..."

"This has been your home? But I thought you were in ....?"

He shook his head. "Things have changed somewhat. It is a strange story and hard to credit but...we will talk anon. Let's unpack the car and settle in. I have some food...we can stock up tomorrow when you are rested."

Even before I knew the whole tale, I began to put a few things together in my mind. It was clear that Jack was completely alone here. It seemed beyond belief that our newest Brother, the man of the moment, should be living this reclusive existence on the edge of Europe and no one seemed to have even remarked it. I was ashamed to have been so wrapped up in my own problems that I had never even asked myself -'Where is Jack these days? Why does no one ever speak of him?'

Inside, the cottage was simply furnished but homely. A sailor is competent at many tasks that a land-lubbing man would eschew and I did not think Jack would have a problem with arranging his space as suited him. It was scrupulously clean, functional and bright, with a few unexpected touches- candles, flowers and some rather pretty prints on the walls of seascapes and woodlands.

He led me up the wooden staircase to the upper storey, to a large room that gave out over the sea. It contained nothing but a huge wooden bed and a wardrobe. How like a man! But there was a little vase of lavender on the window sill and I knew he had put it there for me. Tears sprang to my eyes at his thoughtful gesture. "I put your case in the other room- it will be out of the way. There is a bed there if you would prefer..." He coughed nervously and played with his hair.

I walked over to him and stroked his face with both hands. "Of course, I don't prefer...I came here to be with you. I want to be with you. Jack, don't be hesitant with me. Remember how it was? Before? When everything seemed so simple? I want to go back to those times. Take me back there, please?"

I tilted my face for his kiss and he did not disappoint me, taking my neck in his large hands and bringing me towards him. His kiss was soft and tender with a hint of passion; his tongue ran the seam of my lips and I opened and let him in. For long moments we stayed like that, kissing and exploring each other's mouths gently, our hands caressing each others' body at the same time.

"Mmmmmm," I broke away. "My head is spinning," I whispered. He chuckled and ran his knuckles down my face. "I need to shower, Jack, I've been in these clothes for two days now!"

"It wouldn't worry me- I came from a time when bathing was rare! But I respect your needs. The bathroom is next door. I'll go and prepare dinner while you complete your toilette...Uma, thank you for coming here. I have been so looking forward to it..." Again the slightly bashful smile, before he nodded and withdrew.

I wondered how long it had been since he had had a woman, suspecting it was probably some months already. It was quite a while for me, too, since I had visited with one of the Brothers and Jack's deep kiss had done more than make my head spin. We both needed this coming together, but a man like Jack would find it harder to articulate- he was no Hando. He wanted me because he knew I would give him uncomplicated sex and warm friendship at a time when, for reasons I was yet to fathom, he appeared to be alone. It was just what I needed, too. I have had enough of obsession and soul-destroying passion. Light romance and laughter, sexual abandon and FUN are what I need from now on. Jack Aubrey- why did it take so long for me to see?

The bathroom was Spartan, like much of the house: pale blue walls, white blinds at the small window, a large enameled bath with heavy brass taps, old but in good repair, a more modern glass shower cubicle in the corner, a white porcelain toilet and large rectangular wash basin. On a white cupboard there were a stack of blue and white striped towels. I stripped, grateful to peel off the jeans and T-shirt, not to mention the underwear.

There was plenty of hot water in the shower, but nothing but a bar of soap with which to wash- not even shampoo. I made a mental note for the shopping trip the next day. But soap was good enough and I felt refreshed and cleansed as I dried off and pulled a brush through my short blonde hair. I looked at the roots and made a mental note to get them touched up. I like being blonde. I like having short hair. I like that no one has the right to pull a face at what I wear or how I choose to keep my hair. From now on I would be as I wished to be and not make myself a plaything for men to mould and shape as they saw fit. Empowerment may not keep you warm in bed at night but it sure as shit makes you walk a little taller.

On the back of the door was a white towel robe. I expected it to be too large but it was not- this was a woman's size. Again I wondered at Jack's thoughtfulness. He would never have the need for such a thing, would he? I imagined him showering and shaving naked and wandering about in his natural state until necessity forced him to dress. The idea aroused me even further.

I wrapped myself up and shook out my tousled locks. My skin was lightly tanned and I decided not to bother with makeup; in fact I decided not to bother dressing at all. The robe would do and somehow I knew that it would not be long before we both had shed our initial inhibitions and took our frustrations out on each other's bodies. A rub of body lotion to leave my skin cool and fresh, a squirt of perfume and I was ready to bring some comfort to my beautiful host.

Padding downstairs, I found Jack in the roomy kitchen, modern oak wood fittings, stone floor and a large Aga range. I don't expect Jack cooks much but this was a great kitchen- I decided to try some of my limited skills out on him over the next few days. He was laying the wooden table with a hearty meal- roast chicken, a side of ham, crusty bread and a selection of salads and fruit. There was a chilled bottle of Chablis.

"Where did you put Killick?" I giggled mischievously.

"In the dog kennel, the best place for him!" Jack teased back.

"Well, you must compliment him on his table. I'm impressed."

Jack looked at me with a scarcely concealed prurience. "You didn't dress? Perhaps your feet will be cold on the flags?"

I sat down and motioned for him to do so. When he took his place, I slipped my feet along his knee to rest in his groin. "Then I must find a place to keep them warm!" He rubbed my cold toes between his warm hands and I burrowed further down into that warm berth between his legs. "But let's eat!"

We ate and drank liberally...started on a bottle of Burgundy with the cheese platter and took cognac with our coffee. The conversation became more flirtatious, I left my place and sat on his knee for dessert and we kissed in between mouthfuls of fruit, nuts and cheese and sharing the brandy from the same glass. His hand slipped into the robe and he fondled my breasts as we kissed. He groaned deep in his throat when he touched me. I took his other hand and placed it on my knee; he ran it up my leg and caressed the soft flesh of my inner thigh, resting lightly against my naked sex, kissing me all the while, the food forgotten in his rising ardour.

I could feel the hard pressure of his growing cock and the rocking of his groin against my buttocks as he fondled me. "Jack..." I whispered. "Don't hold back...you have waited too long. Take me hard and fast...I want that too...finesse later...passion first?"

I rose from his lap and stood before him letting the cord of the robe fall away and revealing my nakedness. His face showed his raging desire, scarcely contained, but he was trying hard not to let himself be carried away. I wanted him to be carried away. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to give myself to this man for immediate boarding - to have him fuck the living daylights out of me and blow away the cobwebs of the past sorry year.

I pushed away the remains of the plates and cleared a space on the end of the table. Throwing off the robe, I bent over it before him and parted my legs. "Jack- do it...just do it...don't think- just act!"

For a moment he hovered, looking, his fingers caressing the curves of my naked cheeks. Then he let a low purr from his throat and stood up in one lightening movement. I heard the metal claws of his zip as he wrenched it down and then felt his knee jam between my legs to widen them while his left hand took my hip and raised my buttocks to aid him. The thick hot hardness of his cock, tip moist already, rubbed against my damp, exposed slit and then he hitched and entered. I groaned at the intrusion- he was so big and I was as tight as a drum. His grunt and another thrust- I cried out again but rammed back against him, wanting this pleasure-pain. He took that as his sign. Dropping his hands to roughly seize my hips, he lunged and hilted, hardly giving me the chance to adjust before he began to fuck me - in and out, rotating his hips, pounding my walls at every angle. I could do nothing but let him go, and hung in his grip like a rag doll as he ploughed me, driven to near-insanity by his power and strength, filled to completion by him.

I felt the rising of my orgasm, clawed at the table; Jack dropped over me and took my hand and interlinked my fingers with his, a wonderfully tender act in the midst of such blinding passion. I arched and bucked, the contractions in waves, squeezing tight around his thrusting cock as he bellowed and shot his come deep within me and shuddered again and again, his hips banging me against the hard ridge of the table, his balls thwacking against my tenderness, sending aftershocks of intense pleasure until I could barely draw breath.

I heard my own panting like an animal and his raw grunts as we came down together from the high. He pressed deep within me, flexed and gently bent over me to cushion my hips with his hands from the hard wood table as he ground against me. His lips kissed the back of my shoulder and he muttered, "Oh, beautiful woman!"

I whispered back, "Oh, beautiful man!"

He eased from me and raised me up to turn me around and hold me to him. I picked up a table napkin and wiped clean his sticky cock while he watched me shyly and then took the cloth and cleaned between my legs gently. I rearranged him and zipped up his jeans, he wrapped me up again in the soft towel robe. Wordlessly he sat down and pulled me back to his knee and there we sat for quiet moment, stroking each other and kissing, nibbling at each other gently.

The room was so quiet, broken only by the chime of the sea clock on the mantelpiece announcing the hour. It was nine o' clock. Jack whispered, "Bed?"

I nodded and he picked me up, carrying me up the stairs like a little child, settling me in his massive bed before stripping and slipping in to join me. Naked, wrapped up together, we really talked, and I learnt of what had transpired these past months; I told him things about myself that only one other person knew. I think for both of us the catharsis of sexual release was only a prelude to the catharsis of emotional cleansing and I felt a weight lift from me that must have been there for a very long time. I hoped he gained the same solace.

I cried in his arms and he held me tight and then loved me again- all the frenzy gone now. He merely eased himself into my body and rocked me back and forth, a tenderness, until we both reached a gentle and less stormy coming. And then we fell asleep, worn out by travel, sex and confession. It was the deepest, most dream-free sleep I remember in many a long day.

 

 

May 2004

It was a warm mid-May afternoon, one of those heaty days that take you by surprise and remind you that the summer is near and long lazy days lie ahead. I lay back and watched the sky, scudding clouds above me, and wondered if this was nearing the Indian summer of my life and if autumn and winter were soon to follow and if my glory days were now behind me, too.

I stretched out my bare legs, still slightly tanned, a legacy to my former life in the East and the open air days I had spent this past month with Jack. The week had passed and I had lingered. There had been nothing to go back for. Jack had mentioned it one night as I had sat at his feet, reading, while he was playing something of Tchaikovsky. He likes the modern Romantics; they suit his sensual, passionate nature. Suddenly he took the violin and rested it down on his knee and said "Is your apartment in need of attention?" I shook my head. "Then...why go back? It will still be there when you finally do..." He gave me that pleased-with-himself look, his eyes flashing slightly, but his mouth in merely a hint of a smile. So I had stayed. I was still here. Almost four weeks already and I didn't want to leave. I just wanted to be.

The short pink sundress with its daisy pattern lay pushed up almost to my upper thighs and the front buttons were still open; my breasts were scarcely covered, a strange sensation passing though me. I had thought never to feel contentment again and yet here I was like a well-fed cow, grazing and dozing in a meadow on a warm afternoon. Perhaps there is a peace to be found in life after all and perhaps it comes in the end from within yourself?

I turned my head and observed Jack. He was on his left side, leaning on one elbow, his right leg bent. He was watching me, his hair hanging loose about his face, his expression serious, apart from the stalk of grass in his mouth that he was idly chewing. My eyes swept down his body, white loose collarless shirt, buttons open to the belt and the sleeves rolled up. I smiled at his brawny chest and the manly covering of hair. His black jeans were half fastened, the zip casually pulled up and the belt buckle undone. He was as post- coital as I was, lazy and languid, full of the scent and taste of each other and no need for words in this glorious aftermath.

Just then, he reached over and plucked a buttercup from beyond my head and held it to my chin. He smiled softly. "Ahh, so you like butter?" recalling the silly child's game.

I caught his hand and raised it to my lips, kissing his fingers gently while he stroked back my tousled hair and then ran his thumb along my chin, pensive and quiet.

"Penny for them, Jack?"

He sighed, rolled onto his back and lay beside me, staring at the same blue sky. "I don't know. I was thinking. Fanciful thoughts. Pay me no mind."

Intrigued at this other side of Jack, the melancholy Jack, who did exist beneath the ready smile and bluster, I turned over and rested on his chest, touched his face, brushing back his golden hair with my fingers. "What is it? You can tell me. I want to know what troubles you, really I do."

But he shook his head, captured my fingertips in his hands and placed a kiss there. "No. Not now. One day. Perhaps."

He deserves my respect for all he has done for me; I will not push him until he is ready. However, I also do not intend to let him carry his burdens alone. I am not a fool. Whatever turmoil has been going on in my life, I also know that he has faced his own problems and I honestly do not know where he stands in his personal life now. "When you're ready, Jack...you know I'll be here for you?"

He looked fondly at me but did not reply, instead rising to his knees and buttoning up his shirt, zipping up his pants and arranging his belt before standing and staring out to sea. We were in a field on a cliff above the Cornish coastline and ahead of us lay- well, nothing really. Somewhere out there were the Scilly Islands but basically there was just the Atlantic and nothing but sea until America.

Despite the pleasant afternoon, the sea was white-flecked and rough and I saw him watching with his seasoned eye and casting a glance to the sky; he licked a finger and held it up to the breeze. "The wind is turning, the breeze is carrying a storm. I think the fine spell is about to break. Come, I don't want you to catch a chill in that scrap of a dress."

He extended a hand and pulled me to my feet, drew me close, fastening up my buttons with a grin while I brushed down the skirt. Then he bent down and retrieved an object from the grass. "I believe these are yours, madam," he teased and held out my little white panties; I snatched them from him with a feigned annoyance. He merely laughed as I hopped into them and told him to turn round and be a gentleman- of course, he did no such thing, instead tilting his head and giving me a wink.

I finished dressing and folded up the blanket that we had been lying on, while he took it from me and carried it along with the picnic hamper back to the car. Already I could feel the wind rising and a chill on my bare arms and legs. Throwing a jacket over my shoulders, I jumped in next to Jack and we hit the bumpy road back off the headland and down to the main route.

Cornwall is a beautiful county, archetypal rural England. The rolling fields, tiny thatched cottages, neat little flower bedecked villages, impossibly quaint and pretty coastal towns with tiny harbours full of yachts and boats, all seem redolent of a bygone age and I understand well why Jack was so at ease here in this countryside. He drove slowly, unusual for him as he is often impatient with speed limits and any obstacle to his innate tendency to keep moving and reach his destination. Something was different in his mood today; again I noticed that he was far away and something was on his mind.

I had felt it even when we had made love there on the cliff high above everything on that sunny afternoon. He was gentle and amorous but there was no evidence of that lusty full-blooded coupling that has always featured so highly in our times together. Furthermore he was quiet where he is normally fairly vocal, either in crude encouragement or in natural response to pleasure. No, today he had been gloriously loving but soft, so soft, and silent, just breathing heavily and sighing deeply as I whimpered and cried in his arms.

I looked across at him and wondered if he was finding this time a burden. Perhaps I had stayed too long. Overstayed my welcome? Let's face it- I'm not the easiest of options at the moment, am I?  Woman coming off the back of a rather bitter break up, and not exactly the wild hurricane of her former days? My problems are not Jack's- he has plenty of his own- and I suppose he just feels awkward and is being kind to me. I was so grateful for his presence, delighted so much in being here with him, but understood that perhaps I was simply too big a deal for light romance and flirtation these days. I shouldn't have imposed on him for so long.

I switched on the car radio and settled back to listen to some easy middle-of-the-road music; Jack leaned his right arm out of the open window and raked the fingers of his left hand through his long blond hair. An old song played out and I began to sing the words softly:

 

 
"Is it?" Jack suddenly broke in to my dreamy mood.

"Is what?" I asked, still far away in the song lyrics.

"Over now," he replied quietly. 

I turned my head and wrinkled up my nose, unsure what exactly he meant. "Is what over now?" I asked again. Jack motioned towards the radio.

 

 

"Do you mean...me and ...? It's been over a long, long time, Jack. You know that." I whispered softly.

"Do I? Precisely how do I know that? Do you still wake up lonely every morning and dream of him? Is that what lies in your secret heart? The desire to one day find your way back?"

I shook my head and placed a hand on his arm. "I wake up lonely, Jack. Most of the time, I am alone. Tell me how you feel when you open your eyes every morning in that lonely place on the cliff top? Does it mean you want to go back - or that you wish you could go forward? I don't know. I just don't want to think that my life is over now. I'm still young enough to hope that there's something more out there for me. You know?"

He nodded, said nothing in response and we drove on some more. Suddenly he asked with a tentative smile, "Could we take a room down here for the night? I am in no mood for a long drive back and feel like more decorous surroundings for once. A bit of luxury. Can you manage without a change of clothes?"

"Who needs knickers anyway?" I grinned. "I'll manage. And we don't exactly use pyjamas, do we? Yes, let's stay over. Find a pretty inn with a sea view and have an unexpected night away. What fun!"

 

 

We found our hotel, hardly a guest house- but you know Jack's taste- it was a Georgian manor house set in a country park with a sweeping view of sea from the windows of our suite. The restaurant had 5 Michelin stars and Jack seemed satisfied that it was up to his rigorous gastronomic standards. The Reception looked a little suspicious at our lack of luggage and rather casual dress but did not turn us away; Jack's supercilious stare and raised eyebrow when the young man on the desk said "No cases, Sir?" seemed enough to quell any objections. When he asked for the suite and ordered a bottle of Dom Perignon to be brought up immediately, the management soon stopped beefing about the appearance of a long-haired jeans-clad man and a waif of a scantily dressed woman in their opulent halls, and we were accorded the first class treatment.

In the suite, I took a bath in the sunken marble pool. It was big enough for a family. I called through: "Jack..., room for one more!" Jack looked in at me with a devilish grin before stripping down to join me.

We lay at opposite ends of the enormous bath and sank down gratefully into the warm scented foam. Jack slipped down to wet his hair and then surfaced, golden and dripping, like a large Labrador dog, shaking droplets of water all over me; I burst out laughing. "Jack! You have the displacement of a ship of the line!"

He chuckled and grabbed for me, dunking my head under playfully and pulling me into his arms. "That is the problem with water, my dear, it is wet!" he laughed heartily as I spluttered and coughed. He stroked back my hair and raised me to his height; I settled between his legs, anchoring myself on his broad shoulders.

"I need oxygen!" I insisted. "Kiss of life!" He obliged, kissing me deep and long, tongue tanglingly intimate, sensuous and loving. I felt my heart melt into him. It was so wonderful to feel that sense of someone caring for me again. Someone who was not just on a visit but who actually wanted to be with me simply because...because why? Because he was lonely, too? Were we just two lonely people finding in each other a shelter from the storm?

I curled up against his chest and he held me close, washing me gently with cupped hands full of water and then soap. I did the same for him. Intimate attention. The touch of a lover on naked flesh. Allowing him into something almost more private than my sexuality. We did not make love, although I knew Jack was aroused, but both of us seemed lazy - or perhaps unhurried. This was almost more fun- simply being together as a couple, rather than the two sex-starved people we had been most of the stay so far.

Bath time over, I wrapped up in a robe and curled up on the large armchair by the window while Jack wandered about with a towel around his waist, opening champagne and handing me a glass. He stood above me and watched the sea.

"Do you miss it so?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Every day. It was a hard and unforgiving existence but it was my world and I understood it like nothing else in life. It was my mother, father, mistress, friend, child and enemy. I was never comfortable on the land, as you know, yet now I am confined to land and in a time alien to me. Considering my past history, 'tis a wonder I have not been locked up by now for some tomfoolery!" His wry smile saddened me. He looked so vibrant and alive, strong chest and sturdy body, manly face topped with the damp golden hair- it was hard to imagine anything fazing him and yet I know that many things confused him. At sea his mind was clear and sure- there his focus and his knowledge were untouched by doubts and lack of clarity.

"Why don't you take a long voyage? Is there anything really stopping you now?" I asked of him.

"I am thinking of doing just that. A very long voyage- I might be away for months- even years. What do you think?" he asked suddenly turning his startling blue gaze on me.

I frowned, unsure how to answer that. "We would miss you so, but I don't think any of us would try to stop you. We all understand how you feel. Would Stephen accompany you?"

He laughed. "Good God, no! The very idea of having to man a yacht single-handed and watch he didn't fall in every five minutes is quite beyond all imagining. I'm afraid I might have been able to cope with my good friend on a crowded man o' war but never in a tiny schooner!"

"So you would go alone then?" I asked him quietly.

"Yes...I think alone," he looked down at the delicate champagne flute in his thick hands and swirled the residue.

"I wish you would take someone. You should not be alone," I whispered and reached out to touch his hand.

"Alone? I was always alone, even in a ship teeming with men. A captain's lot was a solitary one and even Stephen was not able to share my burden. I am well used to it, my dear." His quiet acceptance crushed me- there was something unbearably sad about his words and again, as before, I felt as though there was things unspoken that I was not reading. But he went on: "On the subject of loneliness, Uma, I want to ask you something. It has been much on my mind of late. How are you faring? You should not be alone so much. A woman needs a man to protect her..." he looked awkward and embarrassed to be raising such a topic, but he still said what he had to say.

"Jack! This is the year 2004- not 1804! And may I remind you that your wife ran a home and raised three children almost single-handed without her man around over much!"

He winced but fought his corner. "Her mother, sister, servants, retainers, groom, gardener, companions, relatives...the house was bursting at the seams with people...you live alone far away with very little contact with anyone these days. I worry for you. It is not right, whatever you say. Have you not considered...?" he stopped and walked away, running a hand through his damp locks and pouring himself another glass of champagne.

"Have I never considered what?" I responded.

"Forgive me, 'tis not my place..."

"Jack, finish the sentence - don't leave me hanging!"

He cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his stubble. "You have the right to ask for another Number One- should anyone be free whom you desire. I know it may be too soon...but...Maximus...surely it would be a perfect choice for both of you? He loves you- always has- and you love him. You know each other well and would understand the nature of....I don't know how to phrase this. But it is what everyone expects. Why tarry when it is just a matter of time? He would be the best protector for a woman..."

"What everyone expects, eh? What do other people ever really know? Even in a world as open and free as the one we inhabit? I will not discuss my relationship to Maximus with you or anyone else - but let me say this. We have spoken and we have come to an understanding. He will never be my Number One. Frankly neither of us wishes it now that the chance has come. He has his freedom and, in truth, I think he values it at last. And so do I. Maximus would just become another obsession, another chain to bind me. That is the kind of man he is. That is the kind of love he expects. I no longer have that in me to give. I have no wish to re-enact the past with another man. Does that make any sense?"

"I am not sure it does for me- but then, I am not very skilled in these matters. Love was always a mystery to me. I loved my wife- but left her alone most of the time. I loved my children - but had little notion of what to do or say to them. I loved several women - but it was mostly amorous adventure and we never really knew each other. I'm not sure I am actually capable of the kind of love you describe. My nature is too sanguine and in the moment. Fidelity and commitment were always strange bedfellows for me."

I stroked his face and chucked his chin. "Why Jack Aubrey- how can you say such a thing! You are a man full of love and sensibility and emotion! But perhaps you are less given to philosophical contemplation and morose musings than others. You accept what you have before your eyes and know that tomorrow often offers us little in comparison- so let's live for today. Then I say- good for you! That is just the kind of man for a woman like me!"

His head tilted sharply and an unexpected look came over him. It was a dark and hooded expression, achingly sexual, predatory man, steamy and disturbing but oddly full of longing. I looked away, momentarily flustered by his sudden intensity. Then I saw him almost shake himself, before forcing a smile and a definite change of subject. "I'm ravenous. A man must not wait for sustenance - it is the devil for his constitution. Ready yourself, Uma, - we will dine promptly at seven. Excuse me, I must dress."

He withdrew to the bathroom where he must have shaved, before dressing in the clothes he had discarded earlier. By the time he returned I was neatly changed back into my cotton dress and had arranged my hair up to attempt at some style. A touch of lipstick, and we made our way down to the restaurant.

 

*

 

We dined well and passed a romantic and flirtatious evening together, the hint of melancholy in Jack's mood appearing to have dissipated. After dinner we sat and held hands on a terrace, he drinking cognac and smoking a good cigar, me sipping a cocktail and leaning against his arm watching the night sky. The rain was falling, lightning still flashing over the sea, and it was the first cool for several days- a welcome respite from the clammy heat. A singer was crooning softly in the background as we sat in a peaceful silence:

 

 

I murmured, "That's me. In the arms of an angel. You're like an angel to me, Jack! All golden and perfect and everything good and kind...safe and secure..."

He made an amused sound in his throat. "A rather big ugly angel...can't see me on top of the tree, somehow!"

I chuckled and burrowed closer against him as we listened to the words of the song.

 

 

"Are we fooling ourselves, Jack? Are men and women always seeking for something that is never attainable? Some ideal pattern in our head of how love should be that doesn't actually exist?" I mused.

There was silence and then he muttered, "Not the way I would put the question entirely. I believe now it can exist. But it is often unrequited. No matter how much one wishes it to be different, you cannot shape another human to your will." I thought I understood his meaning then but later I realized I had missed it completely. However I recognised that he was right enough- when are men and women ever on quite the same wavelength?

We returned to our room hand-in-hand and as soon as the door closed, we reached for each other in the dark. Jack uncovered me slowly with only the moon for a light. I stood naked before him as he looked at me and sighed, tilting up my face to his and smiling. "I shall remember you like this. My Aphrodite of the night..."

"Artemis...or Diana depending if you are Greek or Roman..." I interrupted.

Jack chuffed. "Am I bedding Stephen tonight? Good Lord, you do have his bookish turn of phrase, my love! I have never known a woman I was about to tup give me a lesson in classical reference..."

I giggled and threw my arms around him. "Your dream woman, Jack! Thinks like Stephen and fucks like Diana. Go on admit it...!"

At that he simply picked me up and carried me to the bed, dumping me unceremoniously in the middle, and ripped off his clothes. But once he joined me, as naked as I, his mood softened again and we sat on that bed, me on his lap, legs wrapped around him, and kissed and touched tenderly under the silvery light. When he laid me back against the pillows and rose over me, I thought how utterly magnificent he was, like some sun god, his hair ripe and golden, his body bronzed and weathered- all that a man should be in brawny splendour. I felt like a tiny slip of woman in his hands.

"I am Diana of the night and you are Apollo of the sun!" I whispered into his ear as he buried himself within me and rotated his hips sensuously. Slow and steady he rose and fell above me, pulling my legs around his waist as I pushed and tightened against him. The look of utter pleasure on his face was as much an aphrodisiac as the delicious sensation of his mighty cock driving and stabbing against my sensitivity. In the dark of that night, summer rain lashing down, the crack of thunder and the bright slash of lightening, the elemental beauty of nature washing the parched earth as Jack Aubrey bathed me in his spuming cream and brought me to unimagined heights of ecstasy. Afterwards, lying there in the dim room, bodies close and hands and fingers still entwined, I watched him as he slept and felt such a tug of emotion for this great bear of a man with the gentle heart of a musician.

Morning dawned and the warm sun was back, leaving only a distant memory of last night's tempest. I woke to the delicious sensation of Jack holding me from behind and rubbing unconsciously against my naked buttocks; in a short while he was groaning and leaning me forward to enter from behind in lazy morning style, his face pressed against my neck.  He is so big and strong and the intrusion of his large cock on the already tender flesh made me gasp; he merely held me close and thrust deeper, still almost half asleep and muttering in his dreams. I floated in this somnolent state as he rocked back and forth, heard his half-enunciated whispers and almost drifted back to sleep, content to be joined to him in this way, unconcerned for orgasm or sexual gymnastics.

"Oh Lord, how I adore you..." I heard his muttered comment; it was a declaration Jack was not given to making. It startled me to wakefulness. "I love you, do you know how I love you?" His words made me freeze- was this some product of his befuddled sleeping brain or perhaps he thought he was with someone else? But he began to thrust more deeply and more powerfully, grabbing at my hip bone to force me against him and running his fingers around to stimulate my clitoris with a low purr at the feel of me so wet and open to him. I soon forgot his strange ramblings, too selfish in my own orgasm.

 

 

It was my last day and we were returning to London; I had a late flight. All day long, Jack had seem distracted and pensive and I kept having the impression that he was about to say something to me but then changing the subject. I packed up my luggage and Jack stowed it in the boot of the car; we got in and he drove us to London. The journey was passed in a rather false gaiety; we chatted about nothing much, joked and teased - but there was an underlying feeling of falseness about it all that I couldn't put my finger on. It was at the airport just before I checked in that the penny finally dropped.

"Wait, Uma...I need to talk to you. Let us have a coffee," he indicated a Starbucks and we wheeled the luggage over. He brought over two cups and we sat down. For a while he stirred his thoughtfully, and then he sighed and seemed to make up his mind.

"I have to tell you something before you go. No, I have to ask you a question. A form of hypothetical question...if I may..."

"Jack...spit it out. I've a plane to catch!" I muttered.

"Just so...just so...imagine, if you will, that a man had a friend and this friend was attracted to a woman and this woman was attracted to another man...so he thought, although she claimed she was not...but he was not sure...Would he be better advised to tell the woman, declare himself whether or no he might have a rival for her affections, or to hold his peace and play the waiting game, always aware that in doing so he might miss the tide and then the woman would be committed elsewhere, not even with the original suitor maybe, and he would have missed his golden opportunity..."

"Jack...shut up! I haven't got a clue what you're on about! Look, is there some Sister you fancy? Is this about a Number One? Who? Who's unattached....is this about Heather? Do you think she's after Dino? Do you want her to consider you?"

"Heather? I have only met her once or twice in company- I hardly know her at all - and I never said it was I, I said I was speaking on behalf of a friend...what makes you think this is about me?"

I gave him a look. "Those kinds of things are always about the speaker, Jack, everybody knows that...the moment you said 'hypothetical'..."

Jack frowned. "Good God. Am I that obvious?" and shook his head. "Well, then I shall be frank. My question is simple." He stopped and then took a deep breath, pursing his lips in thought and then began, his eyes earnest and taking my hand in his. "You say you are over your...ahem...affection for Terry Thorne. You say that you and Maximus have no future as partners...then may I suggest something you may not have considered? You are alone and in need of company and I am most inclined to offer myself as your champion....I would not interfere with your life and other relationships in any way, as I know you would not interfere with mine. We are very compatible- friends but also lovers...in and out of our bedchamber we are merry and open...we laugh a lot and have the same love of life...Uma, would you ask for me as your Number One?"

I sat in dumbstruck horror at his rambling declaration. "I beg your pardon? Oh Jack...Oh My God...I never expected... I can't answer that...I just can't...forgive me, Jack...I have to go...please, don't follow me...I need to be alone...I'm so sorry...so very, very sorry..."

And I grabbed my bag and the trolley and hurtled out of there like the devil was on my tail. Across the crowded concourse, I made my way to the check-in desk but I just couldn't cope with what he had said. I was completely stunned. Making my way instead to the ladies' restrooms, I sat down on a bench and pulled out my phone. You know who I called.

"I have to see you."

"I beg your pardon? Uma? Is that you? Where are you?"

"Heathrow. Where are you?"

"I am not free. You cannot come."

"I have to come! Please!"

"Uma...I am at work and this is a dangerous place, I will not have you here."

"Where?"

"Romania"

"I'll be on the next flight to Bucharest."

"UMA!"

"....I have to see you...please...I'm coming anyway and if I get raped or something it will be your fault you didn't meet me at the airport..."

I heard his tsk of temper. "Twenty four hours. No more."

I giggled. "Wow...you discovered Tantric sex?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Is this some sexual game- because I have no time for it...."

"Of course it isn't, I was just teasing... I have a really awful problem..."

He sighed. "I understand -but I am in no mood for silliness...Call me when you have a flight time. One day only - and then you are out of here. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Oh Great Master..."

"Any more of that and I will change my mind."

"Bet you don't...." I hung up and smiled into the receiver. Maximus. Who else?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He picked me up at the airport and ushered me briskly to a waiting black Mercedes, whisking me to his hotel. It was an imposing, almost imperial monstrosity, The Athenee, no doubt a throwback to the opulent money-wasting days of the former Ceaucescu regime. He threw his car keys to a waiting attendant and indicated that my luggage should be taken to his suite. Then he took my arm and steered me into an elevator. We stood facing across the small plush space and stared each other out. I could see the tic in his cheek that was his only sign of emotion apart from the slight clouding in his eyes.

I leant back and let his smouldering masculinity wash over me and felt the inevitable rising of the pressure gauge to boiling point. It was already a very hot day but even here, in the air-conditioned splendour of a five star hotel, I was warm and moist and already at his beck and call. If I needed any confirmation that Maximus was not the right man for me then I had it now. Together we would tear each other apart, a mix of unbridled lust and jealousy - but it didn't make me want him any less though.

The doors parted. He said "This way," and pointed down the corridor. I walked ahead feeling his gaze boring into me and trying not to tremble. He inserted the key card in the lock with a swipe of brisk authority and even that seemed loaded with sexual meaning to me. I stepped in, the bell boy depositing the suitcase, Maximus tipped him and handed a 'Do Not Disturb' notice for him to hang on the door knob as he left. The door swung closed.

"Come here." That was all he said. 

Moments later we were locked together as he kissed me feverishly and frantically tore away my clothes; I was pinned to the door and unable to do anything much other than hang on and enjoy his rabid passion. He hoisted me up while I unfastened his shirt and wrapped my legs round his waist. He carried me to the bed- I kissed him as if I was feasting on him, my hands raking through his hair and over the strong muscles of his neck and shoulders. He laid me on the bed and stripped, standing before me with his erect cock jutting above me; I knelt up and stroked him; he groaned and pushed me away, preferring to lie back against the head board and pull me to him again.

Head buried in his naked groin, I savoured him, tormented him, sucked and nibbled and laved and flickered until he was helpless and writhing. I knew he was near; I also knew he wouldn't come yet. With one roar, he eased me away and dragged me to him, kissed me while his hands opened me and I felt his thick finger enter me to frot my tenderness "Oh God!" I gasped.

"Great Venus!" he muttered. I can't remember the details then. Just pleasure. Toe-curling waves of mind-blowing sensation and his body driving into me over and over and over and me crying "Stop! No--- don't stop! Max....OH MAXXXXX!"

So, a pretty normal 'First time after ages not seeing each other fuck' for Max and me. It was ever thus. Later - actually quite a long time later - after the best of a bottle of wine and some less frenetic love making, we were lying together in the wrecked bed, the curtains still wide open and the first signs of night in the sky.

"So...you have a problem..." Maximus began.

"Hmmmmm," I murmured..."I can't get any sign of life out of it..." I teased. Maximus removed my hand from his groin.

"I need a while and don't be so demanding," but he grinned and pulled me closer. "You didn't come here for this alone. Your problem," he reminded me.

"Well...it's a more of a dilemma," I replied.

He shifted in the bed slightly. "So there are two men involved, not one?"

I wriggled in his arms to face him. "What do you mean? I never said it was a man- never mind two men. Why do you always think anything to do with me is about men?"

Maximus shrugged. "Because you are clever enough to solve other problems but have a most charming knack of getting yourself into all sorts of mischief with men- and then invariably asking me to help you out of them." He gave me his smug smile.

"That is such a load of old cobblers. You're the man who gives me the most problem anyway- so don't start thinking otherwise..."

He held up his hand. "We only have until the morning. Get to the point. So it isn't a man? Or two men- but it is a dilemma?"

I reached for my handbag and helped myself to a cigarette; he tutted and handed me an ash tray- he is such a pain at times. Inhaling deeply and then blowing out, I began. "Well...Jack Aubrey..."

"Who is a man..."

"Well, yes...of course he is. I spent some time with him recently. In fact recently I have seen quite a lot of him..."

"I know. Is this leading anywhere? I don't want to hear the details..."

"Don't flatter yourself. Jack Aubrey...well, to put it bluntly, Jack has asked me to be his Number One."

Maximus looked completely unsurprised by my shock revelation. "You came all this way to tell me that? And I thought the rule was that it was the Sisters who made that choice?" he added tartly.

I snorted. "Yeah...like you bother about rules any more than I fucking do?" I snapped back.

"Stop swearing. Let's see if you can tell the story without profanity." I pulled my tongue out at him and he raised his eyes.

"Well, he asked me."

"And you replied?"

"I didn't. I ran away...to you..."

He ran his hands down his face in exasperation. "You mean you just left him standing there like a fool and gave him no reply? What is the matter with you?"

"I didn't know what to say!"

"Yes. No. That about sums it up," he answered.

I dragged on the cigarette, stamped it out on the ashtray and blew the smoke in his face. "Well, that's a lot of help!"

"I can't answer this for you! What is it that bothers you? You don't love him? You're still pining for Thorne? You've changed your mind about me? You don't want a Number One?"

"Can't you be more gentle with me- I'm suffering here!"

"No, actually I can't. Because I'm a man and that's all I can say. Is there someone else?"

"NO!"

"Certe?"

"YES!"

"Then you don't want him?"

"Well, not exactly...I just didn't want anyone really. I mean...I don't want to go through it all again. It's so fu...so darn hard when it falls apart. I can't keep picking up the pieces of my heart again and again..."

He puckered his lips in thought. "You cannot run from love. Either you feel it or you don't. If he loves you and you love him then it is already too late- you will suffer with or without him. Answer me this. Are you afraid of living with a man again? Do you shrink from that kind of intimacy? You have no fear of your body but...do you want to look after this man? Cook for him (a formidable task, I would agree), launder his clothes, support him when he is low, take care of him when he is ill, see all his faults and put up with his idiosyncracies? If you can't say yes to those then you do not want to be his partner- just remain his mistress and show only your false good side, and ask for only his."

I considered his words. "I show you my bad side."

He smiled warmly and touched my face. "I know- to my cost. We are a different thing, you and I. Do not complicate this issue."

I thought again. "I love to be with him. He just makes me feel so safe and happy...he's so easy to live with, and yes, I want to look after him. He needs looking after...he's very capable but sort of...lost."

"You make him sound like a puppy. Is this some kind of cause you're taking on as a bulwark against real emotion?" Maximus asked brusquely, giving me no quarter.

"NO! Jack isn't like that- how can you say such a thing! He is everything to me...like my best friend and my companion and my love and he just makes me happy and I could spend the rest of my life in his arms but yet...I want him to be free... and he never limits me, either - he is quite perfect and he makes me laugh with his stupid jokes and he is so virile and manly in bed....and...."

Maximus cleared his throat, "Spare me, I beg you, Uma. You have just answered your own question. What do you want me for? You love this man. He is perfect. So is this just fear of failure that makes you run? Because I always thought there was more about you than that..."

"Oh Maximus- you are so clever- I knew you would make me see! Imagine here I am naked in bed with you and you just simply show me how much I love another man- isn't our world so amazing?"

I was greeted by one of Max's supercilious glares at that point.  He opened his mouth to reply but his cell phone rang. He pointed to the chair where he had thrown his pants and I found myself obediently hopping to retrieve it for him. I opened it but he leant over and grabbed it from my hand before I could speak, and then put his finger to my mouth to quiet me.

"Fuck!" Max rarely swears in front of me, except when he is in the throes of passion - and then it is never in English. So I knew this was bad. "Get dressed- now! You have to be out of this room in five minutes- every sign of you, you hear me?"

"WHAT?"

"Do not argue. Get dressed, now! I'll put you in a taxi back to the airport from where you take the first available plane out of Romania. Is that clear?"

He picked up my clothes, handed them over and then started to dress himself. "Why? Is something dangerous going down...some bad man coming here to drop a cargo off?" I laughed at his sudden serious frame of mind and the undercover behaviour he was exhibiting.

"No. Not a bad man. Just someone you don't want to meet. Especially not while you are in my bed."

"Who?"

"My boss."

"Jesus Christ - Terry!" I have never dressed quite as quickly in my life. He gathered my belongings and hurried me down the stairs.

"If he finds any Sister here he will have my balls- but you? You imagine his reaction..." Maximus smiled at the abject look of horror on my face. "So...I was correct after all. Your dilemma...it did turn out to be two men, didn't it?" He hailed a cab and helped me inside, stowing my luggage and handing some money to the driver with curt instructions given in Romanian. Then he bent in at the open window and kissed me softly. "I wish you well, Uma, both you and Jack. This is so good for you both. Go back and love him as you should. As you need. As you deserve." He smiled softly.

"Maximus...I worry about you...what about you...? I don't want you to be alone..." I began.

"I am not alone. I am happy. Things are changing...one day soon I will explain...now go - quickly!"

He stepped away and banged on the roof to tell the driver to move off. I watched him fondly, blowing him a kiss and holding my hand to my heart. His semen was still leaking from me and I ached with the bruise of his cock. I love him and wish we could have found happiness together although it was not to be - but what had he meant about things changing? I pondered that for a while but was soon caught up in my own affairs. Jack. I had to find him and tell him how I really felt. I just had to.

                                                              

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The journey was pretty tortuous. I took a one a.m. flight to Paris, picked up a four thirty flight to London and then took the 7.45 commuter express to Plymouth changing for Falmouth and then a taxi to Kynance Cove. It was hellish; I was exhausted having had no sleep, and I was increasingly jumpy. How would Jack have responded to my brutal rejection of him? I thought I knew already. What he always did. Whenever things got hot for him on the land.

Run away to sea.

The house was locked up; no sign of life at all. My heart sank. At the back of my mind, I was sure that he would have done the other

I sat down at the kitchen table and clutched a jumper of his that was thrown casually over the back of a chair. It smelt of him. That's when the tears came. I buried my face in the wool and lay my head on the table and wept. A second chance handed me on a plate. The man who could keep me safe from harm. The one who made it better. Jack...the man I loved. I had simply failed to recognise the obvious signs - and now I had lost him, too. I felt like that silly quote from The Importance of Being Earnest... (and I paraphrase...) To lose one man might be considered a misfortune, two a tragedy - but three? That is downright careless...

Mopping up my face and sniffing, rummaging in my bag for a tissue, I suddenly had a thought. He might have mailed me. As far as he knew, I was on a flight to S.E. Asia and he would perhaps have left some notice of his intentions. I ran to his PC and switched on, grateful that Jack has such a rudimentary grasp of the electronic age that he would never remember his own password, so nothing is difficult to access. Logging on Yahoo, there it was. A mail from Jack. My heart pounded as I read it.

 

 

I could hardly read the mail- my eyes were awash in tears and I was sobbing fit to burst. Too late. Too late. Too late.

Evening tide. It was late afternoon. Evening tide. He hasn't gone yet. Where was he? Mullion? I thought of the little harbour a few coves away and wondered if I should simply run across the headland as being the fastest way to reach there. I had no transport. Jack's car was not here- he must have left it with someone at the harbour. The road was circuitous and even though I might be able to flag down a passing car, if I couldn't it would take several hours to walk there that way. No- it must be across the cliff tops. It was the only way. I ran out, wearing exactly what I had arrived in- hardly the gear for running across country. I was in a floaty voile dress by Ghost, comfortable for traveling and femininely sexy enough for a man like Maximus...a denim jacket and strappy sandals. I'm not sure why I didn't change - probably I was so frantic that the idea simply never occurred to me.

Outside I charged down to the headland along the rough pebble path. The warm day was overcast now and a strong breeze was blowing in across the sea; I could see the white-flecked foam and the deep swell and by now knew enough about the sea to realize that bad weather was coming in. Looking up at the sky, grey clouds lowering, I felt the first drops of rain on my face: large plump droplets, a real heavy fall bursting from the hanging clouds. As I ran for the cliffs, the heavens opened and I was drenched in moments, water running down my face and neck, the light loose dress clinging to my legs, the shoes clogging in the grass and muddy path.

Dragging my hands through my sodden locks I kept on stumbling forward, crying as if I wasn't wet enough. I'd never make it. I'd probably get blown off the cliff top in this howling wind. They'd find my body smashed on the rocks days later. It was like a scene from Wuthering Heights. I have a romantic and overly dramatic nature as it is and was in danger of almost wallowing in the poignant melodrama when....

Far below me, in the little deep water shelter of Kynance Cove, I saw the yacht. Oh my God...he had been here all the time, probably fitting the boat and making his last minute checks. Oh my God!

I screamed his name but through the gale and the rain there was no way he could have heard me- and there was no sign of him on deck. I mean- he wouldn't exactly sit up top in this storm, would he? Retracing my steps, I found the path to the cove and ran hell-for-leather down it, slipping and sliding, shouting his name, crying, sobbing until I was down on the jetty. I couldn't raise him. There was no response. I looked at the yacht and saw the distance. It wasn't far. I'm a good swimmer. Even if the sea did look rough, it was still a sheltered cove. I could make it, climb aboard and find him.

I'm not very sensible at the best of times but at that moment I was so completely off my head that I would probably have jumped into a bear pit if it had got me back to Jack. So I stood there, stripped to my under wear and ran to the end of the little pier. And dived.

Just as I hit the water I thought I heard my name shouted but the crash of the impact as I hit the deep cold water knocked almost all feeling and conscious thought from my body. These waters are ice cold at any time of year and a wet suit is usually required in the deeper harbours. I gasped with shock and then felt the undertow grab me and whirl me out with the current. Vainly I struggled to surface, my lungs bursting but I was so cold that my legs and arms were refusing to move. I began to feel light-headed, almost dreamy, and idle thoughts skittered past my eyes. Jack...I could see him so handsome, standing on the deck of the boat on a fine spring day, intent on lecturing me on some finer points of rope-tying or some other nautical facts and I simply staring and loving him, incapable of following the complex lecture...that was such a lovely day when we....

Rough hands seized me and my body was hurtled back to the surface, the icy cold returned, my mouth full of the briny tang of salt water, the rain hammering like needles on my skin as I gulped at the bracing air ,spluttering and coughing and... I breathed. I was alive. Someone had hold of me. I was moving steadily back towards the shore against the swirling current, held in powerful arms, dragged by a stronger swimmer than I would ever be.

We hit the wooden jetty and I was hauled up, scraping my body on the coarse wooden planks and indecorously plonked face down on the walk way. I scrambled helplessly, aware that my saviour was climbing nimbly up beside me and then taking me by the underarms and raising me to my feet. I took one look at him and my knees buckled, he caught me and swung me up in his arms.

"Jack? Jack...I'm going to throw up...." And I did. He slickly returned me to my feet and bent me at the waist; I vomited a few gallons of sea water unceremoniously back into the water and coughed and groaned.

"Better now? Come, I have to get you inside. You are blue with the cold...it is almost more dangerous than the drowning..."

I could do nothing but curl up in his arms as he carried back up the cliff path to the cottage. Inside he stripped off my wet underwear and wrapped me in towels, rubbing me fiercely to stimulate my nerve ends to warm me up. But I still shivered and my teeth chattered. I was so cold. He took me to the bathroom and ran a hot bath, all the while massaging me and loading even more blankets on top of me. He must have been cold himself- I could see the goosed flesh on his naked chest and the blue tinge to his lips but he seemed insensible to everything. I felt so sleepy and he kept shaking me and talking to me - but I couldn't quite understand what he was saying....

Then heat. Hot water....I gasped as he lowered me in. It was too hot. It made my skin tingle and sting. I complained. He made me stay there and then he climbed in next to me and held me and we lay there while he talked and talked and talked and suddenly I heard him.

"...Stay awake...! Do not fade away...stay awake...it is very important that you fight it...it is easier to close your eyes and....fight it, Uma...soon you will be warm...you will be warm..."

 

 

I was warm. I was so warm and cosy and wet and I was with Jack and I was in a bath and we were naked and I was safe from harm.

After he had resuscitated me and made me wrap up in a fleecy shirt of his and a jumper and wear socks and some shapeless joggers that dwarfed me, he brewed me hot tea with lots of sugar and whisky and made me sip it until I was as warm inside as out. Then he put me to bed, climbed in next to me and held me until I drifted off to sleep and I dreamed of strong arms and warm soft sheets and flesh pressed against me and murmured sounds and....

I must have slept round the clock. When I awoke it was morning and a bright sun dappled the lace at the window. I was alone in the bed. Rolling over, I stretched and sighed, my body aching and tired but also relaxed and languid. I sat up and caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair was like rats' tails, I was still wearing some of Jack's clothes, although they were all in disarray, and I was sure he was the one responsible for that- his hands had been on my body as I slept, I had felt it in my dreams. Hauling myself out, I tried to tame my hair and gave up, drawn by the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing. I was ravenously hungry.

From half way down the stairs, I watched Jack as he prepared breakfast, humming to himself as he worked, looking incongruous against the tidy neatness. I tiptoed down behind him and put my hands over his eyes. "Boo!"

He chuckled and spun round to lift me up to his height and hug me. "So...Sleeping Beauty wakes at last! What are you doing back here? When I saw you jump into that raging sea, I could not believe my eyes...what possessed you to do such a thing?" Jack looked at me with his paternalistic gaze like I was a wayward child who confounded him.

"I wanted to answer your question and I thought you would sail away and I would not be able to..."

"Put to sea in that storm? Why? No one starts a journey in those conditions unless they are keeping to a tight schedule- and even then haste can be foolhardy- how far would I get against those seas when by morning the weather would be restored?"

"I didn't know. I just didn't think. Where were you?"

"I was in the town. Buying last minute supplies and then when the weather broke, I decided to come back to keep an eye on the sea...then I saw your valise and I realized you were somewhere. Your trail was easy to follow and then I saw you strip off your clothes...I shouted - but it was too late..."

"You dived in after me? We could both have drowned!"

"Unlikely. I know my abilities against the current. But I was not sure that I could find you- the undertow was powerful and you are so light. But I found you and dragged you back. I beg pardon for the damage- your body was scraped by the wood of the jetty..." I touched the tender flesh of my stomach- it was small price to pay for my life.

"That's the second time you've hauled me back in. I owe you my life. And I owe you an answer. It is a simple one. Yes."

"Yes? You mean you have changed your mind? Why? Why would you change your mind? I don't want you to take me out of pity." He rested me down and moved away, turning his back, his hurt pride evident.

Slipping my arms round his waist and hugging into his warm back, I murmured: "Pity? Oh, you crazy man! This is not about doing you a favour! This is not about making do because I am lonely. I love you, Jack Aubrey. I just think I'm not good enough for a man like you. I'm scared I'll hurt you. I'm really not what you think. I'm really a terrible woman..."

He disengaged himself from my arms and looked at me softly, his fingers caressing my cheek. "The bacon is ready. Let's eat first and then you can tell me why you are such a terrible woman. And I shall tell you how I have cheated and lied and whored and gambled and drank and killed, all in the name of my calling as sea captain. We do what we must to survive. But first - food. We both need sustenance."

He served a mighty platter of eggs and bacon and sausages, washed down by gallons of tea and hunks of thickly sliced bread. I stuffed myself but barely ate a quarter of what he did. Both of us felt greatly renewed by the hearty fare and then I brewed coffee. We sat back at the table and I told him the truth about my past and the times when I had sold my body for money. Very few people in this world know that secret.

Jack listened thoughtfully. "So, my beautiful lady is a wench as well. So much the better for me- she will certainly know a few tricks that even I may not have encountered. Uma...it doesn't signify. I am not a moral man in your understanding of the word. I believe in honour but I judge it as a very flexible commodity when a victory or a prize or ... a woman...are at stake. You did what you did and now you are a mature and intelligent woman who bewitches men with all her disparate qualities. It is you I love, not your past self, nor do I give a jot for reputation. Some of the most virtuous men and women, in my experience, are capable of the meanest acts."

I took his hand, rolled it over and measured my palm against his. "Then, if you'll have me, Jack Aubrey, warts and all, I will be your woman and I will love you and never let you down. I promise you....even in this crazy world in which we live, I will put no man before you- but we will both be free to take our pleasures with the others that we love. And in a weird way, I think that it may work better than we ever dreamed possible."

Jack grinned broadly. "I have no doubt of it. Nor have I any doubt that I will have to fish you out of the briny many times more before we have finished. But, it was a marvelous resolution for our romance. A near-drowning and a hair-raising rescue from the deep! Now don't tell me that wasn't fun?" I laughed and so did he. He stood up and took my hand. "And now, I think some exercise to work off that splendid breakfast. A romp between the sheets? How does that strike you, madam?"

Jack. What can you possibly say to describe him? 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

And so we fell in love and spent endless quiet days messing about in the boat and wandering the coves and harbours of this glorious coastline. Things changed as soon as we had declared ourselves to each other. The last shreds of the veil between a man and a woman were cast aside and we opened up to each other- and it was pure joy.

One night as we lay on deck wrapped up in blankets and each other, with the starry sky for a canopy, dreamily lying in the aftermath of pleasure, Jack asked me a question.

"You know how once I spoke of taking a long voyage alone?"

I stiffened in his arms, suddenly fearful that he would ask me if I minded if he went away for some time. I minded - but I would never tell him so. Jack deserved the freedom that his restless spirit demanded. "When are you going?" I whispered softly.