Cousinage

This has been a long time coming. Eight years, to be exact. Since I had a stroke in 2017, I haven't published a single word in this blog, the process of writing hasn't worked for me, in a way that I would've wanted, there have a number of drafts, but nothing completed, and nothing good enough, in my opinion, to commit to the cyberspace ocean. But six weeks or so ago, the muse awakened. Finally. This story is complete fiction, but there are numerous autographical elements, largely geographical, although some people have been 'co-opted'  as characters, most notably my real-life cousin, and best friend when I was between the ages of 5 to 10, until she emigrated with her family to Australia. We had lots of fun, totally innocent fun, at that age, I missed her for years after she was gone, but what you can do, in the pre-internet age, when you're 10 and your best friend moves to the other side of the world? Not a great deal, sadly.

So, the regular disclaimer - this story involves sexual interactions between a boy and a girl, below the age of consent, and (briefly) between people above the age of consent. If you're offended by the subject matter, or if your jurisdiction prohibits this kind of literature, please read no further. The author does not condone any illegal actions. 

SB

**** 

"You could've at least chosen a decent team!"

The unexpected comment startled me somewhat. I was a past master at minding my own business, in the hope that other people would reciprocate, and, for the most part, my gambit had been successful - in the nearly six years I'd been living in this small Scottish seaside town, no-one, apart from perhaps the staff of my GP's surgery and its associated pharmacy, even knew my name, let alone the circumstances of my life. That was completely deliberate, I'd never been a gregarious person, even in my childhood, but since suffering a stroke one fateful Autumn evening in 2017, with its consequential aphasic symptoms, I'd largely withdrawn from the world, and its people. Why? Embarrassment, I suppose, as much as anything - when you can't express yourself fluently, the common assumption is that you're unintelligent, even outrightly stupid, and stupidity was the last thing I wanted to be accused of. My intellectual prowess, without being conceited, was considerable, and very much my strongest suit. To have that capacity impaired, if not actually taken away completely, was hard to countenance. I did have a certain amount of therapy in the aftermath of my illness, but compared with what I'd been used to, my speech was still, to my mind, very poor, and it was simply easier, at least psychologically, to stay silent. I wasn't a complete recluse, though, and I was helped in that regard by living directly opposite the local Wetherspoons pub. I didn't drink much alcohol these days, but I often went downstairs and crossed the road for a coffee or a light lunch. It made me feel, at least, a part of the human race, albeit a semi-detached member of the club. But I rarely engaged with anyone, and certainly not with an obviously and slightly over loud Australian woman, accosting me about my choice of club. Yes, I'll admit it, I'm a Australian Rules Football aficionado, not a common option in the UK, and I've compounded my eccentricity by following the most unsuccessful professional team in the history of the sport. I've always been one for the underdog, and there are few more pronounced examples of the genre than the St. Kilda Football Club. Ordinarily, I would've ignored a random comment by a stranger, but the implicit belittling of my beloved Saints - my wearing a hoodie favouring the 'red, white and black' and the famous (by Australian standards) crest made my allegiance plain -  had raised my hackles.

"At least I'm not a fair-weather fan. Fortius Quo Fidelis, and all that!"

The woman grinned. "Well, that's between you and your psychiatrist!" Her smile dimmed somewhat, with an obvious melancholic element in her expression. "You don't remember me, do you Jack?"

Hearing my name from this seemingly unknown person left me almost dumbfounded. I looked at her again, more closely now, and our eyes met. Everything clicked. Those lovely, unforgettable hazel eyes were looking straight at me. I stood up immediately, wanting to sweep her off her feet, almost literally.

"Vic! Oh Vic, is it really you?! I can hardly believe it! How on earth did you get here? How did you find me?"

Her mischievous smirk, so typical of my adored and adorable cousin, instantly propelled back to the happiest time of my whole life, more than 50 years ago.

"A little bird told me!"

****

"Daaaady!" My 9-year-old sister, Elizabeth, universally known as Liz, certainly amongst family and friends, was evidently trying get something from my Dad, almost assuredly after being rebuffed by my Mum, given the girl's pouting face and wheedling tone of voice. "It's not fair!"

Dad was, at most, only half-awake in his armchair - he'd been on an early shift that morning, meaning a 4:30 alarm call for him - but roused himself sufficiently to be the caring father he invariably was to Liz and I.

"What's not fair, duck?" he asked, equably.

"Mummy said I'll have to share my room. She's coming to stay, for weeks!"

"Who's 'she'?"

"My cousin." 

That narrowed the field somewhat, from my perspective, because the mystery person had to be a female, in the circumstances, but my Mum was from a very large family - there were eight siblings in all, I had numerous aunts and uncles, all with multiple children of their own, so I was positively awash with cousins. I was mildly intrigued about who it could be, because there hadn't been the slightest inkling of anyone visiting that summer, let alone a long-term guest.

"It can't be helped, little lady. Something unexpected has cropped up, and we can't just pretend it doesn't concern us. This is a family thing, and families look after each other. And in any case, it means you'll have a friend to play with during the summer holidays." 

Liz wasn't at all mollified.

"But Daddy, she doesn't even like me!" I couldn't help but smirk, under the cover of the book I was reading, but even at 11, I wouldn't have said out loud what I was thinking, namely that no-one liked my sister - she was a thoroughly unlikeable child, a selfish, petulant tell-tale, always trying to get others (especially me) into trouble - it was simply not worth the inevitable tantrum. Feeling, perhaps, that this was one occasion where she wasn't going to get her own way, Liz, in her inimitable fashion, lashed out at a convenient target. Cue the universal scapegoat.

"Daddy, Jack's laughing at me! Smack his bottom, hard!"

Dad was a very easy-going man, and not one for corporal punishment (unlike Mum), unless we were egregiously badly behaved. He was no pushover, though, and the annoyed frown on his face suggested that a boundary had been breached. For a second or two, I quailed, thinking that I was in the crosshairs, but it became evident that his ire was elsewhere.

"That's enough, madam! If anyone deserves a smack, it's you! You'll do as you're told, or else!"

Even though answering back was a risky business for children at that time, the early seventies, Liz couldn't hold her tongue.

"Why can't she stay in Jack's room? He'll love that, being with his girlfriend. Jack and Vic-tor-ia in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" 

I was instantly incensed. "Shut up, you dill! She's not my girlfriend, and don't call her full name, you know she hates it!"

Liz sneered openly. "Yeah, you're right, she thinks she's a boy, anyway. So maybe she's the boyfriend, and that means you're the girlfriend!"

I jumped up, with a view to exact some physical retribution of my own, but before I could fulfil my intention, a growl on my right side stopped me in my tracks.

"Don't you dare, Jack Porter, or you'll be very sorry!" A mere glance in Dad's direction confirmed that he wasn't joking - I'd rarely seen him so angry. "And as for you, Liz, listen carefully to me - you will be sharing the room with Vic, like it or not. You've got the bigger bedroom in the first place, and it's simply not....appropriate for a boy and a girl of Jack and Vic's ages to....share a room together. So get used to it, because it won't change until Vic goes home."

To no-one's surprise, Liz 'turned on the waterworks', a phrase Mum often used, in annoyance or frustration. 

"It's not fair!" she said again, tearfully. "You all hate me!" 

"Don't be ridiculous," Dad said, "no-one hates you, at all. But the world doesn't revolve around you, and the sooner you realise that the better for everyone, including you." The rebuke induced an even more lachrymose outburst, the girl wailing pitifully. Dad wasn't in his most sympathetic mood.

"That's enough, if you can't calm down, you can go to your bedroom. And stay there until I tell you otherwise."

Liz ran out of the room, before stomping her way up the stairs, as loudly as she could, doubtless to antagonise Dad as much as possible. As the emotional storm was starting to abate, it suddenly occurred to me that something very welcome, at least potentially, for me was going to happen. I didn't want to get Dad's residual vexation aimed at me, but I wanted to know if the implications of the previous minutes were accurate. I asked my question with almost exaggerated politeness.

"Dad, is it true? Is Vic going to stay with us?"

"Yes, son, it's true."

"Why....why didn't you tell me before?"

"Because we didn't know ourselves, until we got a letter from Uncle Billy and Aunty June two days ago, and even then, it wasn't confirmed until this morning." Communications were always complicated within the extended family, because few working-class people in that era had telephones, our household being no exception. "But, yes, she'll be arriving this weekend, probably on Saturday afternoon." My spontaneous ear-to-ear grin told its own story. Dad chuckled. "I thought you'd be pleased! But before you get too giddy, a couple of things. I know Vic and you are always thick as thieves, but you two won't be able to ignore everyone else like you usually do. There are other people involved, especially Liz." My face fell, again making my feelings transparent. "Before you get upset, I'm not saying you can't do anything together, but I'll expect you to be a good brother to Liz, include her in your games, take her with you when you go out, and let her decide what to do some of the time. I'm sure you can work things out, but if you can't, there will be consequences. I doubt you'll enjoy your school holiday much if you're on your own in your bedroom."

"But, Dad...."

"No buts! I know you're pretty grown up for your age, and I try to treat you accordingly. But this is important - if everyone is constantly falling out, it's going to be a nightmare. And I know that Liz is the one that provokes the problems, a lot of the time, but you're not blameless, either. I want and need your responsible side to show through, OK?"

In the circumstances, I didn't have much choice, so I assented, albeit reluctantly.

"I'll try my best, Dad." He nodded approvingly. "So why has this happened? Are Uncle Billy and Aunty June alright? And what's happening to Jennifer?"

Uncle Billy was my Mum's brother, his family comprised his wife, June, and his two daughters, Jennifer - never Jenny, she was very particular about that - who was 15, and Vic - woe betide anyone who called her Victoria, even her teachers at school complied! - who was the same age as me, to within a month. Billy was in the army, and had been since he was 16, which meant that Vic and I were often separated - most of his postings had been in the UK, but there was a whole year, when I was 8/9, when the family moved to Germany to one of the British bases there, a painful experience for me, because it meant I only saw Vic once, for a solitary long weekend, the whole time they were away on the continent. Although they'd been back in Blighty for the previous two years, the situation still wasn't ideal, as far as I was concerned, given that they were living at Bovington Camp in Dorset, nearly 200 miles away from my home town on the East Kent coast. At least Billy had a car, unlike us, so visits were reasonably frequent, but the prospect of seeing my favourite cousin and best friend long-term was a dream come true. What I didn't know at the time, though, was that Dad wasn't telling me the whole story. 

"Yes, they're fine, but they've got to go away for some Army business, abroad, but the girls can't go with them. Jennifer's best friend from school lives on a farm, a riding stables, actually, and the friend's parents are happy to look after Jennifer, but there isn't enough room for Vic as well. Mind you, I doubt Vic would've been very happy there anyway, with a load of girls in jodhpurs!"

I laughed, knowing exactly what Vic would say - 'Girly rubbish!' She was the ultimate tomboy, loving almost any sport (she was a better footballer and cricketer than any boy I that knew, at our age), climbing trees, swimming like a fish (unlike me, I couldn't swim at all), and generally enjoying most of the same sorts of things as me. Being around her was just like having another male friend, but on steroids! I loved her company, and always had, for as long as I could remember. Her utter disdain for (other) girls also helped, we were ideally matched in that regard, too. Before Dad and I could discuss the scenario further, Mum came into the sitting room, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

"Where's the little ray of sunshine?" she asked Dad.

"In her room - I sent her upstairs to cool down for a few minutes."

"She wasn't happy, then?"

"What do you think?! She was being Liz, as you would expect. Her brilliant plan was to park Vic with Jack!" Mum looked aghast at that prospect. "Don't worry, I set her right, straight away. But I've told Jack the 'two musketeers' will have to have a new recruit for the time being, and he knows the score. Don't you, son?"

"Yes, Dad".

"Hmm." Mum looked sceptical. "I'll believe that when I see it." Mum turned to me. "Jack, you need to tidy your room before Vic arrives. Tomorrow, please, if not today. We don't want visitors thinking we live in a pigsty."

Inwardly, I bemoaned the unfairness of my life - my room wasn't pristine, but it certainly wasn't terrible, compared to others I'd seen, mostly my numerous cousins (including Vic's, ironically) - but I knew from long experience that complaining, or even politely disagreeing, was a waste of breath. 

"I'll do it in the morning, Mum."

"Make sure you do - properly." 

****

"Your Mum could be a bit....harsh sometimes, couldn't she? Especially towards you," Vic said.

"Maybe, but at the time I was just used to it. If I'd had a pound for the number of times I heard her say 'You're the oldest, you should know better'  - right back to when I was about 5 - after some spat or other with Liz, well, I could've been considerably better off than I am now! At the end of the day, she was my Mum, and I loved her. Perhaps not as much as I loved Dad, but the love was always there."

"Did Liz really say that we should've shared your bedroom, or was that you....embellishing a good story?!"

"It's the truth! And that comment about us being girlfriend and boyfriend was true as well. Dad was livid at the time, even though I'm sure Liz had no idea about the implications of what she was saying. I certainly didn't, I was pretty innocent in those days, the only reason I was so annoyed was that I didn't like girls, at all, never mind wanting a girlfriend. You, of course, were the exception that proves the rule, but I'd never thought of you as a girl in that context - you were just you, my friend, my very best friend."

"Awww, that's sweet! And, yeah, I would've been ropeable if Liz said that to me, too!"

"Ropeable?"

"Oops, sorry, my Aussie slang is showing! 'Ropeable' means very angry, ready to fight someone!"

"Two countries divided by a common language!"

"Something like that!" The twinkle in her eyes was back. "Anyway, maybe she had....an instinct that there was more going on in the background, even if we didn't know ourselves...."

****

"What can we do? It's been completely rubbish so far!" my cousin said, meaningfully.

Vic was unwontedly despondent, her usual sunny, ebullient disposition tarnished by the first two days of her stay with us. Needless to say, Liz had been the problem, almost totally. My sister had taken my Dad's instruction about including her in our doings to heart, to an obsessive degree. If we did anything other than Liz's bidding, 100% of the time, the whining and grizzling instantly began. The weather didn't help - it had been thoroughly wet and miserable, all weekend, trapping us in the house, all adding to the fractiousness of the situation. It came to a head on the Sunday evening. Heartily sick of Liz and her behaviour, and hoping for a little bit of space, Vic and I, more or less surreptitiously, went upstairs to my room, closing the door behind us. I wanted to show her an astronomy book I'd borrowed from the public library, knowing she would be interested, but before we'd even had a chance to peruse page one, my Mum barged in, shouting angrily.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

We were both bewildered by her vehemence. "We were going to look at my book," I answered, truthfully.

"So why was the door closed? What else were you doing?"

"Nothing! We just knew Liz would be a nuisance, that's all. Vic's been in my room loads of times. What's changed all of a sudden?"

"Don't be cheeky! If I catch you with your door closed again, unless you're on your own, you'll be sorry! Understand?"

With hindsight, there was no doubt about the issue Mum was skating around, but at the time, I was genuinely nonplussed by her seemingly arbitrary new restriction. Ordinarily, I might have meekly accepted it, but with the heightened stress everyone was feeling, I was ready to stand my ground. Big mistake.

"No, Mum, I don't understand. We weren't doing anything wrong....Owww!" Mum had slapped my leg, twice. And they were no featherweight blows, either, bringing tears to my eyes. "What was that for?!"

"For your defiance! You'll do as you're told, or else!"

Vic gamely tried to defend me. "That wasn't fair, Aunty Dawn. Jack and I just wanted some peace and quiet, without...." The girl noticed Liz, who was smirking humourlessly, in the doorway. "....that ratbag ruining everything!"

"That's enough from you, young lady, unless you want some of the same! While you're staying at our house, the rules apply to you. Stay out of his bedroom, or else!"

Vic's face was a mixture of shock, confusion and unspoken dissent. Some of those elements were still present, some twelve hours later, as we sat on the sofa in the sitting room, talking quietly to avoid eavesdroppers, both parental and sibling based, to consider our next moves.

"Well, the weather looks like it's going to be a lot better today, so maybe we can go and do something outdoors. You know Liz is pretty lazy, Mum's always going on about her never getting any exercise or fresh air, so if we take her somewhere fairly close, but far enough to make it a bit uncomfortable for her, she might not want to go next time."

Vic's face lit up. "You're a genius! I knew you'd have a plan! Where should we go?"

"What about the park? They've got a new aviary there now, it's not that big, but it's still quite interesting, they've got some nice birds there. I've been there a few times now, but Liz has only seen it once, as far as I know." The big municipal park, bequeathed to the town by some local nineteenth century worthy, was less than a mile from where we lived, but that distance involved a fairly strenuous climb, something that was certainly outside my sister's usual comfort zone. "Mum might say no, especially if Liz moans enough, but we can only ask."

"Ask about what?" Mum came into the room, sipping a mug of tea. "What are you pair of villains cooking up now?" For once, Mum's demeanour was reasonably light-hearted, which seemed to be encouraging.

"Vic hasn't seen the new aviary yet, and it's sunny at the moment, so we want to go to the park. Liz can go too, it's not very far, and we don't have to cross any busy roads, either." 

"I see," Mum said, noncommittally. "Have you asked Liz about this yet?"

"I haven't seen her so far this morning, I thought she was still in bed."

Vic concurred. "Yeah, she was snoring when I got dressed and came down here."

"Snoring! Really?" Mum looked amused. Vic nodded, smiling in her turn. "That's not very ladylike, is it?! Jack," turning to me, "would you be able to look after Liz without any ructions? If we do this, and it turns out to be a fight, or worse, if anyone gets hurt, I'll be unlikely to trust you, ever again."

I gulped, probably visibly. 'Ever again' looked more than a little daunting, in the circumstances. But I steeled myself to the best of my ability, and decided to commit.

"I would try my best, but....Liz needs to try her best, too. She always wants to have her own way, all the time. That's why Vic and I got so fed up with her last night, we wanted to stay out of her way for a while."

Mum's face was an unreadable shade of neutral, but at least her response wasn't immediately negative. Yet. I pressed on.

"If Liz won't come to the park, can Vic and I go on our own, please?"

"No, but what you proposed originally, taking Liz with you, is a good idea - a walk in the fresh air won't hurt her, and it will mean you three won't be under my feet all day, I've got things to do. And what I said about Vic not being allowed in your room at all was a bit too drastic, but - and I mean this - you're not to close your door when Vic's in there, for any reason. OK?"

Any sort of compromise from Mum was rare, so I wasn't inclined to push my luck further, especially when Vic obviously frowned in my direction, as if to say 'don't argue!'

"OK, Mum. But could you tell Liz not to waltz in without asking, just because the door's open, please? If I went into her room whenever I felt like it, there'd be a riot!"

"That's fair enough, I suppose. I'll tell her." At that moment, heavy footsteps approached from the stairs. "Sleeping Beauty is stirring, it seems. Let's get some some breakfast organised. Get the cereal from the cupboard, Jack. Vic, find the bowls and spoons, please. I'll do some toast once you've finished your corn flakes. Good morning, Liz. Did you sleep well?"

My sister scowled. "No! Vic was talking in her sleep all the time. I don't like sharing my room with her!"

"All the time? I can't believe that! In any case, you'll just have to get used to it, it'll only be for a couple of weeks or so. You know we haven't got a spare room. And by the way, Vic and Jack have kindly offered to take you to the big park after breakfast." Liz pouted immediately.

"Don't want to! They'll throw me into the fish pond, and say it was an accident! I want to play with my dolls."

The expression on Mum's face suggested that an 'unfortunate misadventure' might not be a bad thing, but instead, she simply made it clear that she wasn't prepared to stand for any nonsense.

"That wasn't a suggestion, madam! You're going out with Vic and Jack, and that's final! I've just about had enough with you at the moment, don't provoke me any more, or you won't be able to sit down for a week!"

Surprisingly, the morning went well, once Liz realised Mum wasn't messing around. The walk up the hill was punctuated by various moans and groans - 'It's too far', 'The hill's too steep', 'I want to go home', and the like - but Vic, with almost infinite patience (certainly more patience that I would've shown) encouraged and cajoled, with cheery words and a pat on the shoulder or two, helping my sister when she was flagging, before we finally arrived at the middle level of the park, where the playground and aviary were situated.  Vic carried on with the charm offensive in the subsequent couple of hours, telling Liz about the various birds (to be fair to my sister, she was already reasonably interested about wildlife, if you could call aviary birds wildlife) then playing on the swings, roundabout and rocking horse with her, until it was time to head back home to eat. Back in my bedroom (door wide open, of course), I marvelled at Vic's resilience.

"It was my part of the plan," she explained. "Wear Liz out, and then ask to go out again once our meals settle. I doubt Liz would want to, but if she does, take her to the sea front and back so she'll be extra tired and fed up!" 

I grinned. "You're brilliant! Let's ask Mum in a few minutes, and see what happens."

As soon as another walk had been mooted, Liz instantly demurred. 

"No! Mummy, don't make me go out again, my feet are sore! Can't I stay at home this time, please?"

If Mum had discovered our ruse, she wasn't saying anything about it. "I suppose you can stay here, but you'll have to be quiet - your father will be home soon, and he'll probably want a nap after he's eaten, he was out of the door at 5:00 this morning again." Liz readily agreed, as predicted. "What about you two. Aren't you tired at all?"

"No, Mum. We're both used to walking." To be honest, she should have known our capacities (and probably did), Vic was nothing short of an outright athlete, and while I wasn't at all in that bracket, I could walk miles without difficulty, and did so regularly (weather permitting, I wasn't a fan of getting wet!). 

Success! Ten minutes later, Vic and I were walking towards the town centre, feeling jubilant.

"Wow, I wouldn't believe it could work so soon! You're a star, Vic!"

My cousin's patented million-watt smile shone through, not for the first time.

"It was your plan, I'm not clever enough to have worked it out! You're the real star!" Glancing around, seemingly to check that there weren't any bystanders close, Vic continued, rather more guardedly. "Do you know any places where we can talk in private? I want to tell you some stuff, but it's got to be a secret."

I was somewhat taken aback - we'd had our little childhood confidences, as best friends often did, but this was the first time I could remember that Vic wanted to have active secrecy, as it were, in our relationship.

"Y....yeah, there are some of the parts of the Heights I've explored where I've never seen anyone at all. And if we go right to the top, they can't sneak up on us, we'd see them first."

"That'll be great, can you show me?"

Indeed I could, and twenty minutes later, after another stiff climb, we were catching our collective breath on a grassy bank. We briefly admired the panoramic view of the harbour, before Vic cut to the chase.

"I think I know why Aunty Dawn got so angry at us last night."

"Why?"

"Because of sex."

If I'd been confused by mother's reaction the previous day, that was nothing to the utter perplexity I was feeling now. Sex was a topic that was literally never discussed in our house, and it had never been a subject Vic and I had talked about, for a moment.

"W....what do you mean?" I said, weakly.

"She probably thought we were....experimenting. Boys and girls our age do that, you know."

"Do they? Really? I thought it was only for making babies, when we're older."

Vic's expression was neither scornful or even slightly mocking, more sympathetic.

"Do you know anything much about sex, Jack?" I shook my head slightly, blushing in embarrassment. "Don't get upset, I didn't know anything either, until last Christmas. What happened, a girl at Jennifer's year at school - not a girl she knew, except by sight - got pregnant, and was expelled. Jennifer told me everyone in her year and in the fifth form had to go to a special assembly, but they didn't get any actual sex education, just a warning not to do it until they were adults. Mum and Dad weren't too impressed about the school's response, so they found a book - two books, actually, because they got the one for boys, as well as the girls' one - so that Jennifer could get some proper information on the subject. I wasn't supposed to look at it, but I was curious, so one day when Jennifer was at the stables, I just 'borrowed' it for a couple of hours. Very interesting it was, too, but there weren't any pictures in the book, and....I want to see what a real boy's....penis looks like. Would you show me, if I show you my....pussy?" My reluctance was all too evident, because she immediately followed on with another, even more heartfelt request. "Please, Jack, you're my best friend, and the only boy I know properly, really. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

"What happens....if we get caught? I bet I'll be locked in my room for ever if Mum finds out."

"We'll have to be really careful, that's all. And it's not just your Mum, Liz would tell on us straight away if she knew."

I was still very dubious, not least because I didn't understand the attraction of 'baring my all', even to the most important person in my life. "Why are people so keen on sex, anyway?"

Vic smirked devilishly. "Because it feels really, really good!"

"How do you know that?! Have you done stuff like that already?"

My emotions were thoroughly scrambled by that point - concern that Vic could be harmed, the thought that I wouldn't be able to see her again, and, looking back now, a large dose of jealousy, the thought of her being involved with some mysterious 'other' made me hurt and angry in equal measure. The girl seemed to know that I was struggling, and wrapped her arm over my shoulder.

"Course not! Except....with my own hand." It was her turn to blush. "When I read that book, I worked out how to make it feel scrummy for me. If you use your fingers, and stroke your pussy gently, it starts to feel nice, sort-of tickly and tingly, then if you carry on, it gets better and better, until you get a huge rush of lovely feelings, all over. It's so wonderful! And you can do it as many times as you like, as long you don't make yourself sore. That's no fun at all! Boys can get those feelings as well, according to the other book, they get their dicks hard and rub up and down until the feelings happen. Older boys and men shoot sperms out when they do it, and most times they have to have a break, because their dicks go soft for a while, but some boys our age, who don't make sperms yet, are more like girls, they can do it over and over again. Does your dick get hard, Jack?"

"S....sometimes, but I didn't know why, really. After a few minutes, it goes back to usual. I've never tried to make it hard deliberately."

Vic very unsubtly glanced in the direction of my groin, before grinning anew.

"You're hard now, aren't you?!" My blushing face told its own story. "Let me see, Jack, pretty please! And then you can have a look at me, I want to show you, so we can be equal."

The butterflies in my stomach were the size of pterodactyls, but I couldn't deny my beloved cousin. Before I could chicken out, I pulled my shorts and underpants down to my knees. Vic looked entranced in a heartbeat.

"Oh wow, Jack, it looks so nice. I love it!" If I'd known what the word 'seductive' meant at the time, her breathy excitement would've exactly fitted the bill. "C....can I touch it?" Shyly, I assented. Of course, at 11, my endowment wasn't at all impressive, three inches, if that, but it was insanely stiff, easily the hardest erection of my life, to that point. Her hand slowly approached, then she was touching me, oh so gently, between her thumb and forefinger. I'd never felt anything like that before. Ecstasy, and no mistake.

"Oh Vic, ooohhh, it's heaven! Do it more, do it quicker, please!"

She laughed delightedly. "Like that, Jack?!" I nodded enthusiastically, as she'd found a delicious rhythm, maybe one stroke a second, that was making me light-headed with delight.

"Oh yes, it's the best feeling I've ever had! Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Within a minute, the pleasure was almost overwhelming me, and I was getting scared.

"Vic, something's happening, I think I'm going to pee!"

"No, you're going to get your feeling, I reckon. You'll love it!"

Ten seconds later, I groaned unconsciously, and then the fireworks began. My penis bucked and pulsed, time and time again. I can't recall, to this day, how many convulsions rocketed through my body, but it must've been at least a dozen. Finally, the corporeal pyrotechnics ebbed away, along with a very uncomfortable degree of sensitivity.

"No more!" I gasped. "It tickles too much!"

Vic pouted, in an almost Liz-like fashion, but she realised I wasn't pretending. 

"Did you like that, Jack?"

"Oh Vic, it was awesome! I really didn't know I could do that, otherwise I would've done it years ago! You're the best!" Our eyes met, in a way that couldn't be but than love, on both our parts. "Vic, I want to give you what you've just given me. Can you show me how to do it, so it'll be awesome for you, too? Please?"

"Of course I can!" Her own shorts and panties were down in a flash, completely off in her case - "I need a bit more space to spread my legs to make it work," she explained - before giving me a rapid 'beginner's guide' to intimate female anatomy. "It'll be a bit wet down below, but don't worry, it's not pee, just some slippery stuff my pussy makes when I'm feeling sexy. That's how boys and girls work, boys get hard, girls get wet! It's all to do with 'all the way' sex, it makes getting a dick into a pussy a lot easier, when everything slides nicely. You'll see, when I show you how to get your finger inside, in a minute or two."

My first sexual experience, and Vic's first with anyone else, couldn't have been better. She was a superb teacher, and I was a more than enthusiastic pupil. I had three climaxes that afternoon, while Vic had at least five - it was difficult to know whether her next orgasm was a new item, or a aftershock from the previous one! In the end, we'd worn ourselves out, lapsing into a happy languor, wrapped up in each other's arms. I kissed her for the first time, only on the cheek, and she reciprocated without hesitation.

"We'd better get back home soon," she said, slightly sadly. "We don't want to anyone to wonder what we've been doing all this time. And if we can manage it, get a quick wash, too, in case we smell of sex!"

"If anyone says anything, say we've been climbing hills, and got sweaty. It wouldn't be a complete lie, would it! It would be better to stay a bit whiffy if we could, though, I really like your sex smells, a lot!"

"I think that's a compliment, just about! You're not too bad yourself, as boys go!"

"Vic....I think....I love you. Not because of the sex stuff, but because you're the nicest person I know. Sorry if you think I'm being silly...."

"Ssshhh! It's not silly. I love you, too. I think we've always loved each other, but we were too little to realise what it meant." She kissed me once more, on the lips this time, gently, delicately. "The only thing, though, is that we'll have to be even more careful now. Just imagine what Liz would say. Or your Mum!"

****

"That was some day, wasn't it?" Vic said archly.

We'd adjourned to my flat, along with a couple of bottles of wine from the nearby supermarket, not wanting to inadvertently tell the world (or at least the patrons of my local!) about our preteen adventures.

"You're not joking! It was a 'nothing to everything' experience for me, I was an utterly clueless newbie who was launched into a completely new world. It was so exciting! And I'd found the world's most perfect girlfriend, into the bargain!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister!" I turned on my best 'wounded puppy' look, making Vic laugh out loud. "You dope! You were perfect for me, too! I didn't know how perfect until I was in high school - in comparison to you, the local troglodytes never stood a chance! You were so kind and caring, as well as being the cleverest person I'd ever known. And as far as sex went, you were always more interested in making sure I was having a good time than wanting anything for yourself. Pretty much diametrically opposite to any teenage male - or adult male, frankly - where I ended up living. Braindead rednecks, the lot of them! I ended up falling in love with a girl when I was 16, at least I was able to have the kindness and care in my life, even if I couldn't have you." She grinned once more. "And the sex turned out to be pretty amazing, too! But what happened to you, I heard, when I started to try to connect with our family, that you were completely on your own, you'd never had anyone of your own. I could hardly believe it, I thought you would have multiple prospective partners fighting over you! I hope you weren't pining over me for years, what a waste that would've been."

"It wasn't quite like that, although I was absolutely distraught when I found that you were going away, for ever and ever. It took me months to recover any sort of equilibrium, I literally cried myself to sleep every time anyone mentioned you, for, maybe, a year or more. But when I was 12 or 13, I was at the Boys' Grammar by then, I was starting to feel 'different'. Maybe it was puberty  kicking in, but for whatever reason, I became very interested in boys. Not very young boys, but the ones a year or so younger than me. Not that I did anything about it, I probably would've been lynched, all-boys schools were very homophobic in those days, and maybe they're still the same, I've no idea, but I was full of dreams and fantasies. I didn't want to be a 'poof', that was the most common slur back then, not least because I didn't feel effeminate in the slightest, but girls didn't do anything for me, at all. Apart from you, of course, but I tried not to think about you too much in that phase of my life, because it upset me so much. It got worse as I got older, maybe 16 or 17, because by that time, I was still nuts about the 11, 12, 13-year olds, rather than anyone of my own age, while the idea of getting together with an adult man just made me feel sick. Oddly, enough we got to know a gay couple quite well, through Mum's work - she was a professional cook before I was born, and went back to it after Liz went to secondary school - and I thought I might get a bit of information about what it was like to be gay, but they didn't want to give me any advice, and when I asked, as a 'what if?' question about boys of the age I was interested in, they were horrified. I don't know what they told my parents, if anything, but I found myself getting some sharp looks, especially from Mum, if I even looked at anything or anyone in the 'forbidden zone'. In the end, the relentless disapproval convinced me that I was a filthy monster, and the only way I could save myself was to get married. It didn't work, of course, although I got as far as engagement, when I was in my late twenties - I still wasn't interested in women, to any significant degree, Amy, my fiancée, and I were far more like very good friends rather than lovers, with hindsight - but it all fell to bits anyway at the wedding reception of one of Amy's friends, I spent most of the evening chatting - just talking, it wasn't as though we sneaked away to find a room - to a couple of 'tweenage' guys at the next table to ours. Amy went berserk, she immediately decided I was a 'paedo', and by the end of the evening, I was consigned to utter darkness forever. It was a relief, to be honest, I don't think we were at all compatible anyway, but it was the last straw with the relationship with my mother, she never spoke to me again until the day she died, I was even banned from her funeral, courtesy of my delightful sister." The room seemed unnaturally silent, and I was suddenly alarmed - what would Vic make of my predilections? "Sorry, I've been dumping my woes onto you, I'm sure you're not interested in my ancient history...."

"Don't you dare start getting into self-pity, Jack Porter! I love you, warts and all. And I'm so pissed off with Liz, what a cow she's been! It's a good job she doesn't live anywhere here, I would've banging on her front door, giving her a piece of my mind! Kim told me she was still as nasty as ever, and I can well believe it!"

"So, Kim was your 'little bird'!" Kim was my niece, Liz's only offspring, now nearly 40, and the only family member, until Vic's utterly unexpected appearance, who had the slightest interest in me. We spoke on the phone, once or twice a month, and she'd visited me a couple of times in my Caledonian hideout - 'a free holiday in Scotland by the sea, what's not to like!', she'd said. 

"Yeah, I can't deny it, but when I decided to come to the UK, after all those years, and when I found that you'd been so ill, despite living on your own, I knew I had to see you, somehow. I was on my own as well by then, and I was retired, too, so there was nothing to stop me anymore." I looked at Vic questioningly, elicited a sigh from my cousin. "It's alright, you can ask. In fact, I'll just tell you. Tess died three years ago, in a car accident. Her fault, I'm sorry to say, she'd been sleeping poorly for a while, but she decided to go and see her sister's new house, 150-odd miles away. She fell asleep at the wheel, they found the dashcam footage, and crashed into a tree."

"Oh Vic, I'm so sorry."

"It was hard to take, we'd been together for 46 years. But at least I was able to enjoy all those good times. Unlike you, Jack. It's just awful what life has thrown at you, it makes me want to cry, and I never cry. Almost never, anyway." Vic smiled, albeit with an obvious melancholic cast. "Enough of the doom and gloom, this is a happy, happy day. I've reconnected with my best friend after all these years, and the only boyfriend I've ever had. You spoiled me for all the others, you superstud! Do you remember that thunderstorm?"

"As if I could ever forget, to my dying day!"

****

After the washout weekend, the first of Vic's extended stay, the summer weather had been largely benign, certainly by British standards. We were able to go out and about virtually every day, taking Liz on many occasions, but also escaping the clutches of my sister often enough to do our own thing to a pleasing degree. And our favourite thing had rapidly become investigating each other's bodies, and their capacity to make us feel amazing. I'd been exploring my local area, both within the town and the adjoining countryside, since I was very young, maybe from the age of 7 or 8 - no helicopter parenting in those days, I was thoroughly free-range - and I was familiar with all sorts of nooks and crannies, quiet alleyways and little-used footpaths, places that my parents had no idea about. One of my pastimes of choice was showing Vic those 'secret' locations. Given the area's proximity to the continent, there was a plethora of military constructions, ranging from the world-famous castle to small, crumbling abandoned pill boxes, gun emplacements and storerooms from both World Wars and even from the Napoleonic era. Some had been reused, some been fenced off, but there were many that could be easily accessed, particularly to eager pioneers with a taste for a little adventure - or privacy.

"Look at this one, Vic! It's got a big bolt in the door that still works, so even someone turns up, they wouldn't be able to get in! It's a bit dark, but there is a little of light, from that skylight." I pointed upwards to the apex of the room, which might've been a storage area in its operational life. Vic was thrilled.

"Yes! As long that bolt is secure, we'll be able to take all our clothes off! And look, there's an army blanket!" She sniffed at the bedding experimentally. "A bit musty, but not too bad. Let's just check the bolt one more time, for luck!"

The bolt closed freely, and even more importantly, opened just as easily. "Brilliant! I can't wait to see all of you, Jack. And show you how I look, too!"

My cousin stripped in seconds, her body was very boyish in most respects, apart from the obvious lack of external genitalia, the only other marked difference to mine was a pair of very small breast buds, hardly protruding by a half an inch from her otherwise flat chest.

"You look stunning, Vic! I'm so lucky to see you like this." I drew a deep breath, and undressed briskly, even though I knew I wasn't even close to be as attractive as her. We stood, face to face, close but not touching yet.

"Thank you, Jack, for letting me see. Can we hug, please?"

Wordlessly, we flowed together like a gentle stream. I was a couple of inches taller, so she was able to rest her chin on my shoulder. I kissed her ear softly, making her shiver a little.

"This is so lovely, Jack," she whispered. "You're like a warm, cuddly teddy bear. Shall we lie down and kiss before we do any really sexy stuff."

Being naked with a gorgeous girl was 'really sexy' enough for me already, but I wasn't inclined to quibble. "We can do whatever you like, Vic." We folded the blanket double, to give us a modicum of comfortable padding, before I laid on my back, allowing her to 'climb aboard'. Having so much of our bodies touching together was breathlessly exciting, and the excitement was enhanced even further when she suggested that we should open our mouths and touch tongues. If I'd considered that possibility 'clinically', I probably would've recoiled, as being too 'yucky', but we were just 'going with the flow', and it turned to be an inspired decision. It wasn't long before the tide of sexual abandon swept me away completely, as I gasped and groaned into my best climax yet. Once I came back to earth, I felt so guilty, taking my pleasure without giving anything in return, and said so. Vic squashed that flat.

"Don't be daft! It was great, making you feel so good! And I was pretty close myself, anyway. You're still completely hard, so we can just carry on. I bet I'll get my turn, really soon!" She was right, needless to say, and it was only a few minutes, with the assistance of my gentle caresses, when Vic hit her peak, twice, accompanied by the cutest soft squeals of rapture.

We rested quietly, our bodies still entwined, for about a quarter of an hour or so, before Vic spoke up, slightly nervously, it seemed to me.

"Jack....I want to try something new, but I don't want to do it unless you're OK with it."

"What is it?"

"I want....I want your dick inside me. We can't accidently make a baby, because you haven't got any sperms yet, and I haven't had my period, either - Jennifer told me about periods, and what they mean - so it's safe. Can we try?"

"I....don't know, it might hurt you, and I never want to do that, ever. And I....don't know how to do it, anyway."

"Neither do I, we can learn together. You're always gentle with me, everything has been so lovely so far. If you use your finger first, like we did before, until I'm used to that, then try two fingers, to see what that feels like, it should be fine. Your dick isn't massive, or anything, I bet it's less than two fingers wide. Please, Jack, make me feel wonderful."

"Only if you promise to tell me if it hurts you, so I can stop."

"I promise, truly." She smiled at me happily. "We won't be virgins in a few minutes. That's so great. There's no-one in the whole world I'd rather do sex with, you're the greatest! Let me lay down on my back and I'll open my legs for you, you can kneel up between in the space."

We manoeuvred ourselves into the position she'd suggested, and although I was still very nervous, there was some instinctive thought that, yes, that's a good way to make it happen. She purred, that's the only way I can describe it, when my forefinger penetrated her vagina.

"Mmmm, feels so good. Go in and out a few times, as far as your finger can go, that makes my pussy wetter, you know, with that slippery stuff." I slowly and carefully did her bidding, and her vagina was already noticeably more damp than it had been. "That's it, Jack, just like that, perfect!" I kept the rhythm constant, watching her face for any sign of discomfort, but all I could see was pleasure, her eyes were almost closed, her breathing was becoming faster, not quite panting, but in that direction. "Try the second finger now, but don't be rough, please!" My heart was pumping wildly, in a heady mix of anxiety and anticipation, as my middle finger joined its partner on the threshold of Vic's slick opening. "Go slow, go slow!" the girl nervously whispered. I advanced at a snail's pace, and she seemed to relax somewhat, but as I went a little deeper, maybe around an inch, she flinched. I stopped instantly, and was just about to withdraw completely, when she grabbed my hand and stopped me. "Don't take them out, Jack, I'm not hurting, honestly. It just feels....too full at the moment. Give me a minute, I want to try to get used to it. It made me jump a bit, that's all. Most of this stuff is new to me, too."

"As long as you're OK, and not hurt, I'll wait as long as you need."

Vic reached up, and kissed me fondly. "You're so kind, Jack. I love you, loads!" She became a good bit calmer. "I'm ready to go further now, I think. Keep going really slowly, though."

It was a painstaking process, but after about five minutes, my fingers were nearly all the way inside. Vic looked as though she was enjoying the experience now, which was a big relief for me. Eventually, I bottomed out.

"That's it, Vic, I can't go any deeper. How are you feeling?"

"It's nice! Do it like you did with one finger, in and out about halfway, but still slowly, please." She grinned once more. "It's really working, Jack! I'm stretching inside, I'm sure I am! Go a little bit faster." Her excitement was obvious. "Ooohhh, yes! You're rubbing against something really, really nice inside my pussy! Do it more!" All of a sudden, I felt a series of spasms grab my fingers, while Vic just went wild. "Oh God, oh God, what's happening to me! It's soooo good! Jack, it's never felt like this! My feeling has gone mad! Don't stoppppp....!" After long, long moments, she gave a huge shudder, before she gently pulled my fingers out of her body. "Wow, wow, wow, wow! What did you do, Jack?! That was ten times better than any feeling I've had before! All the other ones were around my clitty, but this one was really deep down, where your fingers were. I already knew you were a genius, but it looks like you're a sex genius, too!"

I was simply bewildered. I had no idea what I'd managed to do, if it wasn't for Vic and her educational skills, I would've been the same oblivious tyro as before, and certainly not a 'sex genius'.

"I don't know what I did, I'm glad you liked it, though! But when you were getting your feeling, your....pussy got really wet and slippery. Has that happening to you before?" 

"Not really, not that much, anyway. But that was my biggest feeling ever!" The most devilish grin painted her face. "If it's that slippery, that'll be the perfect chance to get your dick in there! Shall we try, right now?!"

I couldn't even speak, I was so intoxicated by the prospect, so I simply nodded fit to bust. We resumed our previous positions (neither of us had ever heard of 'the missionary position', but, effectively, that was what we were about to do). Vic, as ever, was the leader, and the teacher.

"Scoot closer, so your dick is nearly touching my pussy slit." I shuffled the necessary foot or so. "That's the way. Can you see where your dick is going to go, you know, where your fingers were just now?" I nodded once more. "So all you've got to do is swap your fingers with your dick. Don't forget to go slowly, it'll be pretty tight inside, I expect."

Vic helped me by giving me as much space as she could, while I took my steel-hard penis into my right hand, trying to aim as accurately as possible. I was so close to the target, I could feel the moisture she'd exuded. "Am I in the right place, Vic?"

"I think so, just try to get the head of your dick into the entrance of my pussy first." It was a case of 'so close, yet so far' at first, but I tried again, and I thought I'd found the relevant notch. Vic took me in hand, and made the fine adjustments herself. "Yeah, it's right there, Jack. Push it in an inch, if you can." I could, and I did. "That's it, give me a few seconds, like you did with your fingers, so I can get used to it again." That inch was already bathed in the warmth and wetness of Vic's vagina, and I was struggling to avoid climaxing immediately. "OK, another inch when you're ready. Mmmm, that's scrummy, Jack, go in all the way now, I'm loving this already!" 

And that was it, we were two ex-virgins. I started to laugh uncontrollably, Vic was soon giggling madly too. After a minute of hilarity, my exhilaration was finally being reduced to the dazzle level it had been, and I began to take stock of this wonderful new phenomenon. 

"Oh Vic, it's the best feeling ever! It's warm and wet and tight, it's like my dick's in a silky glove! Is it good for you, too?"

"It's fantastic, Jack! Your dick is touching that super-good place you found before! I might get another huge feeling in about ten seconds if you move right now!"

"I know what you mean! I thought I was I going to explode before I even got properly inside! We are supposed to go in and out, though, aren't we? How can we make it longer, I don't want it to finish in a few seconds, it's too nice to waste it like that."

"You're right! If we go really slowly, and move a tiny bit at first, maybe we'll start to get used to it more. If you think your feeling is about to happen, stop for a few seconds, or even longer, if that works better."

"That's a good idea! So, what do you think, should I pull my dick about halfway, then go back fully inside."

"Make it a quarter first, I think. If you go too far, it might slip out completely, and I definitely don't want to lose you! Are you ready to try?"

"Yeah! Here goes!"

Whether it was our natural compatibility, or simply beginner's luck, I don't know, but our first attempt at intercourse was an almost complete success. We began very cautiously, but it wasn't too long before we were well into the swing of things. I did have to stop to cool down a couple of times, and I slipped out once - Vic struck like a cobra to get me back inside in an instant - but it was inevitable that weren't able to last any great amount of time, maybe four or five minutes, we were just too inexperienced and far too aroused. Vic lit the touch paper by having a massive orgasm, and I was engulfed by my own climax more or less straight after. The unbearable sensitivity I'd been afflicted with when I'd had my first ever peak was absent, fortunately, so I was able to bask in a delicious afterglow, once I checked that Vic was OK.

"Uh-huh, I want you to stay in me, for as long as we can! Forever would be best!"

I laughed in delight. "Me too! Oh Vic, I love you so much."

We shifted our orientation, without losing the connection between us - I was quite a bit heavier than Vic, I didn't want to squash her! After a bit of giggly to-and-fro, I was once more on my back, and Vic was laying prone, still with my erection embedded in her luscious sheath. We kissed again, first gently, in a relatively controlled way, but when Vic burrowed her tongue into my mouth, restraint was out of the window! Within seconds, we were rutting like a pair of demented rabbits! Having had two orgasms in fairly short order, I was able to last considerably longer this time, a good ten minutes, which was to Vic's advantage, she seemed to be having one climax after another. In the end, I couldn't stop myself any more, and groaned in ecstatic release. By that time, I was frankly exhausted, and I was pretty sure Vic was feeling the same.

"Oh Jack, you are so good at this! It felt like my pussy was melting! You're a superstar!"

"You are too, Vic, I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but I'm so glad you're in my life!"

After all that frenzy, my body was telling me I needed a break. 

"My dick is going to sleep, I think! I'm going to slip out, any second."

"It's OK, I don't think we'll be able to do anything else for a while. I'm not sore, or anything, but I reckon I could be if we do it again this afternoon." She sniffed the air around us. "We really stink of sex! It's a nice smell, but I've no idea how we're going to get ourselves clean without being caught when we go home."

"Well, we've got the blanket, it's sort of like a towel, so that will help a little bit. We'll just have to try to run to the bathroom before anyone sees us. Let's get dressed and stuff, and see what happens after."

After the gloom of our 'love nest', I was expecting to be blinded by the sun outside, but when we emerged, it was hardly brighter than the building had been.

"It looks like it's going to rain, Vic."

"How long will it take to get home?"

"About twenty minutes, fifteen if we get our skates on."

"Come on then, let's go!"

We managed to cover more than two thirds of the distance required in about ten minutes, but then there was a huge clap of thunder, before the heavens opened. 'Coming down in stair rods', as my Dad sometimes said. There was no obvious safe haven close by, and home was only half a mile away, so we just ran. Needless to say, we were utterly drenched by the time we clattered through the front door. Dad took one look at us, and laughed uproariously.

"If there was an award for drowned rats of the year, you pair would win, easily!"

Mum appeared, and of course, she wasn't at all sympathetic.

"Stay in the hall, you're dripping everywhere! I'll find you a couple of towels in a minute. Couldn't you find anywhere to shelter?"

"Sorry Mum, we were almost home, so we just decided to get back as fast as we could."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You'll have to get changed once you've dried yourselves. In fact, we won't be going out anywhere this evening, so you can just wear your pyjamas instead. Just make sure you find some dry underwear when you go upstairs, and then put all of the wet things in the washing basket."

"Yes, Mum."

After Mum and Dad had left the hallway, Vic smirked and whispered in my ear.

"At least we don't have to worry about being smelly! We've had an instant shower!"

****

Vic and I were sniggering like the 11-year-olds we'd been back then.

"I don't ever remember being so wet, in the whole of my life! We were only wearing t-shirts and shorts. Mum chuntered on about us getting pneumonia all evening!"

"Nah, it was never going to happen! We were pretty tough little cookies, Jack, it would've taken more than a bit of rain to slow us down!"

"You were, for sure! Me, not so much. I was scared of my own shadow, half the time. You were definitely the leader, always. But if I'm being fair to myself, I did have some strengths."

"That brain of yours, especially. You were a walking, talking encyclopedia! When I started to talk to Kim on social media, I was totally amazed that you didn't go to uni, you could've been anything!"

"Almost everyone said that, but having other people's expectations being pushed onto you, their trying to pigeonhole me, right back when I was still in primary school, got pretty tedious. If I'd had a specific career in mind, it might have helped - one of my good friends at grammar school always wanted to be a doctor, from when he was 5 years old, and ultimately achieved that aim, but I just didn't have that impetus. I was good at everything, academically speaking, but because I never had to try too hard, I got very lazy, coasting most of the time, until exam time came along, when I always excelled. One of the history masters wrote on my report card 'this boy doesn't deserve this result', after I did minimal work all year, but still got the best exam marks of anyone. I was always going to take A-Levels, but I chose my options based on the least number of essays I would've had to write! Languages were actually my best subjects, in terms of O-Level results, I got A's in English, French and German, but they were far too much work, as far as I was concerned. But then, in the summer holidays between fifth form and Lower Sixth, I got to know a signalman, through cricket. One weekend, he invited me to visit his signalbox - trespassers, like me, were strictly prohibited, but he told there were never any managers around after office hours - and I was immediately hooked. I was never interested in the actual trains - I wasn't a trainspotter, at all - but I was fascinated with the processes of the railway, how the trains were kept safe and punctual, and why that didn't always happen. Eventually, I applied for a job, straight after I'd finished my A-Levels, and got an interview with the Area Manager and one of his underlings. They told me were no vacancies as a signalman locally, and that most of the smaller, traditional boxes were were due to close within three to five years anyway - it took more like 25 years in the end, although 'my' box did disappear, two years later - but there was an opportunity to train as a signal technician instead. And the rest is history, as they say. Dad was very disappointed that I didn't 'better myself', but accepted my decision, Mum was Mum, she didn't speak to me for months, but finally realised that I wasn't going to change my mind, and Liz didn't care either way, she got an office job with the Customs, and eventually progressed to be an uniformed Customs Officer in the docks, never missing a chance to crow about the fact she was 'an officer', while I was a 'mere railwayman'. Her jibes didn't bother me in the slightest, annoying her greatly, but she was much more pleased when I moved away, to London - I'd been 'headhunted' to join a new department which was beginning to implement the computerised, screen based signalling that now looks after the majority of the network these days, which suited me to a tee, my workplace was now a nice, comfortable office 95% of the time, rather being out in all weathers fixing points failures and the like."

"It sounds like it was an interesting job, even if it wasn't high profile."

"It was, and it was pretty well paid, by the standards of BR in the eighties, but it all got far too political after privatisation - instead being one big, if unwieldy family, with everyone more or less pulling in the same direction, the railway was smashed into little pieces by what the Tories did. There were something like 75 different companies at one point, all trying to make a profit and carve out their little empires. It was a bloody mess, to be honest, but it paid the bills for me. There were all sorts of reorganisations and consolidations, my office was relocated three times, to Crewe, then Derby and finally York. That's why I never bought a house, it was far easier to rent, and part of the reason I never found a long-term partner, apart from the year and a half with my ex, although the fact that I was still much more interested in pubescent boys, and the occasional girl of the same age, was the most significant factor in my lifestyle. I still didn't do anything illegal, though, probably more by luck than judgement, I didn't even look for underage porn when the internet boom began, it seemed particularly stupid to go to jail, potentially, just for pictures or videos, especially when the tabloids were fanning the flames of 'paedo hysteria' almost daily. I decided to be celibate, effectively, it was safer for all concerned."

Vic sighed. "I understand your reasons, but it's so sad when a good person like you can't find love and happiness. I had a few hiccups along the way, Tess and I were 'outed' by one of my pupil's parents, it was Tess' birthday in a local restaurant, we were a bit tipsy and being a bit too....affectionate for their tastes. They made a complaint to the school, I thought was I going to be sacked, but in the end, I just ended up being suspended for a few days, and warned about my 'future conduct'. It was just small town bigotry, if we'd been straight, nothing would've been said. It helped that Tess didn't have any connections at the school at all, apart from me, she was from the other side of the island, where I was living at the time, and she was never involved in education, she was an interior designer. And a bloody good one, at that, our house was always immaculate!"

"I'd heard from someone, I can't remember who it was, but someone in the family, that you'd ended up as a PE teacher in Tasmania, that was the only thing I ever found out about your life, after you moved. If the internet and social media had been a thing back then, I reckon we could've kept in touch right through our tween and teenage years, maybe I could've emigrated myself when I was old enough."

"Or I could've gone back here, Jennifer did - she never really settled in Tassie, so she decided to go to uni in the UK. She trained as a vet, met her hubby, Rob, who's also a vet, at Bristol University, and stayed in England. They started a practice together in Somerset, mostly for farm animals, and, of course, horses, given Jennifer's interests, and before long, they were very successful. They're retired now, Jennifer will be 70 next year. I stayed with them for three weeks before I came here, they've got two sons, both of them live locally, although neither wanted to work in the 'family business'. Jennifer and Rob they have got a pair of grandchildren, one boy, Bradley, who's 11, and a girl, Sophie, who's 10, and I tell you, both of those cousins really look like I did at that age. They're besties, too, and have been pretty much all their lives. Remind you of anyone?! Although they haven't got involved with the sort of 'extracurricular exploits' we did, as far as I know!"

I laughed. "Probably best that I don't see them too often, then! Especially in the next three or four years, the very thought of a pair of cuties with your face would give me a nervous breakdown!"

"Nah, you're too kind and considerate to hurt anyone, even if you might enjoy the view!" Nostalgia for our shared past bubbled up in Vic's face. "Enjoying the view, that's tugging at the heartstrings. That bus trip we did, the last week I was at your house, that was so special. I've never forgotten it."

"You're right, it was our swansong, in a way."

****

As we moved into the last full week of Vic's stay with us, we were desperate to maximise the quality time we could share. We were still dutifully involving Liz into our plans, and tolerating hers, but the novelty was rapidly wearing off for my sister on the Monday morning.

"It's boring to go out all the time, we've been everywhere! Why can't we stay at home and play with my toys instead?"

"It's the summer, Liz," Vic said patiently. "In a few weeks time, it'll be raining all the time, and you won't be able to get out at all!"

Liz glowered at her cousin sourly. "Well, I'm fed up with it! And I'm fed up with having you in my bedroom, too!"

"I heard that, madam!" Mum came into the sitting room, her face looking like thunder. "How would you like it if someone said that to you?"

"I don't care! She's never liked me, ever! She's only interested in her know-all boyfriend!"

Mum unceremoniously dragged Liz into her lap and gave my sister two resounding slaps on the buttocks. Liz screamed as though she'd been flayed alive. "If I hear you say something like that again, ever, you won't be able to sit down for a week! What you said was just dirty and disgusting, I've no idea where you've got it from, but don't you dare say things like that. Understand? Up to your room, and stay there until I tell you otherwise. Now go!"

Liz fled upstairs in floods of tears, wailing like a banshee. Vic looked rather shocked, I knew that smacking wasn't part of her family's ethos, she'd been upset by the punishment I'd received that first weekend.

"Don't hurt Liz, Aunty Dawn, please, it makes me scared. She was only being....jealous, I think, because she knows Jack and I are best friends, and she thinks she's missing out somehow. We've really tried to do things that she likes, but we don't want to be stuck indoors when it's nice and sunny."

"That's all very well, Vic, but Liz needs to understand that she can't just say anything she likes and get away with it. You two have been very thoughtful over the last fortnight or so, I really appreciate what you've done. Liz can stay upstairs this morning, she might realise it will benefit her to be more sociable, although I won't be holding my breath in expectation, so if you want to, you can go out for an hour or two. Come back by midday, though, I want to tell all three of you some news, I was just to do that before the fireworks began, but it concerns all of you, so it'll be easier to do it as a job lot. Don't worry, it's nothing bad, in fact, I think you'll be pleased."

"Thanks Mum. Shall we go to the big park, Vic, and see how the birds in the aviary are doing?"

Half an hour or so later, after a cursory visit to our feathered friends, we were sitting on one of the benches at the highest level of the park, always the quietest area there. We could see quite a few people in the distance, but all of them were lower down, towards the playground and the adjacent tennis courts, so there was no chance that we could have been overheard, or even seen. I linked my fingers into hers, making her smile sweetly.

"That's so nice, Jack. I love you."

"I love you too, darling Vic." She was evidently a little surprised at the endearment, but within seconds, she was beaming happily.

"Oh Jack, you're so special! Do you think we can call ourselves....boyfriend and girlfriend. Just between us, I mean, if we tell anyone else, I think it would be a bit....awkward, people wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, you're right about that, for sure. But I'd really like to call you my girlfriend, you're so beautiful and sexy and clever and athletic, and lots of other good things, too. You're the most special person in my life, by miles."

Vic scanned left and right, and seeing no-one anywhere close to us, she leaned in and gave me the most delicious kiss imaginable. Young and inexperienced I might've been, but I was fully erect in about five seconds flat. She whispered in my ear, breathily. "Do you know anywhere here where we can hide, so I can make you feel good?"

There was such a place within a hundred yards, a small part of the boundary fence had been damaged, leading to an grassy field, presumably owned by a local farmer. We climbed thirty yards up the bank and found a shallow depression, completely overgrown by vegetation, where we could simply disappear from view. Vic kissed me once more, then spoke quietly - we were barely closer than fifty yards from the nearest pathway in the park.

"This is just for you, boyfriend! I don't want to get all wet and gooey inside at the moment, but the next time we play, you can give me a massive one, promise! So just relax, and enjoy!"

Her skill at masturbating me was already considerable, but she excelled herself that day. It was literally decades before I was aware of the concept of 'edging', but without realising it, that was what Vic was doing for me. She started slowly and gently, got quicker and with more purpose, before stopping almost completely, then beginning the cycle once more. I was in heaven, the pleasure rippling through my body was exquisite. On and on she went, it must have been fifteen minutes or more of rapture, but finally I could take no more.

"Viccc....ooohhh, yesssss!"

I climaxed so strongly it was almost painful, huge dry throbs racked my penis for what seemed to be ever. Vic was already well versed in terms of my sexual responses, including over-sensitivity at times, so she kindly tapered her stimulation off quickly, simply holding my rapidly waning erection gently in her fingers.

"Oh Vic, thank you so much, that was sooo good!" We kissed unhurriedly, basking in our closeness and feelings of love.

"I'm glad it was nice for you, you deserve it, for sure!" She smiled slightly, but in an almost shy way, as though she was reluctant to say something I might not like.

"What's up, sweet? Tell me, please, I promise I won't be cross, whatever you say."

"We know each other too well, don't we! I know I said I didn't want to anything for me this time, but....I've sort of changed my mind. It's something from Jennifer's book, but I don't know whether you'll like it, or want to do it at all." I said nothing, but tried to look encouraging, so she carried on. "What it is....the book says some people like to....lick or suck each other, on their pussies or dicks. I think it could be sexy, but if you think it'll be too....yucky, we don't have to do it."

I grinned. "I told you before I really like your sex smells, and I've sort-of tasted you already, kind of accidently, when my fingers have gone into your pussy. So if that's what you want, I'll do it for you, definitely! Shall we try?"

"Yeah, please! But just licking, though, don't bite me, that would hurt a lot, I bet."

"I'll be careful, promise."

The next chapter of my sexual education was another success, I loved the mild flavour of her arousal, while she had a strong orgasm without much delay.

"Lovely, Jack, that was really great! I'd suck you, but I don't think we've got enough time, your Mum wants us back earlier, doesn't she?" I concurred. "I'll do it for you as soon as we can, though, you'll love it!"

We rearranged our clothing, brushed each other off - we were both full of grass stalks and other miscellaneous vegetation - and cautiously re-emerged into the park proper. It would've been difficult to explain if we'd suddenly been confronted by a park keeper, but, fortunately, no-one, official or otherwise, was anywhere nearby. We headed towards the main exit, via the (reasonably clean) public toilets, to wash our faces and hands - we were starting to appreciate the implications of any obvious sexual odours - and walked home without undue delay, arriving with ten minutes to spare.

"What do you think your Mum will say?" Vic asked just before we got back.

"I don't really know, but we'll find out pretty soon, I expect." Liz had evidently been allowed back downstairs, she was in the dining room working on a jigsaw puzzle. She looked at us with undisguised dislike, almost contempt, but didn't say anything aloud, doubtless not wanting to upset Mum any further for the moment.

"Oh good, you're here early," Mum said from the kitchen. "Come into the dining room, I've got something to tell you all." Vic and I duly complied, sitting together on two of the chairs by the table, opposite Liz. "Liz, you've been invited to a party on Friday, it's Helen's birthday." Helen was one of Liz's classmates, and probably my sister's best friend. For a change, Liz actually smiled happily. Mum wasn't going to let her off the hook completely, though. "If you behave this week, you can go, but mark my words, if there's another performance like this morning, I'll cancel the invite, even if it's on the day itself. Do you hear me?" Liz pouted a little, but nodded her head without further ado. "Good. I see you've finished your jigsaw, take it upstairs to your room and put it somewhere tidily, then wash your hands, dinner will be ready soon." Liz did as she was told, but as a parting shot, stuck her tongue out in our direction while Mum's back was turned. "Right, quickly before she comes back down, Liz will be going to the party no matter what, because I'm helping with Helen's mother with the food and games. Dad will be working, of course, so we've decided that you two can go on a Wanderbus trip, if you want to." A 'Wanderbus' was a rover ticket that the local bus company, East Kent, had introduced the previous year, permitting more or less unlimited travel for a whole day, throughout their network. I'd been allowed to go on such a trip on my own for the first time the previous school Easter holiday, subject to saving my meagre pocket money carefully - a child ticket was around the price of three weeks' worth of my quota, and it had cost another week's worth to buy a copy of the current timetable book, so I'd only been able to go twice to that point. 

"We'd love to go, but....I haven't got quite enough money at the moment," I said glumly.

"I've got some money left!" Vic said brightly. "I'll pay for both of us!"

Mum smiled benignly. "Don't worry about that, Vic, we'll pay for the ticket this time. Call it an end of visit treat, if you like. Just don't tell Liz, or there'll be another session of whining."

I was genuinely grateful, and said so. "Thank you Mum, it'll be so much fun!"

"You're welcome, but it was Dad's idea really, so he's the one to thank, when you see him."

"I will, I promise!" What I didn't know at the time, or for months after, was that Dad had given up his regular Sunday lunchtime two or three pints at the pub, the only social life he had at the time, to make sure that our day out didn't stress the family finances unduly. Dad was a truly good man, and I was heartbroken when he died at the depressingly young age of 59, after suffering a massive heart attack, just a few months before he was due to take early retirement. Life is simply cruel, all too often.

Vic was a good person that day as well (not that she was other than wonderful in my eyes!), paying for the three of us to go by local bus to the Abbey Gardens, another public park on the outskirts of the town, so that Liz could feed the ducks there. Vic and I would've walked, and had done already earlier in her visit, but it was definitely too far for my sister to attempt. You wouldn't say that Liz was effusive with her thanks, but she was at least vaguely cordial, so the afternoon with us went smoothly enough.

By the time Friday came along, there was a definite bittersweet flavour beginning to assert itself - on the one hand, Vic and I were excited for our expedition, but on the other, we knew our time together was rapidly drawing to a close, Uncle Billy and Aunty June were due to collect Vic on the Monday morning. We distracted ourselves by poring over my timetable, trying to formulate the most exotic itinerary possible. After we'd discussed numerous permutations, we worked out that we could travel on all four of East Kent's summer 'open top' coastal routes, as long as all of the relevant journeys were on time - there was a very tenuous connection, of a mere two minutes, at one point - so we plumped for that option. It meant an early start, before 8:00, but that was no impediment for either of us, we were almost always up with the lark, so we were in the process of packing our sandwiches and snacks into a carrier bag when Liz came downstairs at 7:45. Predictably, our impending departure didn't meet with my sister's approval.

"Where are you two going? Why can't I go?"

"In case you've forgotten, you're going to Helen's birthday party later on," I said tersely.

"That's not until this afternoon. You're supposed to let me play with you, Daddy said so."

"Not today, little lady, Vic and Jack are having a day to themselves this time."

"Daddy! Why aren't you at work?!"

"I'm on afternoons, just for today. One of my oppos is ill, so the boss asked me to cover him." Dad turned to Vic and I. "Have you got everything?" He subtly gestured towards the money in my right hand pocket.

"Yes, Dad, we're ready."

"OK, off you go. I'll probably see you tonight, I should be home by 9:00, unless anything goes awry. Have a good day, and take care of each other."

"We will, Dad. See you later. And thank you."

That was our cue, we hustled out of the front door before Liz had the chance to say anything more. Our hasty exit was the first element of what proved to be one of the best days of my life, certainly to that point. The weather looked slightly suspect first thing, rather grey and misty, but by 10:00 the sun broke through, and it was all blue skies thereafter. The buses were punctual, even the nail-biting two minute connection was made, and the scenery, especially the seaside portions of our route, was lovely. Not as lovely as my companion, though - I spent most of the day holding hands with Vic, apart from the times when our shoulders were wrapped over our arms. One or two of our fellow passengers commented on our closeness, one lady in particular made us blush, pretty much in unison, by saying that we 'made a lovely couple'. We talked by the hour, about our hopes and dreams, our families and friends, and, when we were sufficiently far away from eavesdroppers, about our sexual awakening and its implications. We finally dropped off from our last bus by the castle, fifteen minutes or so from home, just after 6:00. It was still warm and sunny, so we found an adjacent bench to sit on.

"Oh Vic, it's been such an amazing day! Thank you for sharing it with me."

"You've been just as special, too. We'll have find a way to persuade our parents to let us see each other more often. Not sure how yet, but maybe we can work something out."

"I hope so, Vic, I'm really going to miss you."

"Don't think about that at the moment, we've got another two days to enjoy! Let's hope Liz does something dumb again and gets shut into her room all weekend, so we can escape somewhere!"

I was almost shocked at Vic's slightly wicked statement, it was sort of thing my sister would say, rather than my positive, happy and friendly cousin, but at the same time, I couldn't help but smile wryly.

"Have you got Liz poisoning, saying things like that?! Mind you, I reckon you're probably right, it would be a pretty good result!"

****

Much we were crossing our fingers for some 'alone time' as the penultimate day of Vic's stay dawned brightly, and by mid-morning, warmly, it wasn't to be. Liz got up early, by her non-school day standards, no doubt to try to avoid the possibility being left behind once more, sticking to Vic and I like glue, even before breakfast time. The coup de grace to our hopes was most unexpectedly wielded by Dad.

"Seeing as it's such a nice day, Mum and I decided to take you to the beach for the day. You can swim or paddle, throw stones in the sea, if you're careful with other people, play catch, sunbathe, whatever. We'll have a picnic while we're there, there might even be an ice cream in the offing later, you never know your luck!"

Ordinarily, such an outing would have been very welcome, and maybe even more unlikely - quality family time was pretty rare, given Dad's exhausting working life and our straitened financial situation - but I couldn't help being disappointed. Dad took me aside, but not in anger, speaking to me quietly, sympathetically.

"Jack, I know you'd prefer with time with Vic, but we don't get much time together, even in the summer, and Mum deserves a nice day every once in a while, doesn't she?" I nodded slightly. "Good lad, you two will still be able to play, I'll make sure Liz won't be too much of a pain in the proverbials!"

I smiled wanly at his joke, but what he didn't know, of course, was that we were hoping for a completely different sort of 'play'.

A little later, Vic and I managed to find a minute or two alone to discuss developments. I was still more than a little downcast, but Vic, as usual, was ever the optimist.

"It'll be fun, Jack, I'll give you a swimming lesson! And your Dad said that he's going to stop Liz ruining everything." I was evidently looking sceptical, so Vic, greatly daring, given we were 'in the open', as it were, quickly inclined her head and kissed my cheek. "Cheer up, boyfriend," she whispered, "we'll be together, and that's the best thing of all!"

Vic was right, mostly - it was an enjoyable day, but she abjectly failed to help with my hopeless efforts at swimming. It wasn't her fault in the slightest - I'd almost drowned when I was 6, in the municipal open-air pool in our neighbouring town, where two more groups of cousins and their parents lived, and I was still deathly afraid of the water as a result. Fortunately, it didn't detract from the event, particularly when Liz bumped into another of her classmates on the beach, promptly ignoring us, which was a win-win situation as far as we were concerned. We quickly dried ourselves, changed back into our 'summer uniform' of tee shirts, shorts and sandals, and headed for the promenade after Dad mouthed 'yes, you can go', along with a big wink. He knew we weren't going far - there was still the chance of ice cream, after all! - but it was nice to have a small amount of independence once more. We chatted inconsequentially as we walked along the seafront, but as Vic had said, the togetherness was the priority. After ambling towards the clock tower at the western end of the seafront, and back close to where our family were located on the shingle, we found a space in one of the attractive shelters, sitting in companionable silence, simply watching the world go by. After five or so minutes, Vic sighed deeply.

"I wish I lived by the sea. It isn't too far from us, but there aren't many buses where we live, and it's too far to walk. Dad takes us in the car sometimes, but Mum can't drive, so if Dad's working, we're stuck. You're so lucky, all you've got to do is walk out of your front door, walk ten minutes, and you're on the sea front. You could go every day if you wanted to."

"You're right, sweet, I am lucky, when I think about it. But most of the time, because I've always lived here, it's just....there, I suppose. What do they call it - taking it for granted, I think. Maybe your family might move, your Mum was born in the next town to ours, wasn't she? She might want to go back home, some day."

Vic brightened somewhat. "Maybe! It would be brilliant if that happened, because you would only be a few miles away then!" 

"That would be amazing, for sure!" At that moment, I noticed Dad, purposefully heading in our direction. "Oops, I hope we're not in trouble!" As he approached, he smiled, so my qualms seemed to be misplaced.

"Hello, you two. Had a pleasant walk?"

"Yes thanks, Dad, we've just been to the clock tower and back. Is it time to go home now?"

"Not just yet, maybe another half, three-quarters of an hour. But I thought you would like an ice cream!" Our faces lit up. "Liz has had hers already, Alison's mum treated her. Do you know Alison?"

"Not really, I mean I've seen her at school at playtime, and stuff, when she's with Liz, but I don't do anything much with second years, not even with the boys," I said. 'Second year' at my primary school meant someone who was halfway through their junior years, those who were 8 or 9.

"Shame, I think you'd like her. She certainly doesn't let Liz rule the roost, I can tell you! When Liz tried to boss Alison around, she got quite a shock. In the end, it was Alison who was the leader of the little pack, and Liz eventually accepted it! Anyway, this ice cream won't eat itself, so let's go to the kiosk!"

Twenty minutes later, when Dad, Vic and I got back to our niche on the beach, things were obviously wrapping up - Liz had changed back into her street clothes, while Mum was packing up items into bags, preparatory to heading home. Vic and I helped with our remaining belongings, while Dad returned the two deck chairs he and Mum had been using to the attendant. My sister was very subdued, almost dejected. It looked as though there had been a salutary lesson learned about pecking orders in the previous hour!

****

"It didn't last, though, did it?" Vic commented.

"No, it certainly wasn't a turning point. Still, seeing Liz getting her comeuppance, even temporarily, was an unexpected bonus!"

"It makes you wonder how she ever managed to have a partner at all. Most blokes would've run a mile!"

"I don't know how it came about - I knew Dave very slightly, his older brother was in the same class as me at primary school, Dave seemed to be a pretty OK, average sort of guy. It was just after I'd moved to London, so I was barely 21, Liz was 19, and, out of the blue, I got an invitation to an engagement party. I didn't even know they'd been dating, although that wasn't surprising, in all honesty, even when I was still living at home, Liz and I rarely spoke to each other at all. In another nine months, they were married and moved into a flat in the town centre. I got along fine with Dave once I got to know him properly, even though he knew Liz and I were at daggers drawn most of the time. A couple of years later, I was talking to Mum on the phone - we both had phones, by then, landlines, of course, mobiles still weren't a thing yet - and as a throwaway, Mum said 'By the way, you're going to be an uncle, Liz is expecting a baby.' Kim - I've just got the 'little bird' allusion, that was doubtless deliberate on your part, wasn't it, given that Kim's full is Kimberley Swift, her surname came through Dave (Vic grinned and nodded) - was born at the end of 1985, and the family seemed to be fairly settled, but then in the March, Dad collapsed and died. I'd just moved to Crewe, so it was all pretty difficult. Mum wanted me to go back home permanently, but I simply couldn't, given the situation at work - I helped with sorting out the funeral, of course, I was in Kent for nearly a fortnight, but my boss was already getting antsy about the amount of leave I'd taken. It was all very fraught, Mum more or less accused me of abandoning her - bear in mind, I'd been relocated, absolutely not through my own volition, to a place 200-odd miles away, while Liz lived in the same town as Mum, but it was my fault, apparently, that Mum was left on her own. It all became moot in 1989 in any case, with the fallout of my split with Amy - as I said, Mum refused to talk to me for the remaining 15 years of her life. The last time I saw Mum in the flesh, and Liz, for that matter, was at Uncle Ray's funeral in 1999, what a complete bunfight that turned out to be. Liz was waiting for me in the car park at the crematorium, telling me that I wasn't welcome, despite Martin, Uncle Ray's own son, specifically asking me to go, and went it downhill from there. I told Liz what Martin had said, and that I had no intention to leave, so instead, my sister made it abundantly clear that I wasn't allowed to approach Mum, because 'she doesn't want a pervert like you in the family'. Whether that was Mum speaking, or Liz putting words in her mouth, or both, I didn't know or care, I was there to pay my respects to my uncle, as far as I was concerned. So there was plenty of resentment simmering in the background, but it completely blew up when we all went to the funeral reception in the afternoon. I spent most of the time talking to Martin, he was always my 'second best friend' amongst the cousins when we were kids, we never fell out, just drifted apart in the end, he was three years older than us, as you know, and he developed his own friends and interests when he was a teenager. Anyway, it all came to a head when Kim came over and started to chat to us. Kim already knew Martin reasonably well, from various family gatherings, and she remembered me fairly clearly, seemingly, despite her only being not quite four years old when the big rupture happened, so we were soon having a good conversation. Until Liz barged in, ranting and raving, and trying to Kim drag away, physically. My niece turned out to be a very feisty customer, and told her mother in no uncertain terms that she was going to talk to anyone she liked. It turned into a slanging match between the two of them - not for the first time, as I quickly discovered - but, of course, Liz was in the forefront with the insults and slurs. I don't know how much you remember about Martin, but he was a very calm and mild-mannered guy, both as a boy and teenager, and later as an adult, but that day, he was furious with Liz. Hardly surprising, really, it was his father's funeral, after all, and that should've been the priority for everyone, but Liz was trying to make it all about her and her petty grievances and jealousies. In the end, he told her to go back to her table and shut up, or just leave altogether."

"Jeez, the more I hear about Liz, the less I like her, if that's even possible! What an absolute bitch!" Vic said, with feeling. "What happened in the end, that day?"

"From what I heard, Liz wanted to walk out, leaving Kim behind, but she'd taken Mum in her car, and Mum wasn't having any of that, Ray was her brother, obviously, and told - ordered! - Liz to behave respectfully. If looks could kill, there would've multiple fatalities, Kim, Martin, me - naturally - and even Mum would've been in the crosshairs, but order had been restored, just about. The best aspect of the day was to able to connect to Kim - the internet, e-mails, and all that stuff, was kicking in by then, in a big way, we started to talk regularly, and still do, as I said. Liz had told Kim that if she spoke to me, at all, she'd be disowned straight away. 'You can go and live in a children's home, as far as I'm concerned' was Liz's delightful take on things, but my sister was a complete Luddite, especially with I.T., and Kim simply ignored her threats. Dave and Liz were separated by that time, and got divorced the following year, but Kim's dad was always in the picture for her - he was living in a bedsit, so for Kim to live with him wasn't practicable, but she saw him several times a week - and he did his level best to make sure that Kim's life was a good one. His health isn't that great these days, unfortunately, and Kim doesn't get to see him as often as she would like, now she lives and works in Bristol, but they've always been close."

"I was very lucky with both of my parents," Vic mused, "even when I came out, right back in the 'dark age' seventies, they were so supportive. But it seems that most of the negative drama has come from the mothers' side, the same thing happened to Tess, as well, her dad was fine with things, but her mum was horrible to her - not quite to the extent of being disowned, but pretty close. I'm no sociologist, and it might just be coincidence, but it makes me wonder why things went in the way they did. Still, your Dad gave us a big favour that Sunday, regardless of the overall picture."

"Didn't he just!"

****

It was just almost too pat, but it was raining when we awoke on the last full day of Vic's stay with us. Not torrentially, but steadily, nonetheless. If we hadn't been sufficiently downcast before, the drab weather clinched our gloomy mood.

"Typical!" I groused. "At least the rain could've waited until tomorrow. And there's no chance we'll get any Liz-free time, either."

For once, even Vic was struggling to find the 'silver lining'. "I know, it's awful. If she says 'I want you to play with my dolls with me' once more, I'll scream! Mind you, I'll have to pack my cases, anyway, so even if it had been sunny, we would've been stuck indoors, probably."

"I'll help with your packing, so that shouldn't take too long. Unless we hide everything instead, so you can't go back home!"

"I wish something like that would work, but it would just get us in trouble. The next 24 hours will be bad enough, without you getting smacked or locked into your bedroom, so we can't even say goodbye properly."

I sighed. "You're right, but it's going to be really sad not to see you everyday." We were still the first risers of the day, so I gave Vic a big hug, and a brief kiss on the lips. "I hope that's not our last kiss for this visit, but at least we've had one today. I really love you, Vic, and I think I always will."

My darling cousin was just about to respond in kind, but there were footsteps on the stairs, so we had to scramble to make sure we weren't too close together on the sofa. It was a good thing we did, too, because within ten seconds, Mum walked into the sitting room.

"Morning, Aunty Dawn," Vic said brightly.

"Hello, you two. You're up early."

"We've only been down here for a bit," I glanced towards the clock on the wall, "a quarter of an hour, I think."

"Well, it's too soon for breakfast yet, but I'm going to make a pot of tea, so you're welcome to have a cup, if you like."

Vic and I were both tea drinkers, but usually only one cup a day each. "Maybe later, if that's alright, Mum. We both had a drink of water just now."

"Suit yourself. Vic, have you started to sort your things yet?"

"Not yet, Aunty Dawn, but Jack and I were just talking about it before you came down. Jack's going to help me after breakfast."

"That's nice. I bet you're looking forward to seeing your Mum and Dad tomorrow."

Vic's face betrayed her emotions somewhat, her expression was lukewarm, at best. "Well, yes....but it's been fun here, too. And your cooking is so good. Thank you for looking after me."

Mum smiled warmly. "You're more than welcome. I'm sure your parents would done the same for Jack and Liz if the positions were reversed."

The woman turned left towards the kitchen to organise her drink. I grinned wryly. "That was a close one!" I whispered.

"We deserve a bit of luck!" Vic replied, in the same low tone.

The saying 'there's no pleasing some people' could've been made for for my sister. Pretty much straight away when she came downstairs, she started moaning about the weather, even though we'd been on the beach for several hours the previous day, and despite her repeated gripes about her taking her 'everywhere' around the town. "I'm bored!" Liz said fretfully at the breakfast table.

Mum rolled her eyes, not even pretending to sympathise. "How can you be bored, you've only been downstairs for twenty minutes! Go back to bed and get some more sleep, if it's that bad!"

"I'm not tired, just fed up with...." Liz's voice trailed off, as if she couldn't elucidate any specific travails, rather just complaining for its own sake.

"Well, you'll just have to like it or lump it, find a book, or some of your toys, whatever, because Vic and Jack will be busy, they're going to sort Vic's things out, ready for her going home in the morning."

"Jack can't go in my room, he's not allowed!"

"Says who, Madam?!"

"I say! It's my room, I choose who can go in there!"

Dad intervened, sternly. "It's my house, Liz, mine and Mum's. When you're old enough to pay the bills, come back and we can discuss this further. Jack isn't going to touch anything of yours, but it you think Vic is going to lug everything into Jack's room, just to pack her suitcases, you're sadly mistaken!"

The all-too-familiar refrain, and its snivelling counterpart, was quickly evident. "It's not fair! I can't do anything without being told off!" Liz grizzled.

"Give me strength!" Mum muttered. But then she had a lightbulb moment. "I know what you can do! Aunty Joy has asked me to bake some cakes for her nephew's engagement party, you can help me in the kitchen." Joy was an honorary aunt, she was Mum's best friend, they'd been friends before I was born. She wasn't able to have children of her own, due to medical problems, so she was inclined to spoil Liz and I when she got the chance, sweets, ice cream, and even occasional 'bonus pocket money' were often forthcoming. Liz was still sulky at the prospect of Mum's idea, but I detected a slightly calculating gleam in her eye.

"Can we take the cakes to Aunty Joy's house later on? You said Vic and Jack will be busy, so they can't go, can they?" 

Definitely a Liz manoeuvre in the offing, she was angling to snaffle any or all of the potential treats for herself.

Dad chipped in. "That might be a good idea, we can go after dinner, I haven't seen Uncle Lloyd for a while, he hasn't been too well, so I'm sure he'd enjoy a little chinwag, let him know what's been happening at work recently." Lloyd, Joy's husband, was somewhat older than Dad, by perhaps ten years, he'd been injured rather badly when he was serving in the navy during World War Two, and although he'd recovered somewhat - he met Dad after he'd been demobbed, they ended up working together for more than 20 years - his health had never been that robust, as a result he'd recently taken early retirement. Dad turned to Vic and I. "I reckon it would be a bit much for Uncle Lloyd to descend on him mob handed. You two are sensible enough to look after yourself for a couple of hours, what do you think?"

It was all I could do to avoid whooping for joy! Two hours, maybe more with luck, alone with Vic! I could hardly believe it! "T....that'll be fine, Dad, we'll be good."

"No swanning off on your own, though, even if the weather perks up. We need to know where you'll be. OK?"

"Yes, Dad, we'll stay at home, I promise."

As if we were going anywhere else! What a chance to put on the proverbial cherry on the top of our unforgettable summer!

Once we'd had a chance to speak privately, Vic asked the question both of us were wondering about.

"Does he know about us, do you think?"

"I don't think so, we've been very careful. Maybe he's guessed there's something going on, but maybe he's just being kind, giving us time together without Liz wrecking everything."

"Let's get on with my packing, anyway, or we won't have any time to do anything else."

"Aye aye, Captain!"

Even with both of us working diligently, it took more than two hours to get Vic's clothes and other belongings organised. Mum gave us an unconvinced look when we told her that everything had been done, but after a few minutes scrutiny, she was satisfied with our efforts.

"Well done, that went better than I would have expected. Have you remembered to leave some clean clothes out for travelling tomorrow, Vic?"

"Yes, Aunty Dawn, they're in the little bedside cabinet. The only stuff left is what I'm wearing now, and my pyjamas for tonight."

"I'm impressed, if I need a pair of suitcase packers, I'll give you a shout! Dinner will be ready in about half an hour, and I've left you a cupcake each for afters, they're in the cupboard by the cereal boxes."

"Thank you, Mum, we'll be in my room for a few minutes for a rest, and then come down shortly."

Mum's Sunday dinner was up to its usual high standard, and the cakes were equally tasty, leaving Vic and I feeling somewhat bloated.

"What are you pair planning for this afternoon?" Dad asked.

"I might have one of your Sunday afternoon naps!" I grinned mischievously. Dad was notorious for flaking out after his regular weekend visits to the pub.

"I walked into that one, didn't I, you cheeky monkey! I'm sure you'll find something interesting to do, just remember, don't let anyone in while Mum and I are out, and no mysterious trips out, either. I think we'll be ready to go shortly, the rain's almost stopped, finally, so we'll make the most of the lull. Take care, and we'll see you later on."

Five minutes later, the front door closed, and Vic and I had the house to ourselves. My girl grinned gleefully.

"Shall we go to bed?" Vic asked enticingly.

Excited as I was, my rational mind was still working, albeit only barely.

"Let's wait for a few minutes, just in case they come back for some reason. We can kiss now, though, if you want."

"I want!" We poured ourselves onto the sofa, our lips locked passionately together. Vic's fingers found my erection without much delay, while I caressed her tiny, barely there, breast buds tenderly. After a few minutes of breathless foreplay, even if we didn't know the word at that point, the temperature between us was close to boiling point.

"I think we're safe now, Vic. Time to go to my room?"

"Oh yes please, Jack!"

The temptation was to strip immediately, leaving a trail of clothing behind us, but once more caution was the watchword.

"Keep our clothes close by, Vic, so we can get dressed quickly if they come back unexpectedly. Don't worry about underwear, that's too fiddly if we're in a rush, put them under my pillow, we can rescue them later if we need to." We were only clad in our usual tee shirts and shorts, so it would've been a matter of seconds for us to be 'decent' in an emergency.

"Have I told you you're a genius! I would've never thought about that sort of stuff!"

I beamed at her compliment, but another thought struck me, one that made me less confident in my mind.

"Can I undress you Vic, please?" I asked shyly. "I've never done that before, I bet it would be really sexy."

"Course you can, we're boyfriend and girlfriend, we can do what ever we like for each other!"

It wasn't a long or complicated affair to get my special girl au naturel, given our minimal garb, but it was nonetheless erotic. I kissed her once more, all over, and it was obvious that she was enjoying the attention greatly - when I was ready to concentrate on her inner thighs and pubic area, her vulva was visibly damp, and by the time my gentle finger penetrated her vagina, she was outrightly wet inside. She moaned softly, her face a picture of pure pleasure.

"Oh Jack, that feels so wonderful." A second finger slipped in without difficulty, redoubling her gasps of enjoyment. "Put your dick into me, Jack, I'm so ready for this!"

I could've said the same, but the time of talking was past. I knelt between her thighs, shuffled into the right position, now I was familiar with the relevant orientation, and within seconds I was in heaven once more.

"Oh darling Vic, it feels so good, every time! Are you alright, did I go too fast?"

"It's awesome, Jack! Having you inside me is the best thing in the world!"

I was just about to begin the movements of intercourse, when I was startled by a new sensation, one that made me squeak in a strange mixture of intense pleasure, almost euphoria, and alarm. My penis was being rhythmically gripped, like a vice, deep inside Vic's body. It happened three, four, five times, and for long seconds, I couldn't catch my breath at all. The pulsations died down briefly, before another set made me gasp anew. Vic giggled.

"Did you like that, Jack?!"

"D....did you do that deliberately?"

"Yep!"

"How? It was so good, it was scary!"

"I flexed my pussy muscles, I've been practising with my fingers in bed. Well, there's nothing else to do at night, apart from listening to Liz's snoring! See if you can do it with your dick muscles, I bet you could!"

Vic was right, I could twitch my penis quite readily, but within a few seconds, I felt a strong urge to urinate.

"Sorry, sweet, I don't think I should do that inside you, I was afraid I was going to pee, straight away. I don't want to make a horrible mess everywhere."

"Never mind, at least you know how to do it now. Let's just do the stuff we know about already, I'm ready for a big feeling!"

And I was ready to do my part, too. The next ninety minutes were a blur of sheer bliss, the last of the four couplings we enjoyed was spectacular, culminating with a double orgasm for Vic and an equally exceptional climax for me. The only problem was that we were exhausted, and slightly sore, to boot. 

"Oh Jack, I don't want to stop, but I don't think I'll be able to do anything else for a while!"

"I'm the same, sweet, I've heard the saying 'having too much of a good thing', I reckon that's where we're heading! Anyway, we'll have to get washed and dressed soon, we definitely don't want to get caught by Mum and Dad."

The weather we'd been so disappointed about early in the day conspired to help us in the event. Just after we'd gone back downstairs, looking and, more to the point, smelling fresh and more or less unsullied, the rain returned with a vengeance.

"I doubt they'll walk back in this lot," I observed. "We're going to have a few extra minutes without worrying about Liz, or anyone else, for that matter."

"Good, I've tried to be nice to her all the time I've been here, but it's just impossible sometimes. She's so selfish and horrible, especially towards you, it makes me so cross."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm used to it, Vic, I ignore her almost all the time, unless she does anything really annoying. I always get the blame if I do retaliate, so it's pointless to worry about it, really." I yawned spontaneously. "Sorry, sweet, I'm not bored with you, just really tired, all of a sudden."

She kissed my cheek, to let me know she wasn't offended. "Me too! Let's have a little rest, while it's quiet."

The next thing I remember was Dad looking at me with amusement, with Vic resting her head onto my shoulder, sleeping peacefully. 

"You weren't joking, then, about having a nap! Like father, like son - and niece, it seems!"

Vic woke up with a start, looking embarrassed.

"Sorry, Uncle Barney, we just....fell asleep for a while."

"Don't apologise, Vic, you obviously needed it. You've got a long journey ahead tomorrow. As long you two are OK, Aunty Dawn was a bit concerned, she said she's never seen Jack asleep in the afternoon, unless he's ill."

"No, I'm fine, and I think Jack's OK, too." I nodded my head in confirmation. "We've been busy all the time since I arrived, maybe it's just caught up with us."

"Well, you certainly have walked a few miles and climbed plenty of hills this trip, from what you've told us. We'll have some tea soon, only sandwiches and that sort of thing, after that big dinner, but I know you're both growing apace, so a top up won't do any harm!"

Liz appeared in the sitting room, looking smug. "I got plenty of sweets from Aunty Joy. Hard luck, they're all gone now!"

Dad smiled knowingly at us. "Not quite all, Liz." He went to his pocket, and brought out a pack of Fruit Pastilles, one of our favourite treats, for each of us. "Not until after tea, you two. Say thank you to Aunty Joy when you next see her, please." Liz scowled at having her thunder stolen so unexpectedly.

"I'll tell her, Dad, and thank you too, for being so kind to us."

"You're more than welcome!"

****

"Oh, for the strength of youth!" Vic smiled reminiscently. "Doing it like a couple of horny little minks, weren't we!"

I laughed out loud. "Sadly, I don't think I've ever got to that level, before or since! But was it so special, so wonderful, so absolutely unforgettable!"

"Yeah, you're spot on! Tess and I had some awesome times together, but that Sunday afternoon was one of a kind! And the thing that's almost as amazing is that we never got caught, by anyone! Some love god, or goddess, was looking after us, for sure!"

"We certainly were lucky, as well as happy, that day. But it was still thoroughly bittersweet, given what happened after that."

****

It was very early, before 6:00, when Vic and I went downstairs on the Monday morning. Nothing was pre-planned, but we both seemed to know instinctively that our best chance to have a few private moments together would fall before the rest of the family was stirring. We embraced, then kissed briefly - any more would've been too risky - before we settled in what had become 'our' niche, the end of the sofa closest to Dad's favourite armchair, speaking in hushed voices. 

"Oh, my darling, I can't believe the time has gone so quickly! I thought three weeks would be ages, more than enough to do whatever we wanted to do, but now, even three years wouldn't be enough. I'm going to miss you so much!"

"I know, I feel the same!" Vic looking into my eyes, dolefully. "We've always had loads of fun together, but this visit has been something completely different." She looked pensive, seemingly concerned about her next statement. "Jack....I want to be your girlfriend, for always. I love you, and only you. Y....you do feel the same, don't you?"

I didn't hesitate for a second. "Vic, of course I do! You're the most special person in my whole life, easily. I want to be the best boyfriend I can for you, all the time." There was still no evidence of anyone else in the house being awake, so I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her, as deeply and as meaningfully as I could. "You're the only one for me, darling Vic."

There were a few more minutes of sweet nothings, but footsteps upstairs, and the sound of a toilet being flushed, signalled the end of our intimacy. I suspected that Dad would be the next arrival in the sitting room, he was usually an early riser, even when he wasn't working - that Monday marked the first day of his annual works holiday, not that we would be going anywhere special, our financial issues didn't allow that - and that suspicion proved to be accurate. He walked into the room in an leisurely fashion, saw us side by side, as per usual, and smiled slightly, with a tinge of regret in his expression, it seemed.

"Good morning, both. I woke up feeling peckish, fancy some tea and toast? I doubt the ladies, present company excepted, will be down any time soon."

Vic and I glanced at each other for a second, before nodding in unison.

"Yes please, Uncle Barney. Shall we set the table?"

"Well, we're only having toast for now, so we don't need anything much doing, but thank you for asking, Vic. It's been an absolute pleasure to have your company for the last few weeks, you're such a nice and cheerful person. Unlike a certain person I could name. Anyway, stay where you are for now, I'll give you a call when everything's ready."

A few minutes later, the three of us were sitting at the dinner table, munching on toast and chit-chatting inconsequently but pleasantly. Until my sister appeared, glowering as usual.

"Where's my toast?!"

"And a good morning to you, too, Liz," Dad said with a voice laden with irony. "Your toast is in the bread bin, and it'll stay there until you've learned some manners."

"They've had theirs," Liz said, gesturing at Vic and I, "why can't I have mine?"

"Because they know how to say 'please' and 'thank you', rather than acting like a horrible brat. Try going out, then come back in a more sociable fashion. This isn't a hotel, madam, and even if it was, you'd be thrown out by the management with an attitude like yours."

Liz rolled her eyes rudely. "Please can I have some breakfast, Dad?" she said, with an obviously sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Yes. Liz - once you can speak politely to people, and mean it."

"I'm going to get some cereal, instead."

"Elizabeth," - for Dad to use her full name was a rarity, and a sign that she was skating on very thin ice - "sit down at the table, and don't you dare move until I say otherwise. I'm sick to the back teeth of your behaviour, and if you don't mend your ways, you'll be spending a lot of your time in your bedroom. You know I'm off work for the next two weeks, and if it comes to it, I'll supervise you personally if necessary. Which is something you'll regret, mark my words. Do you understand?" Liz mumbled something unintelligible, but did nod her head in assent. "Right. Let's have a rewind. Good morning, Liz, would you like some breakfast?"

"Some toast please, Dad."

"That's better, thank you. All that conflict could've been avoided, couldn't it?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Good." He turned to us. "We'll probably have a cooked breakfast a bit later on, to make sure Vic is well fuelled up for her back trip home, so are you two OK to wait for the second course?"

We nodded. "Can we walk around the block for a few minutes, please?" I asked. "It's a nice day, and we'd like to say goodbye to each other on our own."

"That's fine, but don't be too long, please, we don't want to end up running late for Vic's parents." Dad glanced at his watch. "Half an hour, OK?"

"OK, Dad."

The man headed towards to the kitchen to organise Liz's toast, and as soon his back was turned, my sister gave Vic and I the filthiest look imaginable. Vic was the target for most of Liz's venom in this instance, glaring at my girl with undisguised loathing.

"I hope your car crashes," she said nastily, if quietly, "so I don't have see you again, ever. Vic-tor-ia!"

Living in and around army bases, Vic's vocabulary of abusive language was extensive, and certainly more extensive than mine, albeit that she almost never used it 'in anger', as it were. There's always an exception, though. Vic marched towards to my sister, until they were almost nose-to-nose, then let fly with an absolute tirade of the most foul-mouthed words under the sun. I doubt if Liz had even heard of more than a quarter of the terms her cousin used, and understood even fewer, but Vic's intention was crystal clear, making Liz burst into tears.

"I'm telling on you!" Liz wailed.

"Help yourself, you scumbag! You're the most horrible person I've ever met, bar none. I hope you fall into a deep, dark hole, sooner rather than later!"

"What's going on here?" Dad said sharply, as he re-entered the room.

"She swore at me, lots of times!" Liz blubbered.

"I'm not surprised, you'd make a saint swear, half the time!" He looked at us, unreadably. "I thought you pair wanted to go out." We nodded. "Well go, otherwise you won't have enough time left. Scram!"

We made a hasty exit, before he changed his mind. As we were closing the front door, Liz was still in full flow, weepily recounting Vic's 'dirty words' for Dad's benefit. What he thought about the spat was a mystery to me, but Vic's reaction was unmistakable - she laughed with unrestrained glee.

"I've wanted to tell Liz what I think of her for ages, and she gave me the perfect opportunity!"

"Blimey, Vic, I didn't know you knew so many words like that! I'm amazed! Where did you get them from?"

"From the camp, mostly. Soldiers swear all the time, and a lot of kids at home, especially the boys, copy them because they think it's clever or cool, or something. I think it's pretty stupid, but occasionally if you give someone a mouthful when they're not expecting it, it can be really funny. Liz got a shock, for sure!"

We walked in the direction of the big park, but stopped about halfway up, settling ourselves on a bench, slightly damp from the morning dew, where there was a secluded spot. We held hands for a few minutes, neither of us really knowing what to say to each other. I sighed at the juxtaposition of emotions, the delight of our close contact battling with the implacable, sorrowful knowledge that it was going to end, all too soon. 

"Do you think we should write to each other, like pen pals? Or would that be too sad?" I asked my girl.

"I don't know, I haven't thought about what happens next for us. We wouldn't be able to say anything too personal, really, just imagine what it would be like if Liz found one of our letters in your room. Nightmare!"

"It would be nice to talk to you sometimes, but neither of us have phones at home, and I don't think that would change any time soon - I've already heard Mum and Dad talking about having a phone, but they were both saying it was too expensive. Liz would always be earwigging, anyway."

We lapsed back into despondency for another minute or so, until the unmistakable sound of an East Kent bus, one of their older models used on one of their village routes that traversed the hill between the park and where we sitting, broke the silence. From my familiarity with the timetable, I knew that it was almost 9:00, the time that Dad suggested we should be back at home. It was almost all I could do avoid crying there and then, but I pulled myself together, with a considerable effort.

"We'd better get back, sweet. I don't want to upset Mum and Dad too much."

Vic moaned in frustration. "Do we have to? Can't we stay here for a bit longer?"

"I'd love to, but I don't think it would be a good idea. If Mum gets a bee in her bonnet about us being late, she might send me to my room until you go, and that would be a disaster."

"I didn't think about that sort of stuff. You're right, I don't want any more sad news this morning." She looked around for a moment. "There's no-one here at the moment. One more kiss, please?"

As if I would ever refuse a request like that! In reality, our lips were in contact for maybe ten seconds, but the kiss was timeless, redolent of joy and sorrow, connection and rending loss, but most of all, love, love for my cousin, my best friend, my beloved, and, I hoped, my forever soulmate. 

But the moment was at an end, the mundane reasserted itself, it was time to go back to the everyday. We didn't rush to beat the implicit deadline, but neither did we dawdle, so there were no repercussions for our very slight tardiness. The aftermath of my cousin's invective against Liz, though, was looking like being far more of an issue. I would've said that Dad looked angry, exactly, but his disapproval seemed to be evident.

"A word, Vic, in the sitting room, please," he said firmly. Liz took two steps in that direction as well, hoping for some entertainment at Vic's expense, doubtless, only to be put in her place, almost brutally. "Not you, this is private between Vic and I. Stay in the kitchen, you've caused far too many problems already. You can mind your own business!" He turned on his heel, closing the door resoundingly.

If Liz had been abashed by Dad's rebuke, it didn't last long. "She's in big, big trouble now! I told Dad everything she said. I hope he smacks her with a big stick!" Her face was a picture of distasteful, oily sanctimony. 

Mum, busily frying eggs and bacon for everyone's breakfast, wasn't at all pleased at my sister's comment.

"You are a thoroughly nasty piece of work sometimes, Liz. I really don't know where you get it from, are you naturally disagreeable, or do you have to practice?" Liz pouted, yet again.

"She doesn't like me, so why should I pretend to like her?"

"This 'she' business needs to stop, Vic has got a name, so kindly use it."

"I'm not allowed to use her proper name, everybody tells me off if I do."

"So you would prefer that we use your 'proper name' all the time, then, Elizabeth?"

"T....that's d....different," my sister stuttered, "I'm not trying to be a boy, like sh....like Vic does."

Mum shook her head. "You've no idea how other people work, do you? Mind you, you're so self-centred at times, I'm not really surprised."

I was listening to the conversation between Mum and Liz to a degree, but I was more than a little distracted by the thought of what was might be happening to my girl at Dad's hands in the other room. I fervently hoped that Dad wouldn't smack her, but what she'd said was beyond anything I'd ever heard, and the uncertainty was killing me. Until the silence was broken by a huge belly laugh from Dad, through the still closed sitting room door, making me grin in relief. I knew, 100%, that Dad would've never laugh at someone in pain, that was simply not part of his character. Thirty seconds later, the door opened, and uncle and niece emerged, full of smiles. Unlike my sister, Liz's face betrayed a mix of disbelief and the loss of a chance to crow at another person's misfortune. Dad recognised Liz's expression for what it was in a heartbeat, and looked at his daughter levelly.

"Yes, I know what you wanted to happen, Liz, but there are plenty of different ways to deal with disagreements and their consequences. Vic knows what she said was wrong, and inappropriate, but there's such a thing as provocation, too. We've discussed what happened, and why, and the matter is now closed. Right, you three, set the table, please, we'll be having breakfast part two in a few minutes."

The meal was typically tasty, given Mum's culinary skills, but swallowing it, in the throes of the emotional turmoil I was feeling, was no easy task. "Come on, Jack," Mum said, "everything will be cold unless you buck your ideas up."

"Sorry, Mum, I....I'm not that hungry, all of a sudden."

The 'human dustbin' that was my sister instantly piped up. "I'll eat it, if you don't want it." The thought of Mum's nice food being 'wasted' in my sibling's direction was enough to revive my appetite.

"No thanks, Liz, I'll manage on my own."

After the meal was finished, and with everything washed up and tidied, another death knell sounded in my already low mood. "Vic, go upstairs and have another check that you haven't forgotten anything, please. Jack will help with carrying your cases downstairs," Mum said.

With heavy hearts, Vic and I did as Mum asked. Two or three minutes later, the woman appeared in the doorway of Liz's room. "Got everything, Vic?"

"I think so, Aunty Dawn."

Mum looked around cursorily, opening the drawers and the corner of Liz's wardrobe Vic had been using. "I can't see anything on the missing list, but if we find any stray bits and pieces, we'll keep them safe for you until you're next here".

"Thank you, Aunty Dawn."

"OK, you pair, let's get the cases down, put them tidily in the hall, Jack, so no-one trips over them."

That task done, Vic and I sat back in our usual corner of the sitting room. Liz was almost jubilant.

"At last!" she said acidly, but quietly, lest Mum and Dad heard. "I've got my bedroom back!" She was obviously goading us to respond, but we were just too gloomy to rise to her bait. Realising her gambit was failing, she tried to up the ante. "I'm going to make sure you haven't taken any of my stuff before you go." Vic looked incensed at the implicit accusation of theft, and looked as though she was ready to fire back immediately, but I shook my head firmly.

"Don't, Vic, that's what she wants." Liz huffed in frustration, before noisily ascended the stairs.

"Thanks, Jack, I was losing my temper again, but you saved me!"

"Like I've said before, she always wants to get people in trouble. I suppose it makes her better about herself, or tries to pretend that she's the good person all the time, but I know better, and after this trip, I reckon you've found that about her, too."

Vic looked at the clock, sighing at what the device was telling her.

"Mum and Dad will be here any time now, from what what Uncle Barney said last night. I do want to see them, but, at the same time, I don't, if you know what I mean."

I nodded sadly at the sentiment, but before I could say anything more, a car drew up, and two doors were closed.

"On the dot, that's the military way," Vic said wryly. "Let's open the front door for them, even though that's not what we want."

We were ready to do our duty as soon as the bell rang.

"That's silver service!" Uncle Billy laughed.

"Hi Dad, Hi Mum!" Vic said brightly. "We saw the car outside. Have you had a good trip?"

"Yes, thanks, we'll tell you all about it soon, but not until we see Jennifer this evening, because it affects all four of us. So you'll have be patient, for a few hours more!" Aunty June said smilingly.

My Mum and Dad were on the scene by then, greeting the family members warmly.

Uncle Billy wrapped up his daughter into a firm side hug. "Has this one been good for you, Dawn?"

"Absolutely, she's been an angel, the whole time. Unlike the 'Incredible Sulk', who's in her room at the moment, I'm afraid, but that's no fault of Vic's." Mum called up the stairs. "Liz, Uncle Billy and Aunty June are here, come and say hello!"

Billy turned to me. "Have you pair of rogues had a good time?"

"It's been brilliant, Uncle Billy! Can't Vic stay a bit longer?"

There was a moment's hesitation in his face before he replied. "S....sorry, sunshine, we've....got a lot to do back at home. I'm glad you've a good time, though, and thank you for looking after Vic for us."

"That was easy, Uncle Billy, Vic is my best friend in the world, I'd always look after her."

"I know, you've always been like two peas in a pod, right from when you were toddlers. I...." The man stumbled over his words once more, as though he wanted to say more, but just couldn't. "Thank you, Jack, for everything."

Vic had been speaking to her mum, but soon gravitated towards to me, and to her dad. 

"Dad, we've been looking at Jack's bus timetable, there's a coach, once a day, all the way from here to Bournemouth. Jack could come and see us at half term, if you could pick him up from there, he's old enough to go on his own now. Please Dad, it would be great to show him my favourite places, for once."

"We'll see, sweetheart. There'll be a lot of water under the bridge before that happens."

'We'll see', one of the those parental stock phrases which usually mean 'no', more or less gently, rather than a bald refusal, but 'no', nonetheless. Vic and I looked at each other helplessly, already fearing the worst. Except that the 'worst' turned out to be far beyond anything we could envisage. But that day was bad enough in its own right, especially when Uncle Billy said 'Right troops, time to get this show on the road'. I carried the biggest of Vic's cases to the car without having to be told, it gave me an excuse to be close to her for as long as humanly possible. But the dreaded moment couldn't be postponed any further. My immediate family had never been physically demonstrative, I couldn't remember the last time I'd been hugged, by either of my parents, but I couldn't but hug Vic, right there on the pavement outside of our house, and she reciprocated in kind, without the least awkwardness. She whispered in my ear, softly.

"Don't forget me, boyfriend, I love you so much."

"I love you just as much, darling Vic. I can't wait until the next time we see each other." Aunty June cleared her throat, as a not-so-subtle hint to Vic to get into the car, and we disengaged for the last time. As I moved away a little, I noticed two things - Liz smirking mirthlessly, mouthing 'K-i-s-s-i-n-g' at me, and the respective fathers talking privately together. Uncle Billy was saying something to my Dad which made him nod in agreement, before both men looked at me intensely. Their obvious scrutiny made me uncomfortable in an instant, quickly averting their gaze, seeking solace instead in my girl's eyes. She'd closed the car door and settled into the back seat, but had wound down the window, giving me a melancholic smile. As Uncle Billy got into the driving seat, Vic and I touched our fingertips together.

"'Bye Vic, see you soon."

"'Bye Jack, thank you for making this trip so special for me."

And then the engine burst into life, meaning that I was forced to withdraw my hand. Everyone waved, but my eyes were completely fixed on Vic's. As the car moved off, my girl blew me a little kiss, but then, just like that, she was gone. The rest of the family went inside, but I couldn't bring myself to follow, as though I was clinging on to the faint hope that Vic and company had forgotten something and would have to come back, but it wasn't to be. After a good five minutes, I turned back towards the house, to see my sister in the sitting room window, still smirking, before sticking her tongue out in my direction. For a second or two I was livid, all I wanted to do was to beat her senseless, but the emotion quickly passed, being replaced by hopeless desolation. I closed the front door, before quietly going up to my bedroom. Without the recent 'Vic' restriction, I was able to close my door too, but it was no consolation, particularly because I could still smell traces of my girl's characteristic aroma, given the number of times she'd been in the room in the previous three weeks or so. 'Boys don't cry', or so they say, but this boy did. I threw myself onto the bed, burrowed my face into the pillow, and cried my eyes out. 

****

"Oh Jack, you poor thing. That was a real 'three-hanky' memory."

"It wasn't a great day, to say the least. I eventually calmed down a bit, in the afternoon, and went for a walk, but it didn't help, especially when I dragged myself to the Heights, right to the top, that place where we....played sexy together for the first time. I pla....sorry, that's far too much information, I'm sure you wouldn't be interested in 'little boys' practices!"

Vic laughed like a drain. "Don't be so sure! Some 'little girls' did it, too. In my case, I did it in the car, that very day! Twice! It's easier for girls to hide it, too, as long as they keep quiet!"

"Naughty! But nice, too! I just wanted to relive some of that time together, and, yes, the tally was two for me, as well!"

"But when we brought Jennifer home, in the evening, the sweetness was rapidly eclipsed by the utmost sourness, when Mum and Dad told us about their trip, and its consequences. I know I said that I almost never cry, but....that day was one of the few exceptions. I had an absolute meltdown."

"You and me both, although my meltdown didn't happen for nearly a month."

****

In the days and weeks after Vic had gone home, there was fair amount to distract me from the nagging sadness of her absence. Most notably, the impending approach of a big change in my life - the step from primary to senior school. I was going to the Boys' Grammar, still a state school, rather than a private, fee-paying institution, but a school with a good reputation, with only around 20% of my coevals being deemed to be sufficiently 'clever' to be invited to attend. The cutoff point was never an issue for me, because without conceit, I'd always been the 'bright boy', earmarked for preferment throughout my educational career to that point. In fact, my parents had been told that I was in the top ten in the whole county, in terms of the 'Kent Tests' assessment in the previous school year, when I was still 10, not just the local area. I wasn't aware of my status as 'gifted' at all, though, I'd just gone to school, did all of the work that I'd been instructed to do, and consistently got top marks, pretty much all of the time. Apart from the nervousness around the change of scenery, as opposed to the comfortable, familiar surroundings I was used to in 'the juniors', there were ancillary concerns - I had to go with Dad to the 'gentlemen's outfitters' in the town centre to get my new school uniform, and there was the usual stationery and odds and ends like that, so that when I was appropriately 'suited and booted' on the second Thursday of September - why a Thursday, I've no idea, but a short week after the summer holiday was traditional, in those days - I was as ready to face the unknown as I would ever be. There were a number of my schoolmates from my old school, including one who I got along with well enough already, and he chanced to be placed in the same form as me, so there was a friendly face from day one for me. I got through that first two days, and the subsequent full school week, without undue stress, so I was looking forward to a relaxed weekend, particularly when the weather proved to very pleasant for the time of the year.

But then the sky fell in. I should've known that something was afoot when Dad suggested that we should have a stroll together. We'd done that when I was considerably younger, but once I was allowed to go out on my own, maybe three years or so previously, a walk with Dad almost never happened. In my 11 year old naïvety, I took it at face value, and by mid-morning, we were ambling along the promenade, enjoying the sea air and the late summer sunshine. Dad called for a rest, via the same the beach kiosk we'd patronised when Vic had been with us, a month or so earlier. An ice cream in the morning was more or less unprecedented, but I wasn't inclined to argue with his choice. We sat in one of the shelters once more, chatting about my impressions of the new school, for the most part. We'd finished our frozen treats, and there was an air of hiatus, something new was coming. Dad looked at me, almost as intensely as he and Uncle Billy had on the day of Vic's departure. My initial worry was he did, indeed, know about what Vic and I had been doing together, and I started to formulate an excuse, a denial, to keep my girl and I safe from any negative consequences. But when he began to speak, all of that went out of the window.

"Jack," he said slowly and deliberately, "there's some news I need to discuss with you. I'm not going to beat around the bush, Uncle Billy, Aunty June, Jennifer and Vic are going to move, within a month. And they're moving a long way away."

"Where to?" My mind was on Scotland, or maybe back to Germany again.

"Tasmania. I'm sorry, Jack."

The place name didn't compute in my brain immediately, but when it did, it was with a click that was almost audible.

"T....that's part of Australia, isn't it?" I was shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm afraid so. The British Army has told Uncle Billy he won't be given a new contract, they say he's too old. But one of his officers has got some connections with the Australian Army, and they're more than happy to take him as an instructor, at the same rank that he is now. The army is the only thing he knows, he won't be able to cope with 'civvy street', he knows that already. This way he can look after his family, Aunty June and the girls, in a place where they can have a nice life."

"But....I'll never see Vic again!" I was on the ragged edge of falling apart completely. "You knew about this stuff ages ago, didn't you? You've always told me to tell the truth, but you weren't telling me the truth, were you?"

"Jack, this is the honest truth. I knew Billy and June were going abroad, and why, but nothing had been confirmed until they were in Australia. The army there liked what Billy was able to offer, and Billy liked them, too. June had looked around in the area where the family was likely to be living, and she loved it, she said it was 'a dream come true' compared with the camp where they'd been living in the UK. So when they got back, and told us about everything on the day they visited us to take Vic back home, they told us, provisionally, they'd decided to go away, once the small print had been finalised. We couldn't tell you or Liz, or even Vic, straight away, because they hadn't told Jennifer at that point, she was still in Dorset. Billy and I decided to wait before telling anyone else, apart from Jennifer and Vic themselves, until it was 100% signed and sealed. Mum and I got that letter on Wednesday, but we knew it would be upsetting for you, so that's why it's been until today, once you were off school, before I've told you."

The dam of my emotions had been teetering on the brink of collapse for the previous ten minutes, and the breach burst, spectacularly. I sobbed piteously, like a toddler, tears were streaming down my face.

"It's not fair! Vic's my best friend in the world, and now I'll never, ever see her again! And I'm her best friend, too, so it's not fair on her, either!"

Dad was a good man, a good and loving father, but he wasn't an emotional man, and he wasn't best equipped to deal with the tsunami of heartbreak that was coming his way. "Jack, pull yourself together, people are looking!"

"That's all you care about, is it?! Well, you won't have to worry that anymore!" Before he could even move, I just ran. And ran, further and faster than I'd ever run before. I didn't look back, but I instinctively knew that Dad wouldn't be able to catch me, he was a very strong man, but he wasn't a runner, he was a regular smoker, as many adults in that era were, and he was also hampered by a knee injury sustained at work years earlier that had never been properly addressed. I ran almost to the point of exhaustion, but the 'flight reaction' was still strong, so I managed to battle on, onto the cliff path from the dock gates and up towards the coastguard cottages, the last structures before the summit of the cliffs proper. Just before reaching the cottages, one of the my 'secret' footpaths diverged inland, and I knew the prospect of anyone finding me in the long grass there was slim. I simply collapsed, my chest heaving with exertion. When the physical effects of my headlong escape from my Dad began to abate, the emotion pain reasserted itself, and I began to cry once more. What on earth could I do, in the knowledge that my darling Vic would never again be in my arms. At length, the distress I was feeling completely drained me, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

****

"What did you do, in the end? Vic asked me sympathetically.

"What could I do? I was 11, I had no money, no food, not even access to any water, I had to go back home. Running away wasn't an viable option, and the thought of suicide never even entered my head. I was at home before teatime. Mum started ranting as soon as I set foot in the house, but Dad told her to leave me be. Liz was typically awful, called me a crybaby - projection, much? - made snide remarks about me, you, both of us jointly, when Mum and Dad were out of earshot, and generally trying to rile me enough to get a reaction so she could go grizzling to whichever parent was nearest. What she was too dumb to realise was that I was too depressed to bite - not clinically depressed, obviously, but just too miserable to respond."

"It was similar for me, in many respects - when Mum and Dad were finished with talking about their adventures, and telling Jennifer and I what was in store for us, I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room - there was a sturdy bolt on the inside of the door, so I was luckier than you - and cried and cried. I was completely unused to crying, so I didn't even know how to stop, or how long it would last, but it must've been an hour before I started to settle down a bit. Mum and Dad had come to the door a few times, separately then together, but all I did was to tell them to go away and leave me alone. Jennifer tried too, at bedtime, but I wasn't ready to talk to anyone initially, the only time I left my room was to go to the toilet and have a drink of water from the sink. By the following morning, I was hungry and thirsty, so like you said, it was a forced move to engage with my parents. Dad had already gone to work, but from the off, Mum was trying to persuade me that everything was going to be wonderful once we moved. I wasn't remotely interested in what she was selling, so she gave it a rest for a while. After breakfast, though, it was Jennifer who more or less frogmarched me into her bedroom and locked the door. Jennifer and I had always been good friends, even though we were never mega-close like you and I were, the age gap between us and the fact that our personalities and interests were so different saw to that. But on that Tuesday, we talked for hours, about the move - she had accepted that it was inevitable, far more quickly than I had, even though she was almost as unhappy about it as I was - and what it would mean for us. Looking at it dispassionately, she was in a considerably worse position than me - she was just about to start her O-Level year, whereas I was going to a new school regardless - but on the other hand, she didn't have anyone special in her life, she had some good friends, especially Melanie, the girl she lived with while Mum and Dad were away, but no-one that she would miss to distraction, we'd only been living in Dorset for two years, after all. But I think she realised that there was a reason that I was so upset the previous evening, and that reason was you."

"Did she know, or work out, about our relationship?"

"Not about the sex stuff, there was an an element of her thinking that we were just 'little kids', but I reckon there was more than an inkling that she knew that we were more than 'best friends' by that stage. There was a temptation to tell her about everything, and I think she would've accepted the situation without going ballistic and running straight to Mum and Dad, but the consequences if I'd been wrong were too daunting for me. So, anyway, Jennifer and I supported each other that day, and the weeks thereafter, and, albeit reluctantly, I knew going to Tasmania was a fait accompli, more or less."

"I accepted it eventually, but it took me months rather than weeks. When I found that I wasn't going see you before you left, I channelled my 'inner Liz' for ages, at least a fortnight, moaning, begging, pleading, the whole nine yards. to try to get the respective parents to relent, but in hindsight, it was never going to happen - the school term had started, and we certainly couldn't afford the cost of even a weekend away, let alone more. Then I got ill, the week you were due to leave, I ended up with a septic blister in my palm of my hand, from a splinter from metalwork at school, they reckoned, I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep, hardly able to eat or drink, and dosed up with all sorts of antibiotics and painkillers to the degree that I wouldn't have been to go anywhere in any case. And then you were gone, and the rest is history."

"But I'm back now, footloose and fancy-free. And with UK nationality, in case you're wondering, I've always had dual passports."

"Are you thinking of coming back here, then?"

Vic smiled in an enigmatic, Mona Lisa fashion. "The world is my oyster, sweet Jack. Who knows what might happen!" We'd been talking for the whole of the afternoon, and all of the wine had been drunk. "Shall we go back to the pub for a meal, my shout. You paid for the wine," she said.

"Whatever suits you. I can cook, if you like, but I haven't been shopping in the last few days, so most of what I've got left is in the freezer. And, of course, I've no idea what you usually eat these days, although I'm used to being adaptable, Kim is predominately vegetarian, although she eats fish sometimes. I'm still a unreconstructed carnivore, I'm afraid, but there's quite a bit less red meat in my diet in recent times."

"Oh, I still enjoy meat regularly, but in moderation, most of the time. Not many mixed grills in my life!"

We went across the road, for the second time of the day, and the evening 'session' was thoroughly enjoyable. After the afternoon wine, and a pair of beers apiece, we were in a relaxed frame of mind, shall we say. The pub manager, who was one of the few people I'd spoken to with any regularity since moving to the town, commented on my companion genially.

"New friend?"

"No, a very, very old friend, but one I haven't seen since forever. Vic is my cousin, but she moved to Australia with her family when we were both 11. We've reconnected through my niece, who you've seen here a few times." I smiled. "It's a been a very good day!"

"Bonzer, as Aussies supposedly say! Same again?"

That round of drinks proved to be the last of the evening, Vic and I were flagging, rather, by that time. Not drunk, but certainly not sober, either.

"At the risk of using a terrible, old, tired cliché, fancy some coffee upstairs?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Vic said playfully.

That exchange made me beam in happiness. The whole day had been so unexpected, so lovely, but that little one-liner was pure 110% Vic, completely characteristic of the long-lost best friend I'd loved for so many years. Within a few minutes, I was closing and locking my front door. As I turned back into the flat, Vic was grinning fit to bust.

"Forget the coffee, kiss me right now, Jack Porter, I've waited far too long for this moment!"

There was no hesitation, on either of our parts. Our lips melted together, for long, delicious moments. It was though the fifty and more years of separation had never happened, the love and desire in our hearts was as fresh and new as ever. We drew back a fraction, just enough to allow our starry eyes to focus on each other. 

"Oh Vic, I still love you just as much as ever! Please don't tell me this has all been a wonderful dream, because it's almost too good to believe!"

"It's really true, boyfriend!" She kissed me again, just to prove the point. "And no suspicious parent or prying, jealous younger sister to disturb us, either!"

I laughed. "You're right, no need to sneak around these days, we're all grown up now!" I looked at my ample waistline, sheepishly. "Far too grown up, in my case!"

"I couldn't care less! You were always lovely and cuddly, and now, there's even more cuddliness to enjoy! And I'm no supermodel myself!"

"You are to me, my darling Vic! You look ten, fifteen years younger than me, you're simply gorgeous!" 

"You're just biased! I did look after myself reasonably well while I was working, I'll admit, but it's pretty difficult not to do that when you're a PE teacher by profession! But the most important thing is what's inside an individual, not the superficial 'good looks' part, and as far as I'm concerned, you win hands down with pretty much anyone I've ever known in that particular race. Tess was wonderful, and I loved her dearly, but she was never the number one in my heart."

I sighed, deeply. "I'm grateful that you think so highly of me, but before we get too carried away, I want to be completely honest with you. I'm old, fat and in poor health, I struggle to speak, and sometimes write, fluently because of the aphasia my stroke caused, but even before the medical stuff cropped up, I've always been thoroughly misanthropic, I don't like many people, and most people don't like me. And most of all, the elephant in the room is my sexuality. I'm bisexual, in a way, but I've never been attracted to men, ever. I'm a boylover, Vic, for the most part, a hebephile, rather than a paedophile - there's a significant different between the two, even if 99% and more of people would just call me a 'paedo', the 'tabloid' parlance is completely ingrained in 'society' - but that is who I am, even if I've never acted on my attractions." I was ready to expound further, but Vic put a finger against my lips.

"Ssshhh, you! No self-pity allowed here!"  She smiled briefly, before looking at me in a much more serious way. "One question, though, and I want an honest answer. Have you hurt anyone, because of your sexuality?"

"Not physically, I've never molested anyone, in that sense. But there was one boy...." It was difficult to carry on.

"Tell me about him, Jack," she said gently, but insistently.

"I upset him, badly, Vic. Emotional injuries can be just bad as physical ones, I'm sure you know that. He was - is - a relative on Dad's side of the family, my much older female cousin's son. We didn't see Dad's sister, Aunty Diane, and her family much when we were growing up, partly because they lived in Manchester, but mainly because there'd been a massive bust-up between my Mum and Pauline, the cousin, when we about 6 or 7, not that I was aware of that at the time. I healed the rift, more or less single-handed, in the summer when we were 13, by writing to Aunty Diane and asking to stay at their place for a week in the holidays. We had a bit more money by then, Mum had just gone back to work full-time, and the various adults were happy for that to happen. Neil, Pauline's son, was only a toddler then, about eighteen months old, so he didn't know who I was, of course, but after that I did visit at least once most years, and when he got older, we became pretty good friends, in a 'big bro/little bro' way. He turned out to be an only child, Pauline was uncomfortably similar to Liz, she was another selfish, spoiled 'daddy's girl', she could do no wrong with Uncle Wes, Diane's husband. Neil's dad was pretty fed up with her by then, he spent most of his time working in the North Sea oil rigs to keep out of her way, drinking himself into a stupor on his brief trips at home, so I ended up being Neil's male 'role model', especially when I moved to Crewe and I was relatively 'local'. He was 11, nearly 12 by then, just moving into the 'sweet spot' in terms of my attractions, and I fell in love with him, hook, line and sinker. It was agonising for me, a really 'forbidden fruit' situation, on top of the 'acceptable' element of our relationship, he was telling everyone that I was his best friend, and I felt pretty much the same about him, but with the huge complication that I wanted to take him to bed, in the worst way. If he'd been gay or bi himself, maybe we could've squared the circle, but he was 100% straight, so it was never going to work. It carried on for another two years and more, being 'best mates' while I was hiding my real feelings, but it all blew up in my face one Saturday night a week before his fourteenth birthday. There was a party for one of their neighbours' 50th, and I was invited. It was late, maybe 11:00, and there had been plenty of drinks consumed, so when it was getting becoming obvious that Neil was very interested in one of the local girls, I got horribly jealous and clingy. The girl wasn't impressed, and left, making Neil incandescent with anger with me. We'd never had a significant argument, ever, but that was the exception that proved the rule. I went into the garden, Neil followed me, and wanted to know what wrong with me. 'Are you a queer, or something?' were his exact words, making me burst into tears. He went apeshit, shouting and swearing, telling me that I 'd never cared about him, I was just trying to 'groom' him for sex, and told me to fuck off and never come back. It wasn't long before several other people had appeared in the garden as well, including the host of the party who summarily chucked me out. It could've been worse, there were mutterings along the lines of 'let's kill the paedo!' as I was leaving, but what they didn't know was that I knew the area at least as well as the locals, and I went in a completely different direction than that they would've expected. I found a night bus and headed to the city centre, waited for the first train and eventually got back home around breakfast time. The prospect of being beaten up, or worse, didn't bother me, though, because I was utterly devastated about losing my best mate, as well as the last faint hope that somehow we could be more than friends. I tried to ring to Neil in the afternoon, but there was no answer the first time I tried, Neil answered the second time, but immediately hung up, and third time, in the evening, Pauline answered, ranting and raving at me from the first sentence, so I hung up on her. I was at on the lowest ebb of my whole life, even including the day when I found out that you were going away. It was the only time that I was even remotely close to contemplating suicide, but even then, I wasn't at that pitch."

"Sounds to me that both of you overreacted," Vic remarked.

"Possibly, but I would never blame Neil for what happened. I was the adult, at least nominally, he was 13, he'd just lost his grandad, Uncle Wes, who he was close to, a few months before, his dad was a complete alcoholic by that time, and on top of that, he found out his best friend was a boylover who was heavily attracted to him. That's far too much for a guy of that age and maturity to cope with." 

Vic's face was completely unreadable for long seconds, and I feared the worst. But then, like a sunrise, she smiled tenderly. "So the feelings you had for Neil came from love, rather than potential abuse?"

"I'd like to think so. But if you think I'm too far beyond the pale, I wouldn't be surprised, let alone offended, if you were to say, nope, that's too much, and decide to leave."

"Come here, you goof!" She hugged me tightly. "I love you, too, didn't I just say you're the number one in my life?! You're the kindest, most caring and easily the cleverest person I've ever known. And now I've found you, after all these years, the last thing I want to do is to lose you all over again. I want to live with you forever, if you'll have me, whether it's right here, or anywhere else that suits you. Say you will, Jack, please!"

I was elated almost beyond words "In a heartbeat, darling! What ever you want, that I can give you, it's yours, unreservedly."

"Anything?" I grinned and nodded. "OK, what I want is to go to bed with you. We don't have to have sex, either now, or in the future, if your health won't allow it, but to just share the night together would be a dream come true."

"That's the same for me, too. We've never slept together, even when we were very little, as far as I can remember. The only snag, though, is that I can't even offer you a spare toothbrush, I wasn't expecting company!"

Vic sniggered. "That's alright, I'll use yours! We'll have to get used to swapping our germs, anyway!"

****

The first days together in our flat - it was so thrilling for me to use the phrase 'our flat' rather than 'my flat'! - were nothing less than idyllic. It might have been mid-February on the west coast of Scotland, but our honeymoon - and I use that word advisedly - couldn't have been more perfect if we'd been whisked away to a five-star hotel in the Maldives. Even the weather was reasonably amenable - it was cool and predominately grey, but there had been little in the way of rain, and no snow or frost at all - so we were able to wander around the town and seafront without getting significantly wet or chilled. Vic had checked out of her hotel without delay - she'd been due to stay for a week, but her plans were completely different now. Our local supermarket was of a good size, so most of her immediate needs were readily available, but finding extra clothing suitable for the Scottish climate was slightly more problematic. Glasgow was the nearest big city, but I hated the place and avoided it like the plague, unless I had no choice, but there was a big 'out-of-town' shopping centre, with a door-to-door half-hourly bus service, three-quarters of the way between the two settlements, so we had our first bus ride together since our childhood. Much of the route followed the coast, or the adjoining estuary as we got closer to the urban area, so there was plenty to see, but the most special aspect of the trip was to relive that unforgettable day of bus riding in the summer sun in Kent, so many years before. Vic found the outdoor gear she wanted without difficulty, as well as a few miscellaneous bits and bobs that took her fancy. While she was browsing, a different kind of emporium caught my eye, so I excused myself for a few minutes. Vic certainly wasn't the out-and-out tomboy she'd been at 11, but neither was she ultrafeminine. So my idea was to find some jewellery that would be appropriate for both of us, and the display of neck chains I'd seen seemed to fit the bill. There were a lot of options, but a matching pair of white gold chains looked attractive and distinctive, so I bought them. They weren't cheap, but they weren't ruinously expensive, either, the only other concern for me was whether Vic would like them. My girl had moved on, but I found her readily enough, in a bookshop. I kissed her cheek.

"Found anything interesting?" I asked her.

"Not really, I'm nearly shopped out, to be honest."

"Fancy a coffee somewhere?"

"That sounds appealing!"

There was a food court nearby, and it wasn't long before we were settling comfortably into a corner table. We sipped our drinks for a minute or two, before I looked into Vic's eyes.

"I....I've got something for you. I hope....you'll like it." I was feeling like the stereotypical 'teenager on their first date'. "They're supposed to be a matching pair, have a look at both, choose which you prefer, and I'll have the other one."

Vic peered into the jewellers' bag, and took out its contents. She opened one of the cases, and gasped.

"Oh Jack, that's beautiful! It's not silver, though, is it?"

"White gold, sweet. They were out of the ordinary, I really liked them, and I hoped you would too."

"I don't like it, I love it! Put it on for me, please, and I'll do the same for you." I willingly did her bidding, before stooping to allow her to fasten the clasp on my chain. "There! Always together, together forever! I hope so, at least!"

"As long until I die, as long as that's what you want, too."

"Never a doubt! I know it'll take us a while, with the bus, and all, but take me home now, Jack, I want to make love to you, as soon as we can!"

"Your wish is my command!"

****

As we moved into the last few days of February, our new, joint lifestyle began to bed down. I was a very early riser, almost always, 7:00 was a major lie-in for me. Not that Vic was a 'lie-abed', but she usually woke between 7:30 and 8:00 most days. As was the case that particular day, Vic came into the lounge, coffee mug in hand, just before 8:00. She looked out of the window, with mild distaste.

"Ugh, the weather doesn't look very promising!" It was obviously wet outside, not raining torrentially, but grey and miserable, 'dreich', as the locals would've said. She glanced at the TV, which was showing adverts at that moment. "Anything good coming up?"

"There's some footy on in a few minutes, a bit of a surprise, that's the first time TNT Sports have ever shown a pre-season match, as far as I know."

"Who's playing?"

"The Tigers against the Filth." To translate a little, 'footy' was shorthand for Aussie Rules for me, and been for years before I reconnected with Vic, whereas 'football' was the association version, a.k.a. soccer to some people, 'The Tigers' were Richmond, a powerhouse team for the last decade, but now struggling badly, while 'the Filth' was the thoroughly unaffectionate nickname for Collingwood, almost everyone's least favourite club, apart from their own supporters, of course!

"That'll be a bit of a walkover, I suspect, Richmond are pretty ordinary at the moment. Still, better to have footy around rather than not."

"My sentiments exactly! The game starts at ten past, I think I'll grab a bowl of cereal before the bounce, do you want anything to eat?"

"Nah, not at the moment, this coffee will do for now, thanks."

We watched the game with interest, Vic was easily as au fait with the sport as I was, which was a real treat for me, most people in the UK, even sports aficionados, barely knew anything about Aussie Rules, and cared less. We had discussed footy a little, in those early days together, but not in any great detail, there were other priorities in our conversations, but it occurred to me that I didn't know which team, if any, Vic preferred.

"Have you got a team who you barrack for, sweet?" 

"I didn't have one for a long time, because there was never a Tassie option, I watched whichever games were on TV. But that changed about twenty years or so ago, when the AFL started to play games on the island, mostly in Launceston, which was just over an hour away in the car for us, so I got into one of the 'pseudo-local' teams, who were pretty good at the time. So, I've been a proud member of  - *drumroll* - the famous St. Kilda Football Club for the last 21 years!" The mischievous smirk on her face was priceless!

"You rotten tease! You could've told me!"

"What would've been the fun in that?! You would've found out pretty soon anyway, Round 1 isn't far away, and I wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face once our boys were playing!"

I wrapped her up in the warmest of hugs. "I already thought that you're perfect, but you keep finding ways to be even better!"

"Get away with you! I'm certainly not perfect, any more than you are. But you're very good, as far as I'm concerned, and I try to be the best I can for you." The game finished by mid-morning, in the one-sided fashion had Vic had predicted. "It looks like the weather's set in for the day. I'm curious, on days like this, what would you have been doing, say three weeks ago, before I lobbed a grenade into your lifestyle."

"Not a grenade, more like a piñata, full of lovely things!" Vic rolled her eyes, albeit fondly. "Anyway, to answer your question, I probably would've been a complete couch potato! Watching sport or documentaries on TV, laptop at the ready to play games or idly browsing the Net, reading the various online stories I've been following, that sort of thing. Once upon a time, I might've written in my blog - well, blogs, really, I had a journal blog initially, then later on, a fiction blog as well - but the aphasia pretty much put paid to my very modest literary ambitions. I did try, several times, to get back into writing, but it kept not happening, it was painful, physically painful, it gave me nasty headaches if I persisted for more than a few minutes at time, and it was psychologically painful as well, because of the frustration of something I had been reasonably good at, but now was unable to do any longer. I had a daydream of publishing a novel, once I'd retired from the railway, but it wasn't to be."

"That's sad, Jack, is it still impossible for you? Your speech isn't too bad, compared to with what you've told me it was like immediately after your stroke. I know you stumble over your words occasionally, and stutter a bit sometimes, but it's not to the degree that most people would call a disability. Have you tried to write recently?"

"Not really, it became too disheartening after a while."

"Have you still got your blogs?" I nodded slightly. "Could I read them sometime, please?"

"Of course, they're on the public internet, anyone can read them, if they feel like it. Bear in mind, though, the stories, if not the journal posts, have got a strong 'flavour' of boylove, and a little smattering of girllove, here and there, too. There was an element of vicariousness there, making my characters do and say things that I wasn't allowed to in 'real life', but, to be fair to myself, none of the stories are at all extreme, there's absolutely no rape, almost nothing non-consensual of any kind, very little violence, overall they're far more romance-based rather than being 'sex for sex's sake' stuff. But there is explicit sex in many of them, I can't deny that, and they involve young people between themselves, and with adults, so the caveat emptor principle applies."

"Don't worry, I'm a big girl, and if there's something that I think is too much for my tastes, there's always the 'off-switch', I can easily find something different."

The next few hours, after Vic had fired up her own laptop, and I'd given her the relevant web addresses, were predominantly quiet. Vic had donned her headphones, listening to music as 'background' while she was reading, so I watched some winter sport on the TV, made us a toasted sandwich apiece for lunch, and generally basked in the enjoyable domestication of the day. At length, Vic switched her computer and 'phones off, moved close to me, and kissed me gently.

"Well, that was an experience! Jack Porter, you've got hidden talents, in spades! Even the 'gooey' stories were nicely written, even if the subject matter wasn't ordinarily what I'd choose to read. Some of your characters are amazing, Xander is particularly delightful! Is he based on a real boy?"

"Only in a physical sense. I had a phase of going on package holidays in the nineties, mostly to the Canary Islands, but one or two places in the Med, as well, including one trip to mainland Greece, where I tripped over one of the most beautiful boys I'd ever seen, in the hotel pool. I didn't speak to him, at all, he was Scandinavian, no idea which country he was from exactly, my language skills weren't good enough to work it out, but I was absolutely smitten. I only saw him three or four times in the week I was there, I certainly didn't stalk him, or anything like that, but he made an indelible impression on me. One of the days, he changed from his swimmers to shorts and tee shirt, right there at the poolside, directly opposite where I was sunbathing, so I saw him completely nude for thirty seconds or so. Utterly breathtaking, and no mistake! The whole story, my magnum opus to date, began with the encounter with that boy at the pool. I made him an English character, and although it was only supposed be a short story, but I sort-of fell in love with him, and couldn't stop writing about him. 63000 words, and change, later, that was the chronicle that became Alexandrine." 

"I've certainly learned some things about you today, although some of them I knew or suspected already - you're an awesome writer, you're an incurable romantic, you can't bear to hurt anyone you care about, you adore boys, and, luckily for me, at least one girl!"

I grinned sheepishly. "We've always been on the same wavelength, haven't we, sweet! But one slight amendment - I was an OK writer, but nowadays, I'm not a writer at all, unfortunately."

Vic looked at me, thoughtfully. "Maybe there's a way to help you in that regard. What's that word for a person who is a writer's or artist's assistant?"

"Amanuensis?"

"That's the one! You could have the ideas, the plotlines, characters, and that sort of thing, while I do the secretarial stuff. Feasible, do you think?"

I was taken aback, more than a little. But after some seconds reflection, I smiled with pleasure. "If you're happy to have a go, yeah, it could be more than workable. I'd rather call you a collaborator, a co-writer, though, rather than an amanuensis, my take on that is it's a bit of a menial position. A 50/50 partnership would be a lot more palatable for me, especially if the partner would be you!"

On that drab and drizzly Wednesday afternoon, a whole new chapter, literally, of our life began!

****

"The last year and a half has been....eventful for you two, hasn't it?" Jennifer remarked. Vic and I were in the lounge of our sister's and cousin's, respectively, renovated farmhouse in rural Somerset. Vic laughed out loud.

"That's a considerable understatement! A wild, chaotic rollercoaster ride, more like!" Vic's Australian accent had faded considerably in the intervening time, reverting to something more like the one I remembered when we children, with, of course, an adult timbre. "Plenty of highs, but far too much drama, some of the time."

****

The co-writing project began almost immediately. I already had numerous drafts in my fiction blog's 'virtual pigeonhole', but, as I'd told Vic, many of them were 'variations on a theme' involving boys in sexual situations with other boys, with girls or with adults. The first priority was to try and distil the existing stuff, keeping promising characters, plots and scenarios while discarding the 'chaff'. Vic proved adept at that process - although she'd been mainly a PE specialist, she also taught geography at high school level, and had been used to assess the worth of her pupil's written work, even if she hadn't been involved with 'creative writing' since she was a student herself. Within a week or so, we'd ended up with a series of vignettes, word sketches, orphaned paragraphs and down to individual words that one or the other of us happened to like. Rather like a literary 'Lego set', ready to be assembled into a virtuous whole. That was the theory, at least, but what was lacking was a overarching structure - the basic, unembellished story, in short. Fortunately, the 'starter motor' wasn't long in coming.

"You're pretty good at getting into the mindset of tween and early teen boys, Jack," Vic was saying, "considering that you haven't been in contact with any guys of that age forever and a day."

"Well, I was one, back in the dim and distant past! I don't think boys have changed that drastically in the last fifty years, most of them are interested in sport, cars, mischief, and in the case of the slightly older ones, girls - or occasionally other boys - and, if they can get it, sex. They're uncomplicated creatures, really."

"You're right, the boys I knew back in the day, and the more recent models when I was teaching, were pretty easy to deal with. The females, not so much, although when I was a teen, and definitely when I was a tween, I wouldn't give girls the time of the day, so I had to learn how to relate to them as an outsider, in a way."

"That's a bit harsh about yourself, sweet, you were always positive and friendly, as I remember it. I was the one who struggled to deal with other people. I guess I was rather shy naturally, but it didn't help that I was a bit of a freak, being the only 'fat kid' and the 'clever kid' at primary school, I got teased all ends up. At least I didn't get bullied physically, I was always the tallest as well being the fattest, so I always had an intimidation factor in my favour!"

"As intimidating as the average teddy bear!" Vic sniggered. 

"Thanks, I can be hurt, you know!"

She kissed my cheek gently. "I'm joking, you goof!" She sighed slightly. "I always enjoy reminiscing about our childhood. It was a really nice part of my life, until it was rudely ripped away, after that special summer."

Lightbulbs popped in my head. "How about this? We've been looking for a story theme, what about writing about our lives in that era? Not the X-rated stuff, but all the other fun things we got up to back then. And then have a 2020s pair of cousins to compare and contrast with, how their lives could be different, or similar, to ours."

"That's a brilliant idea! My very own genius, at work! Maybe Bradley and Sophie could be roped in as 'creative consultants', tell us what 'the youth of today' thinks about the world!"

"And dialogue coaches for us crumblies, as well! If we use fifty year old slang in the 'modern' element of our story, they'd just laugh at us!"

****

"Jack, there's a major problem with the TV adaptation. It could be a complete show-stopper." Vic was in London, at the office of our literary agent. We'd had a call the previous day from her, and urgency in her voice was clear. 'It's vital for one or, preferably both of you come to town,' she'd said, 'it's not something that can be discussed on the phone or by e-mail.' 

Our debut novel, amazingly to us, had gone viral. We were planning to simply publish it on my blog, but after having read an e-mail 'preview', Kim suggested to us that it was good enough to be more widely distributed. My niece had some experience of 'semi-professional' publishing, she'd graduated as a graphic artist, freelancing in the field, although her 'day job' was as a senior university CAD technical manager, so we were more than happy to follow her advice. Plan B was to use a self-publishing service, not free, but reasonably inexpensive, with Kim joining us as a third collaborator, helping us with graphics, design and illustrations, and as a photo researcher/archivist, to give our unadorned words a digital makeover. She was also an accomplished social media practitioner - Vic was reasonably au fait with the genre, but no expert, while I was a no-hoper, my blogs, largely moribund since my stroke, were the only presence I had in the 'cyberspace ocean' - using her skills and experience to raise our profile exponentially. All of that, though, would have been mere window-dressing, but for the fact that the story was such a strong one. Cousinhood, our preferred title - in the end, the appellation was an unanimous choice, Bradley, Sophie and their parents and grandparents, along with Kim, approving - was launched less than six months from its first keystroke. The tale, of two cousins and best friends, boy and girl, living and growing up in two adjacent villages on the south coast of Cornwall in the 1960s and 1970s, and their distantly related counterparts in the 2020s, with similar family ties and the same close friendship, but living inland, on the edge of Bodmin Moor, seemed to strike a chord with not only the tween and early teen demographic we were aiming for, but also their parents, and in some cases, grandparents. It was a sentimental, but hopefully not mawkish, evocation of childhood and early adolescence, full of happiness and fun, for the most part, but with occasional solemn, and even outrightly sad, moments - and lots of 'Cornish sunshine', i.e. plenty of rain, anyone who isn't familiar with the Duchy and visits expecting wall-to-wall good weather would be sadly disillusioned! 

So, up to that point, everything connected to our writing and gone swimmingly, the online version of the story was selling like hot cakes, and the initial, modest run of the first print edition had sold out, schools and children's libraries being early adopters. And when the TV rights sparked a bidding war, there was astonishment and delight in equal measures. Until the previous afternoon's phone call. My health had been problematic in the previous month, overwork, almost certainly, the GP had said meaningfully, adding the statistic, which I was aware of in any case, that stroke patients had a 30% to 40% chance of another attack within ten years, and that second attacks were almost worse than the first. Thus chastened, I'd been pacing myself carefully, while Vic was looking after me, and particularly my physical well-being, most solicitously. She was adamant that I wasn't well enough to go to London at barely twelve hours notice, so the result was my waving her off in a taxi, at 'stupid o'clock', en route to Glasgow Airport, thence, ultimately, to Central London. She'd rung me to confirm that she was at the agent's office before lunchtime, promising me an update as soon as she could, which was now forthcoming.

"What's gone awry, sweet? It all seemed to be going to plan."

Vic's voice, very unusually, was wavering uncertainly. "There have been....some allegations. Some about both of us, but mostly about you. The agent said it's nothing but social media tittle-tattle, but the TV production company are getting very cold feet, because....the word 'paedophile' has been bandied about. And 'incest', into the bargain."

"Any idea who's behind it?"

"Not in the slightest. No-one's said anything to either of us."

"Have you spoken to Kim about this stuff yet?"

"No, she doesn't seem to be involved, even incidentally, the rumours don't mention her."

"Well, that's good, of course, but what I meant was, she's our social media expert. Maybe she can do some digging, and see if there's anyone obvious who wants to harm our reputations, such as they are." I glanced at the wall clock in the lounge. "She usually finishes work around 4:30, I believe, I'll get in touch with her, assuming she's free, and have a chat. Have you sorted out your flight back yet?"

"Yeah, I've got a seat on the 7:00 shuttle, and I've provisionally booked a cab back home, the taxi company are happy to be flexible if necessary, so all being well, I should be home by 10:00, 10:30."

"Ideal! I'll let you know what Kim says, safe trip, sweet, see you later."

I texted Kim at 4:30, the message was couched in terms of being important, but not as an emergency - I didn't want her life, either professionally or personally, being uprooted in an instant - but it wasn't long before my phone rang.

"Hi Jack. Problems?"

"You could say that. It looks like there's someone with an agenda." I explained what we knew so far, little as it was.

"Give me an hour or so, Jack, I'll do a bit of sleuthing." There was a longish pause. "I've got a....likely suspect, but I don't want to jump the gun. If I'm right, though, it could get nasty. I'll come back to you ASAP. Speak to you soon."

Ninety minutes later, Kim rang back.

"Well, it looks my gut feeling was correct, almost certainly. You're not going to like it, I'm afraid."

"Better to know rather than guess. Hit me with it."

"My mother."

"Liz?! Why? I haven't spoken to her in more than 25 years. It can't be money, surely, she got our old house and your Grandma's life savings, you and I were completely cut out of the will. It's not that she's been hard done by, as far as I can see." Kim had wanted to contest the will when Mum died, but given the relatively small estate, I convinced my niece that the only winners in that sort of fight would've been the lawyers, so she reluctantly agreed to let her mother take the spoils.

"Jealousy and loathing, in a nutshell. She absolutely hates you, Jack, and has done for most of her life, I can remember her ranting about you when I was very young. When you split up with Amy, she was ecstatic, my Dad told me later, and she downright lied to Grandma about what had happened during that wedding reception, she said that you'd been caught red-handed in a toilet molesting a boy there. She hates Vic almost as much, but that's more to do with jealousy, the fact that you and Vic were so close, and she was excluded from that 'club'. When she found out that Vic was back from Oz, and you two were back together, she started make all sorts of slurs, that's where the 'incest' stuff came from, she's too stupid to check her facts, that first cousins can legally marry, let alone get into a relationship short of marriage. But it got magnitudes worse when Cousinhood became successful, she's decided to try to destroy you. But because she's so dumb, and so hopeless with social media, beyond the bare minimum, it was easy to track her profiles. She'd made a new account, the one with the 'paedophile' allegations, but immediately linked it to her original account. Even a half-decent libel lawyer would take her to the cleaners!"

"Days like this, I wish I'd just posted the story on my anonymous blog, as we'd originally planned," I said despondently. "It was only supposed to be a bit of fun, to keep my old cogs moving. At least then it would've sunk without trace in the cyber ocean, with no grasping lawyers involved. Thank you for what you've found out for us, Kim, Vic should be just about ready to buckle up in the plane now, so as soon as I'll see her this evening, we can have a chat about what we can next."

"Whatever you do, Jack, don't let my mother win with her lies! She's gone too far this time, it's time for some comeuppance! I'll carry on with my research, behind the scenes, after all, it's in my own interests, given I'm in the triumvirate! I'll keep you posted if I find anything significant. Speak to you soon."

"Thanks, Kim. 'Bye for now."

Just after 9:00, Vic called me. "I'm in the taxi, Jack, traffic permitting I'll be home in 40 minutes."

"Meet me in the pub, sweet. I think you'll need a stiff drink, I know I do."

"That sounds ominous. OK, mine will be a pint, see you soon."

*We're passing the golf club, get them in, sweetie!* Vic texted me half an hour later. I was well into my first pint already, so a refill for me, as well as a drink for Vic, was called for. The pub wasn't at all busy, on a midweek evening, so I ushered my girl into a quiet corner.

"So, what did Kim discover?"

"Our would-be nemesis is my sister."

"You're bloody joking!" 

"Sadly not." I told Vic what Kim had said about her mother, the decades-old resentment Liz still harboured for us.

"She should be committed! That's just pathologic hatred!."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Mad, or bad? Does it really matter, either way? The question is what, if anything, can we do about it?"

Vic said almost exactly the same thing as Kim. "No way she gets away with this! We need to organise an injunction against her, it's just libel!"

"That's pretty much a open-and-shut case, but it would still cost us a bomb. It would definitely be a pyrrhic victory if all our royalties, and more, get swallowed up in legal fees."

Vic sipped her drink for a few seconds, before smiling broadly. 

"You've got a plan, haven't you?" I said.

"Reggie!" I looked at my girl in bemusement. "You remember, Jennifer's neighbour, the one who fancies himself as the local squire! He's a high-powered lawyer. And he specialises in libel cases, one of the best in the country!"

"So instead of hiring an expensive lawyer, we'll be hiring a mega-expensive lawyer! That doesn't strike me as being particularly beneficial, on the face of it."

"Jennifer said that if she or any of her family have any legal issues, he'll 'look after them'. Well, we're family, and, seemingly, we've got an issue. It's too late to do anything tonight, but I'll ring Jennifer in the morning, and see if we can talk to him. The worst he can say is 'no', but when I've chatted to him, he seems to be an approachable sort, even if he's a bit up himself sometimes! Anyway, I fancy another beer. Do you want another one?"

"Go on then, you've twisted my arm!"

****

"Splendid, the famous cousins in person!" 

Not quite in person, Vic and I were engaged in a video call with Sir George Reginald Barclay KC, we were in the flat, he was in his London chambers.

"We are very grateful for your time, Sir George," I said respectfully.

"Come now, no reason for stuffy formality, especially between friends. Call me, Reggie, please, Ms Broadbent knows me already - don't you, Vic -" my girl nodded, smiling, "I'd like to call you, Jack, if that's suitable for you?" 

"Of course....Reggie."

"That's the ticket! So, I believe your niece has already investigated this matter to some degree, I asked her, through Jennifer, to give me an e-mail digest of her findings so far, which she has kindly done, and what she has uncovered is compelling, from my perspective. Not quite definitive, in a legal sense, but certainly sufficient to bring a case for libel. But in this social media era, going to court is rarely necessary, if only because the potential defendant often doesn't know they've done anything wrong, so an unexpected lawyer's letter would be more than enough to....refocus their minds, if you will. In this case, however, your sister's behaviour, Jack, easily surpasses the legal test for 'actual malice', so a somewhat more robust approach may well be called for. You may be aware of the existence of 'cease and desist' letters," - I nodded in recognition - "in layman's terms, it's a 'final warning', 'don't do this again unless you want to be sued', effectively. I don't know your sister personally, of course, but in my experience, any average person would be likely to find such a letter more than a little intimidating. If she doesn't see sense, then something more might be required, but hopefully that would be an end to the matter."

"That would take a load off our minds, Reggie," Vic said, "we would be more than happy to pay for your services...."

"Nonsense, dear lady, strictly pro bono, I can assure you! Your sister is a friend and neighbour of ours, she was our equestrian vet for decades, many a time she has done things well beyond and above the call of duty for our horses, and for ourselves. If only she was still available professionally, the new fellow is more than competent, but not a patch on Jennifer! She was asked, a number of times, to be the British Olympic equestrian team's vet, but she always politely declined, all that travelling wasn't to her taste. And in addition, my daughter, Rosalind, is a massive fan of your story, if she heard that I'd been less than forthcoming with my assistance, I would never hear the last of it! 'She who must be obeyed', our Ros, in spades!"

"I'm amazed that you're such a soft touch, Reggie!" Vic laughed.

"One must recognise one's limitations! There are battles which can never be won!"

"Well, the least we can do is to dig out a signed first edition for Rosalind, if you think that would be appreciated," I said.

"She would be absolutely thrilled, I'm sure. Many of her friends would be extremely envious!"

"Thank you so much, Reggie," Vic said. "We're hoping to visit Jennifer soon, now that Spring is finally upon us, I hope we can catch up with each other in Somerset before too long."

"I'm sure we can work something out. Unfortunately, I'll need to cut this short for now, duty calls. I'll get the requisite letter organised, hopefully this afternoon, if not, certainly by tomorrow. Would it be useful for me to write to your literary agent, as well?"

"You're too kind, Reggie, thank you very much indeed."

"You're more than welcome. I'll contact you both very soon. Goodbye, for now."

****

"Reggie certainly came up trumps, didn't he?" Jennifer observed. "He is a bit of an acquired taste, but his heart is in the right place, most of the time."

"Absolutely! Kim checked out Liz's social media profiles a couple of days after Reggie sent his letter, and everything had been deleted. We haven't heard a peep from my delightful sister, either directly or indirectly, since then."

"Good riddance, I say!" Vic chuckled.

"The downside is that Kim hasn't heard a word from her mother either, which is a little bit sad, although their relationship has been strained ever since Kim was in her early teens," I said.

"I doubt Kim will be grieving, Jack," Vic told me, "she's in love, head over heels!"

My niece was, indeed, having a wonderful time with her relatively new partner, Chantelle, a very intelligent and almost equally attractive thirty-something Dutchwoman who Kim had met at a CAD conference a few months earlier.

"Something for Liz to fulminate about, no doubt, because amongst her many faults, she's very homophobic. The worst of human nature, all rolled into one maladorous package!"

"So, what's on the Cousinhood agenda next?" Jennifer asked.

"There's a launch event for the TV version, in about a month. It was supposed to be have been during the school Easter holidays, but Liz's intervention meant that all the timescales slipped, it's now going to be screened at the late May half-term instead." Vic explained.

"Are both of you going to be there?"

"Reluctantly, but that's pending Jack's health, and the production company are well aware of the caveat. Jack's booked an appointment with our GP a fortnight before the event, the doctor will have the power of veto, if he's not happy. Kim and Chantelle will be there, I think Bradley and Sophie will be OK to go, I've spoken to Rob - you were busy when I rang - and their parents seem to be up for a day or two in London, and Ros and a couple of her friends are going, too. We've got a standing invitation to stay at Reggie's pied-à-terre, as he calls it - it's a palatial five-bedroom place in Belsize Park, on the edge of Hampstead, some pied-à-terre! - so we could easily go, in terms of logistics, but, as I say, health is the priority. Speaking of the terrible two, I thought they were going to be here by now."

Jennifer laughed. "You know your brother-in-law, always being hung up by his tongue! They'll be here soon, I expect."

Ten minutes later, the front door burst open, accompanied by the sound of running feet in the hallway. Two grinning faces, so alike, albeit with two or three inches between their heights, bounded into the lounge.

"Hi Gran!" Jennifer was greeted with a brief, but heartfelt hug. "Hi Vic and Jack!" Bradley enthused. "We haven't seen you for ages!" The boy gave me a robust fist bump, a gesture matched by his cousin seconds later.

"Jack hasn't been feeling too great recently, the doctor told him to take it easy for a while," Vic told the youngsters. Sophie frowned in obvious sympathy and worry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," the girl said anxiously.

"Don't worry," I replied, "it wasn't anything too sinister, just me overreaching my strength a bit! And I'm back to usual now, more or less, and pleased to see you and Bradley."

"We're going to London to see the....preview, is that the right word?" I nodded, "of the TV stuff about the story,"  the girl said. "Bradley has been to London before, but I haven't. Is it always really busy, all the time?"

"It can be busy, at different times and places, but there are plenty of quiet spots as well. I reckon people who don't know London very well think it's just one huge amorphous mass, but in reality, it's lots of individual towns and villages which have been joined together over the years. Take Paddington, where you'll arrive on the train, for example. Most people just think of it as a major railway station, but Paddington was originally, two hundred years ago, a small village, two or three miles away from the city centre, well known for farms that grew vegetables, and that sort of thing. Hammersmith, where I lived in the 1980s, is the same, in medieval times, it was a fishing village by the Thames."

"That's interesting, I didn't know about that stuff. Did you like living there?"

"Mostly, there are masses of things to do, but it can be quite a lonely place - I know that might sound mad, with all the literally millions of people around, but many people who move into London, for work, or whatever, don't know anyone locally. I was like that, I knew my colleagues at work, but we didn't socialise very much, so I just went back to my very small flat, cooked myself some dinner, watched TV and went to sleep, most days. I was pretty lucky, though, because my home town was pretty close by, it only took an hour and a half by train to go back, I still had plenty of friends living in the area, so most of my social life was in East Kent. And the other snag about London is that it's really expensive to live there, especially for accommodation. But overall, I'm pleased I've had the experience of being a 'Londoner'."

Sophie was ready for a drink and a snack by then, as did her cousin. Bradley had been quietly, and seemingly seriously, talking to Jennifer and Vic while the girl and I were chatting. Rob had been listening to the conversation as well, although he didn't say much, unusually for him. He excused himself to go to the kitchen to supervise the young people's elevenses, leaving me in the company of the sisters. Vic beckoned me over.

"We would like to ask a favour from you, Jack. If you say 'no' to our proposition, sobeit, neither of us will be in the least offended, or even disappointed. The choice is yours, 100%."

"OK, so what's the question?"

"Bradley's parents, and grandparents, for that matter, are fairly convinced that the boy is gay. He himself has said so, he's quite happy to have girls as friends, best friend in the case of him and Sophie, but he's he's told them that he 'only likes boys in a sexy way, not girls', in his words. All of the adults in his immediate family are supportive, but none of them have any experience of dealing with a gay tween, or even how to answer any questions on the subject beyond basic general knowledge. You're the only predominately gay man in his life, Jack, so what we would like you to do, is to talk to him, find out what he knows and what he doesn't, give him proper information about sexual health, mental health, and society's expectations - and prejudices - from a gay perspective. Do you think you could help us, and more importantly, help Bradley?"

I sighed, closing my eyes for long seconds. Vic, of course, was completely au fait with my sexuality and its implications, but I had little idea about what Jennifer knew, or even suspected. The silence became oppressive. I had to make a decision. I glanced at Vic for a moment, heartened by the tiny air kiss she threw in my direction. I looked at Jennifer, eye to eye.

"I'll gladly help Bradley, as long what I'm going to say doesn't cause a rift with anyone. You know I lean heavily towards the gay side of the continuum, but I'm....not attracted to men." I paused, to let my admission to sink into Jennifer's mind. "I've never done anything illegal, with anyone, but my preference is for....those below the age of consent, for the most part."

My older cousin's face was impassive for long moments, before she smiled, very slightly.

"I know, Jack. Vic told me the first time you were due to come here. And she told me, in no uncertain terms, that you are completely trustworthy in this context. And I believe her, you're a good person, I've known that since you were a child yourself. But if I had any doubts, you still would have been welcomed here, as my sister's partner, but you would've never seen my grandchildren. Ever."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Jennifer, for having faith in me. You won't regret your decision, I can assure you." The young cousins, along with their grandfather, were approaching from the hallway. "When do you want me to talk to Bradley?"

"No time like the present!" Vic grinned. "I'll take Sophie for a walk, she likes it around here, and the weather doesn't look too bad."

"You can stay here, Jack, Rob and I can use the conservatory. You won't be disturbed," Jennifer said.

Bradley looked at the older women with some disquiet, as though he'd been rebuffed in some way, but Jennifer quickly set his mind at rest. "Jack's happy to have a chat with you, if that's what you'd like to do." The boy beamed, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Vic is going to look after Sophie for a while, and Grandad and I are going to read the paper in the conservatory, so your discussion will be private. Happy with that?"

"That'll be great, Gran! Thank you so much!"

"You're very welcome." Jennifer turned to me. "Lunch will be a mini-buffet in the kitchen a bit later, so if you're still in conclave by then, we'll save you some food."

"Thanks, Jennifer." I smiled at the boy, warmly, I hoped. "Ready for this, sunshine?!"

"Definitely! Thanks a lot, Jack!"

"No problem!" The lounge emptied within seconds, Vic was last to leave, kissing me briefly then closing the door, firmly. "OK, Bradley, obviously I haven't had a chance to prepare anything, in terms of bullet points or viewfoils." The boy laughed out loud. "So, to save us wasting too much time in stuff you already know, could you give me a little precis about what sex education you've had so far, like at school, from your parents, that sort of thing. Don't be embarrassed about which words to use, I'll mostly use the formal words, penis rather than dick, for example, but if you're more comfortable with 'street vocabulary', as long it's not too extreme - I don't think we need wall-to-wall 'f-bombs', and the like - feel free to use whatever jargon you like. I'll tell you if there's any 'new words or phrases' I haven't caught up with yet! And, thinking about it, if there are any 'bad language' words that you've heard that you don't understand properly, or at all, tell me, and we can discuss them. This isn't an exercise in conventional morality, it's making sure that you the information you need, OK? And finally, whatever we say to each other, is confidential, I'll never tell anyone else without your permission - in one, and only one, exception, namely that if you've been hurt, by anyone, physically or psychologically, I'd be obliged to tell your parents or grandparents, to make sure that you're safe. Sorry for the long, boring sermon, but now it's really your turn to tell me what you know."

Bradley did what I'd asked of him, he was an intelligent and articulate young person, so the 'basics', simple anatomical information, the 'baby making' process, and the like, were quickly dealt with. He was rather more hazy regarding female anatomy, though, so that was the first topic we dealt with in earnest.

"I've seen Sophie undressed, plenty of times, when we were younger, but there's not that much to see, is there? She told me, a while ago, that she can put her finger inside her....vagina, to make herself feel good, and it gets wet and slippery down there, too. Why does that happen?"

"It's for lubrication, basically. If a penis, or even a finger, goes into a dry vagina, it can stick, and be painful for the girl, or even the boy. The wetness helps everything slide nicely. It's the girl's equivalent of a boy's erection, one of the ways the body signals the brain to say 'sex coming soon'."

The boy smiled slightly. "OK, I understand that now. But that doesn't happen inside the bum, does it? So if I was to have sex with a boy, what would I have to do instead? Not that I know anyone who would want to do that sort of stuff with me, but still."

That neatly brought us to the subject of anal sex, its pros and cons. "So I would have to use a condom, even though there's no chance of making a baby?"

"Highly advisable. If you know for certain, as in 100%, your potential partner is safe, if, for example, they've been tested for any relevant diseases, or if you know they've never had sex with anyone else, you'd probably be fine, but the anus is not a sterile area, in other words, there are loads of germs kicking around, mostly not really dangerous, but sometimes some real nasties occasionally - AIDS is probably the best known of those. Again, you can minimise the risks by washing yourself carefully and thoroughly, and make sure your partner does the same, so I would never say 'don't ever do it without a condom in any circumstances', just be sensible about the pitfalls."

"Have you ever done it with anyone, Jack?"

"No, it's never appealed to me, either giving or receiving. But that's just me, many people do it, and enjoy it. Males with males, and males with females, too."

Bradley shuddered visibly. "I don't want to do anything with girls, ever! I mean, I really like Sophie, she's my best friend, but do sex stuff with her, no thank you! If she was a boy instead, that would be a dream come true, but I know that can't happen."

"That's life, unfortunately, sunshine. I was lucky, I found out I liked boys and girls - well, one girl, at least. That's called bisexuality, by the way, if you've never tripped over the word."

He nodded in recognition. "Yeah, I've heard of that." He looked at me, rather shyly. "Jack....was Vic your 'one girl'?" I raised my eyebrows, but didn't otherwise respond. The boy flushed and lowered his eyes. "S....sorry, that was me being nosey...."

"Hey, hey, don't get upset, please. An honest question deserves a sensible answer. Yes, Bradley, Vic and I were....boyfriend and girlfriend, for one wonderful summer. We were like you and Sophie before that, best friends since we were very little, but we eventually worked out we really loved each other. But then we were separated, permanently, through no fault of our own. It was heartbreaking. But now Vic is back, and I couldn't be happier. Have you got someone special in your life yet?"

"N....not really. There's one boy at rugby, I like him a lot, and I think he likes me too, but it's....scary, if I try to tell him how I feel, and he doesn't feel the same...." His voice trailed off.

I gave him an sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "People who don't like us try to make out that we're different, in a bad way, but in reality, we're not, we have the same feelings, and. sometimes, the same problems. I don't know your friend, obviously, but if you want my advice, carry on being friends, but maybe try to deepen the friendship, invite him to your house, if that's feasible, get to know him better one-to-one, that sort of thing. You might find that he's straight, if that's the case, it doesn't mean that he can't be a friend, but, just maybe, he might be gay, or bi, or just curious - boys experiment, especially at your sort of age, he might be predominately interested in girls, but still open to a bit of sexy fun! There are all sorts of permutations that could crop up."

"I'd really like to....experiment with him! I've seen him in the showers at rugby, he's hunky! And he's....got a big one, too! I'd love to play with it!" Bradley grinned, before looking more serious. "I've heard that guys like to get their....penises sucked. Does that happen a lot?"

Another useful cue, so we discussed oral sex. It was a subject the boy was clearly fascinated about - and one that made him physically excited. He adjusted himself more than once, not particularly subtly. When he realised he'd been busted, he grinned sheepishly, blushing furiously.

"Sorry, Jack, I can't help it! This stuff gets me....horny!"

"Don't apologise, it's perfectly natural, especially at your age! You can have a....'bathroom break' if you like, to release the pressure, don't sit there feeling uncomfortable and....frustrated!"

His eyes were like saucers. "Really?! You wouldn't mind?"

"Course not, I was a boy too, about a million years ago! Go up to the main bathroom, maybe, I know there's a good lock on the door there. Just don't make a mess, you don't want to upset your Gran!"

"I don't make messes yet!" he grinned. "See you in a few minutes!"

Hearing the stairs creak - it was an old house - Jennifer popped her head into the doorway.

"All done?"

"Not quite, Bradley just needed the toilet. But I don't think we'll be too much longer."

"Another half an hour?"

"I reckon so." We heard the sound of water running upstairs.

"Oops, I'd better disappear. Don't want to embarrass the poor thing! Lunch in an hour?"

"Perfect, Jennifer, thank you."

A minute later, the boy came back into the lounge, looking slightly flushed.

"Feeling better?" I asked him. Another sheepish grin. "I'll take that as a 'yes'! OK, there's one thing we haven't talked about yet. It's not very exciting, but it is important, in my opinion. What do you know about 'consent'?" 

As it turned out, consent was a big issue at his school, after one or two unsavoury incidents, albeit their take on the subject was more geared to the reputation of the institution rather than genuinely with the pupils' best interests at heart, but at least they weren't sweeping the issue under the carpet, and Bradley had a reasonable grasp of what was acceptable, or not. We'd been talking for well over an hour, overall, by that time, unsurprisingly the boy was getting somewhat restless.

"Had enough for now, sunshine?"

"I think so, if you don't mind, Jack."

"Not at all. If there's anything we've forgotten, you can e-mail me, or give me a call, if you prefer."

"Thanks, that would be great!" His face, which had been smiling, changed rather abruptly to a frown. Something had struck his mind, I suspected. "Jack....why didn't you find a boyfriend, when you were younger, if you already knew you were mostly gay?"

I shouldn't have been surprised by Bradley's question, given that we'd been discussing sex and relationships for an hour and a half, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. What could I say, and what could the implications be? I could've been evasive, or even untruthful, but that didn't sit right with me. I'd asked the boy to be candid and open in our conversation, doing the opposite struck me as tantamount to a betrayal. But he was barely 12 years old, despite his evident maturity, how would he react? Would he think that I'd been 'grooming' him in some fashion? The seconds marched past, almost audibly, in my mind. The boy looked at me quizzically, as though he knew there was an unexpected problem.

"S....sorry Jack, I shouldn't have asked."

"No, I should be the one to apologise, I was....thinking of not telling you the truth, to protect myself. But you've been more than honest, and you deserve the same courtesy. But....you might not like the answer." He said nothing, instead looking perplexed once more. "When I was about your age, I started to realise that I was more interested in boys than girls, but I was pretty scared at that prospect. The word 'homophobic' wasn't used back then, but that was how the world was, even the word 'gay' wasn't used until a bit later, it started to come in when I was doing my A-Levels, or thereabouts. The words were 'queer', 'poof', 'fairy'. Most people, certainly where I lived, either hated gay people or, at best, laughed at us. I didn't know anyone at school who was openly gay. Not even one, out of the 750-ish boys while I was there. And we got absolutely no sex education, not even straight sex, let alone anything to do with homosexuality. Then it got even worse, for me, because by the time I was about 16, I worked out that....I wasn't attracted to men. At all. I was only interested in....boys. Boys than younger than me. I hated it, but I couldn't pretend that it wasn't true. You can lie to anyone, about anything, but you can never fool yourself. And my Mum seemed to guess what my 'problem' was, she looked daggers at me if even noticed at a cute guy on TV, the disapproval was so obvious, it made me convinced that I was dirty and worthless. So that's why I didn't have a boyfriend. I'm sorry if you think I'm disgusting, but I didn't want to lie to you."

"S....so you've always liked boys, but never been able to....do stuff with them?"

"That's about the height of it."

"That's really sad, Jack. I wish you could've done it, even if it was only once." He suddenly smiled at me, brightly. "You can do something with me, if you like! I bet it would be fun!"

My emotions almost overwhelmed me, but with the greatest difficulty, I managed to keep things in check. "Bradley, that's one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me. You're such a special person. But I simply can't take up your offer, much as I would like to. You're a very attractive guy, trust me, and if it was consensual and legal, I'd jump at the chance. But because of your age, it would cause far too many problems, for too many people. Me, you, your parents, your grandparents, the long arm of the law, but most of all my beloved Vic. I lost her for such a long time, I couldn't bear to lose her again." I looked at him, earnestly. "If you wouldn't mind, though, could I give you a hug, please?" He nodded without hesitation, and quickly snuggled his right leg against my left. It made for a slightly awkward posture, so he swung his left leg over me, ending up more or less sitting in my lap, face-to-face. My arms enfolded his torso, making him sigh in pleasure. He shuffled even closer to me, and I instantly felt the unmistakable sensation of his arousal - and it was substantial, for his age. I had no ambition to allow the situation to deteriorate, if that was the right word, any further, so I gently nudged him back towards the seat of the sofa. He pouted very briefly, but his expression soon changed to a smile.

"I wish I was old enough, Jack, that was nice!"

"It was lovely for me, too, sunshine, but it was enough. Any more would've been too tempting. I really hope you find someone special for yourself, soon, whether it's your rugby pal, or someone else. You deserve it!" 

"Thanks, Jack, for everything. I could do with another 'bathroom break', but two in a quarter of an hour might be a bit suspicious! I'll save it for bedtime!"

I laughed out loud. "You're too delightful for words! It's been so good to get to know you better, I hope we can chat often in the future. Anyway, I think lunch will be ready fairly soon, and I thought I heard Vic and Sophie coming back, as well, so shall call it quits for now?" We traded another fist bump, and went to find the rest of our family members.

****

Vic and I were in the 'drawing room' of Reggie's London house, sipping sherry in beautiful crystal glasses. The 'launch event' for the TV adaptation of Cousinhood, as was befitting for a show aimed at youngsters, had been planned as a matinee, at 2:30, so we were due to leave 1:30. The genial host had made all of the arrangements, a luxury SUV would be arriving imminently.

"I'm very grateful that you don't mind sharing transport with my daughter and her friends, it saves a goodly amount of worry about co-ordination. Ros is delighted to 'show you off' to the other young ladies, it's been a 'feather in her cap'. 'Pecking orders' are important at their age."

"Not just for teenagers, Reggie, as I'm sure you well know!" Vic laughed.

"Touché, my dear! Most of us are hidebound by convention, are we not?!" Reggie's phone pinged, presumably in response to a text. "Ah, splendid, the carriage awaits! I'll get Ros and co moving straight away."

Five minutes later, we were on our way. The vehicle was very roomy, and equally well-appointed. Vic and I sat in the second row, as it were, with Ros and her two school friends, Elspeth and Grace, at the back. The driver was a smartly dressed, well-built six-footer with a strong Scottish accent. 'Reminds me of home', Vic whispered to me, grinning. Ros evidently knew him already, referring to him as 'Mr Cleland', while he addressed her as 'Miss Barclay', although whether he was a direct employee of Reggie's, or a contractor, I obviously didn't know. The traffic was typically busy, given that it was a midweek working day, but there were no undue delays, and it was around thirty minutes later that we drew into a moderately sized car park at the side of a modern four storey office building. There were a number of bystanders, mostly, seemingly, tween and early teen young people, some with copies of our story in hand. 

"Autograph hunters, do you think?" Vic said, with a little surprise in her face.

"Could be. I'm not keen on the idea of being a 'celebrity', but we should be, at least, cordial to our well-wishers, I think." I replied. At that moment, we heard the sound of running feet, adult rather than juvenile, and a loud shout of 'Get the paedo scum!' heading in our direction.

"Keep your seatbelts on!" Mr Cleland ordered urgently. "We'll need to make a quick exit!" The car lurched forward almost instantaneously, making a stomach-churning 180 degree turn, tyres squealing in protest, through the car park, before heading to the exit and into back onto the public road. 

"What the bloody hell is going on!" I shouted.

"Rent-a-Mob, I'm afraid, Mr Porter," the man explained. He called to Ros. "Got your Dad on the phone, Miss Barclay?"

"Yes, can you switch Bluetooth on, please, so everyone can hear, Mr Cleland?"

"Done!" Reggie's voice, with an obvious note of concern, immediately filled the surround sound speakers of the car.

"Is everyone safe, Ros?"

"Yes, Dad, Mr Cleland saw to that. We're still running a little bit early, can we find somewhere to wait for a few minutes until the backup sorts out the rabble?"

"I'll deal with that, Miss Barclay, we'll be in good time for the presentation, nae bother!" the Scotsman said with confidence. "I think we might have a mole, Reggie, the ne'er-do-wells seemed be ready for us, even before we were stationary. Any suspects you can think of?"

"Not offhand, old chap, but I'll make some enquiries soonest. Ah, good, the boys in blue have dealt with the on-hand miscreants, I've had a text to that effect. Safe to head back to the venue, I believe. Thank you for your estimable services once more, Jamie. I'll call you as soon as I've got anything germane to report. Enjoy your afternoon, everyone!" The line disconnected.

"I feel like I've accidently walked into a spy novel!" Vic commented. "It's bizarre, in spades. OK, we're very slightly well-known, but we're not famous, or even infamous. I can't even guess what's behind all this stuff!"

"Have a chat with Ms Swift when you get the chance," Mr Cleland said. "I doubt she knows the whole story, any more than I do, but she'll probably be able to enlighten you a little." The car had returned to the venue. " Here we are, there will be plenty of security around now, it'll be safe as houses."

"Hmmm," Vic mused, "I wonder if Kim already knows more than she's telling us. I'll read her the Riot Act if she does!"

"We'll see her very soon, but I don't know we'll able to talk to her until after the preview. All that drama has made us tight for time. Let's go in, and see what happens next," I observed.

As we exited the car, there was a ripple of applause from the assembled young people. We waved briefly, before we were waylaid by a number of the company, politely asking for our signatures. It was a good five minutes before we were able to make our way into the building proper. There was a gaggle of people in the foyer, largely unknown to Vic and I, but looking like 'media' types, along with a small number of younger guests, including, we were delighted to see, Bradley and Sophie. Vic hugged both of them, while I dispensed the usual fist bumps.

"Hi guys! Lovely to see you! Did you have a good journey up here?" I asked.

"Yeah!" the boy enthused. "It's been fun so far, we had a good bus ride this morning, then had lunch in a posh burger place. And now we're here, ready to see the show!" In the event, only Ben, Bradley's father, and his wife Siobhan, were able to take the trip to the capital, Sophie's parents, Connor and May, had been stymied by unexpected work issues. I'd only met the parents once, and only then for a matter of minutes at Jennifer's place, but Vic knew them much better, giving me the chance to speak them in an organised fashion for the first time. We shook hands, before Ben set the pace of our conversation - like father, like son, I wryly thought, Rob was a talkative sort, but in a pleasant way, and his son was little different.

"Bradley was praising you to the skies after your chat at Mum and Dad's a month or so ago. We're so grateful for what you've done for him, even to the extent of giving him some pointers about finding a....special friend." I looked at him with curiosity. "Yes, it looks like he's in the process acquiring himself a boyfriend! Young Grayson, Bradley's rugby teammate, and my son have been joined at the hip in the last couple of weeks. It's quite sweet to see, to be honest, young love, and all that, and it's no less valid that they're both boys. It's more or less innocent at the moment, although I suspect it might be getting....spicier before long, but thanks to your wise counsel, they know rather more than the average for their age, including how they can care for each other safely."

"It was no problem at all, Ben, I can assure you. Bradley is wonderful company, it was nothing less than a treat for me. And it's nice to hear that he's found someone to connect with." 

Before we could talk more, the compère for the event called us to order.

"If you would, ladies and gentlemen, please go into the auditorium, the preview is about to begin."

I took Vic's arm into mine, preparatory to moving into the large room, only to see Kim, on her own, making a beeline towards us. Her face was looking like thunder, furiously angry, but with a secondary element of hurt and betrayal.

"That bitch! She's a fake, I've been completely taken in!"

"Chantelle?" I asked.

"It's not even her bloody proper name! Evelyn van Heuvel, is her real name, and she's part of a very nasty far-right organisation with links with most of the worst of the worst neo-Nazi scumbags you could imagine! The only genuine thing about her is that she's a lesbian, but she's used her sexuality to harm all sorts of people to further her political aims, which are, basically, to have a 'Fourth Reich' rule the world! Oh, I'm so sorry, I've let my lust for her overwhelm my common sense, and it's nearly cost you two your lives, that squad of goons were planning to kill you, in cold blood! And my bloody mother has been mixed up with it all, to make it even worse, I assumed that Reggie's intervention put the frighteners on her, and I've been ignored her lately. Can you ever forgive me?!"

Vic wrapped her into the warmest of hugs. "Kim, we love you, trust me! You've been deliberately used, as far as I can see. Let's talk about this later, it's time to get some good news, about the story, and what it means to people. Come on, sweet, let's go in, they can't start without us."

The adaptation of Cousinhood turned out to be rather impressive. It would been easy to be picky, and complain about this scene or the other, but overall, Vic and I were happy with what we'd seen so far. The TV company were very pleased with the result, and were already making noises about a sequel, which I resolutely stonewalled from the start. Did I want to begin another process leading into going back to an eight hours, six days a week work regime, did Vic? I was dubious, to say the least. I'd found a quiet spot in the corner of the foyer, sipping champagne and lost in my thoughts, when Bradley plopped himself into the corner of the sofa where I'd been sitting.

"Had a good time, sunshine?"

"Yes and no, kind of. I liked the guy who was playing the modern-day boy cousin, he's really good-looking, but when I got the chance to speak to him - he knew who I was - he turned out to be a bit of a dick. He made it clear that he was only playing a gay character for the good of his career, he claimed he doesn't dislike gays, but he didn't want to be one, either. Not that I wanted to do stuff with him, I'm happy with Grayson, but it was still a bit disappointing. But the show looks good, at least."

"I thought all four of the young actors were very good, and I agree with you that your 'avatar' was probably the most handsome. Just like real life, eh?!" I winked at him, making him blush. "Grayson is a lucky guy, that's my opinion!"

"Don't, Jack, you're embarrassing me!"

I ruffled his hair gently. "Sorry, sunshine, I won't do it again. Shall we find the troops and decide what to do about dinner, this lah-di-dah finger food is all very well, but it's nothing like a proper meal!"

The 'after-party', in a upmarket Chinese restaurant, was a very convivial affair. Vic and I hosted Reggie, who was free for the evening (his wife, Margaret, as was usual for her, had stayed in Somerset), Ros and her friends, Ben, Siobhan, Bradley and Sophie, and Kim, who we tried to cheer up, with reasonable success, given the traumatic day, from her perspective. The youngest members of the soirée, along with Bradley's parents, eventually departed by taxi for their hotel, while the rest of us headed to Reggie's house - Kim had been warmly invited to stay the night - where we were royally entertained with a number of bottles of high class fizzy stuff, and brandies, if so inclined. Ros, Elspeth and Grace had a glass of champagne apiece, before they decamped to Ros' bedroom, leaving us 'elders' to chat in Reggie's drawing room once more.

"The TV crowd appear keen to dragoon you into another series," Reggie was saying, "what are the chances, do you think?"

Vic and I looked at each other, smiling. "We haven't completely decided yet," I said, "but at this moment, I think they'll be disappointed, I'm afraid. 'Quit while you're ahead', might be the watchword. Retirement by the sea - again, in my case! - looks like a good option, just now."

"We're looking at a bungalow that's just come into the market," Vic added,  "it's less than a mile from the flat, and we can afford it with our current resources. We've arranged a viewing next week, and as long as there aren't any red flags vis-à-vis the survey, we'll almost certainly buy it."

"Sounds splendid!" Reggie said. "I'm thinking along similar lines, Margaret has completely fallen out with the metropolis, Charlie, our son, is at Oxford, and Ros will be heading to university in a couple of years time, although I suspect she'd prefer to stay close to home, she's a country girl at heart, but the pair of them can keep the family business ticking along in due course. I'll still have to stay in the profession for a few years yet, but the hope and expectation is that I'll be able to retire at around the traditional age. What about yourself, Kim?"

"I'm thinking of a career change, particularly after recent events. I've always been interested in cooking, Grandma taught me how from when I was very young, and I've been talking to a colleague at the university, we've got tentative plans to open a vegetarian/vegan restaurant. It would be hard work, but I'm certainly keen to have a try, although if it doesn't work out, I can go back to freelancing in graphics."

"Oho, that's an interesting development!" Reggie had fielded two texts in quick succession. "Ms van Heuvel has been detained at the Channel Tunnel terminal, on terrorism charges, and Ms Elizabeth Porter has been arrested, on the grounds of conspiracy to murder."

Both Kim and I looked like gaffed fish. Liz, in jail, utterly unbelievable!

"A satisfactory outcome, wouldn't you say?" Reggie said in his most urbane manner. "I'll recharge our glasses, I think a toast, to justice, might be called for!"

****

Vic and I had ambled towards the railway station in good time to meet the early evening train from Glasgow. Our visitors had texted us several times throughout their journey, updating us on their progress, and I had a railway mapping app on my phone open, so we knew, almost to the yard, exactly where they were. The train duly arrived, more or less punctually, a number of commuters disembarked, before four teenagers, replete with luggage, stepped onto the platform. We waved, and were waved at in return. 

"Hi, everyone!" Vic said brightly. "We've ordered a seven seat taxi, the house isn't too far from here, but far enough to be a pain in the bum when you've got a pile of cases and bags to carry! The cab will be here any time, I believe, so we'll be home in a few minutes, and get you all organised with rooms and all that stuff."

The visit had been a long time coming - Bradley and Sophie had wanted to go to Scotland since they were pre-teens, but their parents weren't happy for them to travel such a long distance on their own, and no other permutation was available at that point. That was the beginning of a series of fate seeming to conspire against us, all sorts of last minute snags, unexpected unavailability and health issues - even Vic, hardly a day ill in her whole life, came down with a nasty dose of pneumonia on the eve of one planned trip - causing major frustration, especially on Bradley's part, one particular video call to me, when he was about 14, was punctuated with language that his parents certainly wouldn't have approved of! Another complication came about when the cousins wanted to take their respective 'second-best' friends, Grayson, of course, being Bradley's boyfriend as well as closest male friend, and Charlotte, Lotty to her friends, Sophie's number one girl pal, the two of them met through their weekly stage school, Sophie having become heavily into acting over the years, leading to yet another delay to the travel plans. But here they were, the 'four musketeers' this time, the boys - realistically, strapping young men - now 16, the girls a year younger apiece, all looking delighted to finally find themselves in our little seaside town.

"It's nice to see the sun," Bradley said to me, archly, "you always tell me that it rains all the time!"

"I don't think I've ever said that, but the weather around here is prone to the 'four seasons in one day' syndrome! It's supposed to be fine for the rest of the day, and tomorrow too, but beyond that, I wouldn't recommend throwing your waterproofs in the bin!"

"The scenery is great, from what we've see so far", Sophie said, "I like all the islands you can see."

"Well," I explained, "there are some islands nearby, but the hills further on you've seen from the train are actually part of the mainland. I'll show you a local map when we get home, and you'll be able to see what I mean. But, islands or mainland, it's certainly a nice place to live, we know we're lucky in that respect."

"How long have you been living here, Jack?" Grayson asked.

"More than ten years, for me, eleven, actually, and five and a half for Vic. We did look at moving to closer to your area, Kim still lives in Bristol, and Jennifer and Rob will stay in Somerset for ever, almost certainly, but we decided that we like here too much, despite the weather!"

Half an hour, our youthful visitors were ensconced in their rooms, the boys grabbed the room with a double bed, to no-one's surprise, while the girls were happy to share the room with two singles - they'd been the subject of some snide whisperings about their sexuality, but both were completely straight, blithely ignoring the rumour-mongers. Given their ages, all were ravenously hungry after their long journey, so we quickly headed to the pub for an early dinner. It made for a high-spirited, but not overly loud evening, enjoyed by all. 

That first evening set the tone for the whole fortnight. The younger contingent, largely staying as a foursome, came and went as they wished, with our complete blessing - Bradley and Sophie each had a key for our house - and there was not the least hint of their abusing the privilege, they always told us where they planning to go, checking in by text, if not in person, regularly throughout the various days, and always coming back home at a sensible hour. The only time they were significantly later than usual came about through no fault of their own, the train they'd planned to use had been cancelled because of a mechanical fault, leading them to be stuck at Glasgow Central for an extra hour, Bradley ringing us without delay to tell us what had happened and why. Despite their quite reasonable desire to 'do their own thing', it was a holiday for them, of course, they certainly didn't neglect us, most notably when the weather closed in on the middle Saturday, which ended up being thoroughly wet, but made for an excellent day of fun, games, conversation and unhealthy food, along with a large dose of televised sport - the rugby playing boys were very taken with Aussie Rules, which made Vic and I happy, to the extent that they got up very early on the Sunday morning to watch our beloved Saints with us, and were rewarded with an unexpected victory over one of the more favoured teams. 

As the visit was starting to draw close to its end - our visitors were due to go back home two days later - I went into the lounge, to find Bradley and Grayson quietly and seriously talking to Vic. Whatever they'd been discussing, it appeared that a decision had been taken, Vic was smiling mischievously and said "You'll have to ask Jack, but I certainly don't mind."

"What are you crew trying to cook up?" I asked, quite affably, but with a modicum of dubiety in my mind.

"Come into the study with us, please, Jack. We want to talk to you, in private," Bradley said.

I looked at Vic quizzically, but all I got in return was an even bigger smirk. "Do as you're told, Jack Porter! Or else!"

"Yes ma'am!" Vic and I were more or less complete equals within our relationship, but she had always been 'the leader', from when we'd been very young children, so I wasn't inclined to argue with her, even in jest. I made my way to the small room off the hallway, the boys following me, closing the door behind them.

"What I have done wrong?!" I asked light-heartedly.

"Nothing at all, Jack, it's something we want to do for you, something you've wanted for most of your life, but never been able to do," Bradley said earnestly.

I was feeling rather confused, but there was a glimmer of understanding was beginning to form in my mind. Surely, they don't mean....

Grayson caught my drift at once. "Yes, Jack, we want to you to come to bed with us. I know we're probably a bit old for your ideal tastes, but the big advantage is that we're totally legal."

"Consensual and legal, that was the phrase you used when I was 12, wasn't it, Jack?" Bradley smiled. "Well, we qualify in both respects now. All you need to say is 'yes'. Vic is happy for us to do this, so it's all down to you. If you'd rather not, we'll understand, but it would be a disappointment. Please say 'yes', Jack, we'll look after you, we promise."

I was almost speechless. "But I'm old, fat and a bit smelly, why on earth would you want get involved with the likes of me?"

"Because you're kind, caring and loving, we both think you're an absolute star. You deserve to have your biggest ambition fulfilled, we can make that happen. Go and get a quick shower, then put your bathrobe on, and meet us in our bedroom. You won't regret it!"

The boys both kissed my cheeks, before hugging me warmly. Any further hesitation melted away.

"Thank you so much, guys! I won't be long!" Just as I was opening the bathroom door, Vic appeared in the hallway, grinning like a Cheshire cat, she gave me a big thumbs up and mouthed 'Go for it!' at me. I couldn't help but grin goofily in my turn.

Twenty minutes later, clad as requested, I tapped on their door. "Come in, Jack," a muffled voice called. I entered the room, and almost collapsed in surprise. Bradley and Grayson were naked and obviously 'ready to play', I'd half expected that to be case, but the 'shock and awe' element was that both were, as far as I could see, utterly glabrous beyond the hair on their heads.

"Oh wow!" I breathed in wonder. "Have you done this just for me?"

Bradley laughed at my amazement. "We've been thinking about shaving each other for a while, but never quite gone through with it. So, yeah, this is for you, we thought you'd like us better looking younger, but it's for us as well. A win-win situation, we hope!"

I shook my head, hardly believing my eyes. Grayson comfortably looked his proper age, maybe even appearing a little older than his 16 years, but Bradley, especially without body hair, could have easily passed as 15, even 14 at a pinch. His genitals, too, while not remotely resembling those of a 'little boy', were somewhat smaller and more slender than his boyfriend's. In short, Bradley was close to being my 'ideal', a hebephile's dream. Despite my age, and indifferent health, I was certainly aroused, and both boys knew it.

"Looks like you're in the mood to join us!" Grayson grinned. "Lose the robe, Jack, please, let's enjoy ourselves!"

I needed no further encouragement, scrambling into the central position they nudged me into.

"What would you like to do first?" Grayson asked. "This night is all about you, so don't be shy!"

I gulped a huge breath into my lungs, the excitement in my mind was at boiling point, to the degree that I could hardly speak.

"I....I prefer giving pleasure, rather than receiving, ideally. And the biggest fantasy I've had, for decades, is to....suck a boy to orgasm." I looked at Grayson, trying to say what I wanted to say, but it was making me guilty. "I want to give both of you pleasure, but....would you mind if Bradley is my....first ever boy? You're so handsome, Grayson, but Bradley - I can't lie, I've been attracted to him from the first time I ever saw him, when he was 11. He looked so much like Vic, at the same age." There were tears in my eyes. "Sorry, I'm making a mess of all this stuff, maybe I should just go and let you two have fun together without me ruining...."

Bradley leaned in from my left, gluing his lips onto mine for long, long seconds, before drawing away just enough to allow our eyes to focus correctly. "You're not ruining anything, Jack! This is what we want to do. We've talked about this for months, and we already knew that you've always been more interested in me. I would be honoured to be your first boy, trust me!" He straddled my chest, kissing me once more, before whispering in my ear. "Go really slow, I want to last as long as I can. Then give you a huge mouthful of spunk!"

For all the times I'd dreamed about boys, the real thing was magnitudes better. The taste, the smell, the feeling of a boy, his hard as steel erection, the gasps and groans emanating from his mouth, were nothing short of ecstatic. And when he could take no more - 'Go crazy now, Jack, I'm gonna cum, any second, it here comes!' - the sensation of his penis throbbing, the flavour of his ejaculate, in my mouth was almost enough to make me orgasm in sympathy. I swallowed, twice, to make sure I lost none of his offering. I thought he might be too sensitive to carry on, but I was wrong - 'Don't stop, I want another one!' - and, of course, I obliged. Much less forcefully than the first, but it was only a matter of a few minutes when he groaned anew, adding a teaspoon or two to his earlier contribution, which I greedily consumed.

"Phew!" he grinned. "Bloody wonderful, for a beginner!"

Another kiss, with tongues, kept me on the brink of climax. "I taste pretty good, don't I?!" he cheekily observed.

"Perfection, you gorgeous creature! But now it's Grayson's turn, as long he wants a turn, of course!"

"Damn right I do, shift your arse out of the way, you!" he commanded his boyfriend, playfully.

Given my inexperience at fellatio, I didn't do as well second time around, albeit I tried my level best. Grayson was bigger in most respects, he was taller and heavier - all muscle, in his case, not flab like me - and a penis at least 10% larger in both length and breadth than Bradley. I actually gagged at one point, and I'm sure I'd nicked him with my teeth more than once, but he was patient, which eventually allowed me to bring him to a strong orgasm.

"Mmmm, that was a good one, Jack! Thank you!"

"And now it's your turn!" Bradley told me. "We're going to double-team you, just let us know when you're close!"

To my surprise, the process didn't take very long at all, maybe ten minutes, before I was there, urgently warning them of my impending climax. Grayson moved aside a little, but Bradley didn't, he took me into his mouth with insanely pleasurable suction, and took my complete load without difficulty, swallowing as avidly as I had when the positions were reversed.

"Oh, sweet boy! That was....indescribably good! And thank you too, Grayson, to help me achieve what I thought would never happen." My tears finally flowed. "S....sorry to be....such a drama queen, b....but I've been waiting a....and hoping for something like that for more than fifty years!"

"Ssshhh, Jack, don't worry. We're just happy to share the moment with you! Let's snuggle together for a while, then we can decide what to do next, if anything." Bradley told me gently.

We stayed in their room for another hour or so, they were kind enough to allow me access to their bodies one more time, the last experience of the evening was my suckling Bradley lovingly, his beautiful face drowning in pleasure, eyes closed, as orgasm washed over his body yet again. A few minutes later, I quietly slipped into my own bedroom, where my beloved girl was waiting for me.

"Worth the wait?" Vic asked me, fondly.

"It was very special, thank you for allowing me the chance. But if a whole harem of cute boys was at my disposal, I'd still choose you!"

"Bloody bullshitter!" I pouted like a petulant five year-old, making her snigger. "But at least you're my bullshitter!" We kissed with all of the love, sixty years and more in the making, in our hearts.

****

Epilogue

Sadly, Jack, the genuine writer in our partnership, isn't able to complete this afterword, so you'll just have to put up with the colonial typist (He was very cross with me when he read this sentence, he told me I was demeaning myself, but I'm in charge now, so he'll just have to lump it!). So, I'll tell you where we're up to now.

Six months after the 'fabulous foursome' went back to the West Country, almost to the day, Jack and I were at home, watching a Premier League match in TV. It was mid-January, not cold, but damp and dank, an ideal day to stay at home. We'd been chatting, as was our wont, during the game, commenting on this incident or the other, but the banter gradually waned, and I wondered whether Jack had dozed off. It would've been unusual, albeit not unprecedented, given his habitual early rising, but when I looked at his face, I saw at once that his eyes were open, but unfocused. Alarm bells began to sound in my head, confirmed when he seemed to unable to speak to me. I rang 999 immediately, fearing the worst.

And the worst was realised, it was, indeed, another stroke. Jack was very poorly, for several days, but he's a fighter, and ultimately pulled through. The damage within his brain was moderately severe, according to the hospital consultant, and once more seemed to affect his speech more than any other faculty, but his capacity to write also suffered, leading to endless frustration, especially in the early weeks of his rehabilitation. By the time he was discharged from the hospital, we decided to follow a 'DIY' regime, based on what he'd learned from his first illness, rather than be beholden to NHS 'cookie-cutter' protocols, and so far, in the six months on from his second attack, our approach is starting to bear fruit. But it's very unlikely that another project like Cousinhood would ever see the light - after all, we're septuagenarians now, I reckon we deserve to put our feet up!

So, what about the other participants in the dramatis personae of this little tale? Kim, our partner in crime, has gone from strength to strength, owning and operating three restaurants in the Bristol and Avon areas, two catering to vegetarians, one strictly vegan, along with a successful podcast, an associated cookbook and popular culinary merchandise, like kitchenware and crockery, to her own designs. A veritable plant-based powerhouse! After the betrayal she suffered at the hands of Chantelle/Evelyn, Kim fought shy of further romantic entanglements for years, preferring the company of her two adorable cats, but latterly, she has found a hitherto platonic connection with a local musician, male by birth but gender fluid by nature. How that pans out, we don't yet know, but, obviously, we hope it makes Kim happy.

Bradley and Sophie are still in the educational system, Bradley halfway into his A-Levels, Sophie about to start to begin her first Sixth Form year. The boy had been hoping to make professional sport his career, but by 16, he realised that he wasn't quite at the level required - he was a county schools standard rugby player, but that was his ceiling, unfortunately, so he'd switched to the track I'd followed 50-odd years earlier, aiming to be a PE teacher. Sophie also had lofty ambitions, in the acting profession in her case, with some modest success - she'd played a recurring character in a well-known children's series on TV, as well as minor parts in other shows, but she wasn't allowing herself to be starry-eyed about her prospects, knowing that the likelihood of being 'a star' wasn't great, and had chosen her A-Level options with a view to go to university, like her cousin, as a teacher, English and Drama being her preferred subjects. 

Reggie was close to achieving his aim of retiring at 65, he'd already reduced his workload considerably, spending much more time in Somerset than London. His son had recently qualified as a junior barrister, and was being tipped to be a rising star in his father's profession, but Ros completely changed course in terms of prospective career, moving into the financial world as an analyst, rather to Reggie's disappointment.

And what of our jailbirds? Evelyn van Heuvel was sentenced to fifteen years imprisonment for her crimes, after which she'll be deported from the UK, while Liz was given a minimum term of ten years for her part in the plot to kill Jack and I. Her downfall gave us no joy whatsoever, but the fact that her rabid hatred had been quelled did allow us to sleep in our beds rather more easily.

So there it is, the end of our story. My cousin and I still love each other, and always will. I hope you all find your own special person, or people. Love makes it all worthwhile, believe me.

With love, Vic xxxx and Jack xxxx

****

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B