NO HALF MEASURES

 

By Jenny Walker

2003

 

PART 7

 

 

 

Author's note: I cant believe that so many of you have stuck with me on this story which has gone on for so many pages! Thank you to all of you and especially those of you who have kindly taken the time to leave comments. Thanks and credit are due to the wonderful Hebe Dotson and Anne Baker who tirelessly correct my mistakes and improve my writing I could not have done it without you two special ladies any errors that remain, are mine.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 43

 

 

I was speechless as Simon walked around me. Simon? It was Simon? How? Why? The questions flooded my mind.

 

Simon walked over, grabbed a chair and sat in front of me. His eyes were very cold and I couldnt begin to work out what was going on.

 

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

 

He blinked and frowned. "Didn't you hear what I called you? I called you Nick."

 

I looked at him and made a snap decision as to how I was going to respond. I shrugged. "Nic as in short for Nicola? Big deal. More importantly, what have you got to do with all this. Do you know that one of those thugs outside shot Gareth?"

 

He shrugged and then sighed with exasperation. "Who cares? I call you Nick as in short for Nicholas," he said slowly, as if speaking to someone who was not too quick on the uptake.

 

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

 

He laughed. "Oh don't play little 'Miss' Innocent with me." He put a certain emphasis on the word 'Miss'. "I know your horrid little secret. You thought you were so smart, but I worked it out. You can maybe fool the rest of the world, but not me."

 

I screwed up my face and affected a look of bewilderment. "Secret? What are you talking about?"

 

He cursed under his breath. "Who you used to be Nicholas Evans."

 

"Simon, I have no idea what you are talking about. You know who I am; I'm Nicola Evans. What's this Nicholas stuff?"

 

He looked at me without speaking for a moment. He nodded and spoke in a softer voice, "Alright, you want me to spell it out for you? You need me to show you how stupid you are? Last December I met what I thought was a pretty young girl not the best looking I've ever seen, though who had a decent voice. When I met her, I thought there was something slightly familiar about her, but didn't think anything more of it. Well, we signed her up and made preparations to record her album."

 

I sat poker-faced and listened as he continued, "It was maybe late January when I was going over the background details, her biography and the like when something struck me. I couldn't work out what it was, but I knew there was something significant that I was missing. It came to me a few days later: your name was Nicola Evans. That name rang a bell with me, but I wasn't sure where I had heard it before. I checked back through my records and what did I find? I remembered an appointment that I had with a loser guy called Nick Evans who wanted to be a rock star. This was laughable since he was such a wimp. You know, I just wondered to myself Nick Evans? Nicola Evans? Then I dismissed it. Surely there was no connection between this deadbeat and the lovely young woman we had signed up. After all, it was just over a month after sending this Nick packing, that 'Nicola' turned up. Coincidence? I thought so, but something kept nagging me.

 

"Yes, but I don't see what"

 

"Then shut up and listen!" he said harshly. "Anyway, a certain day in May which I'm sure you'll remember," he paused and smiled in a twisted way, "since your mother died later that very day." I bit my tongue and wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words hurt me. "I had been trying to get you to do a radio promotional slot, but you kept fobbing me off. You said something about a doctor's appointment. Not that I cared, but I did the whole concerned thing and asked if you were OK. You spun the 'women's problems' cock and bull story and those little nags came back to the forefront of my mind."

 

He leaned back in his chair. He seemed to be enjoying himself. "I got a certain associate of mine to follow you that day. Harley Street, the rooms of a certain Janice Carson. I did a bit of background on the lovely doctor. She's an endocrinologist, and would you happen to know what one of her specialist interests is?" I stared at him and remained silent. "Let me tell you then. She takes a particular interest in the hormonal treatment of patients with gender dysphoria. Now that got my interest and I really started to be suspicious"

 

"What a load of crap," I interrupted. "You think that because I went to a doctor who does some of that gender dys whatever, you think that's me?" I laughed at him.

 

His eyes narrowed. "You have a different reason?"

 

I laughed again. "Of course I do. I have an under active thyroid gland and that is why I attend Dr. Carson." I shook my head. "You thought I used to be a man? Is that what this is all about?"

 

He looked a little taken aback and then regained his composure. "I'm not finished yet, why don't I go on with this little story?"

 

"Simon, I don't understand why you're doing all this, but please, youve got to help Gareth!"

 

He ignored my plea. "I had my suspicions, but not much else to go on. I watched you closely at every opportunity, but to all intents and purposes you seemed to be the young woman you purported to be. Of course, I couldn't claim to be disappointed with the way your career was going. As the 'discovering liaison' I earned a hefty commission on all your sales. Things were busy and I put my theory on the back burner until I got a call from someone who said she was an old school teacher of yours. Mrs. Forbes was her name, if I recall correctly, and she was looking for your phone number. This got me thinking so I decided to get one of my associates to pay a visit to your old school. He made an unscheduled visit one weekend and did a little sleuthing. He brought me back a souvenir. Let me go and get it."

 

I had a fair idea what was coming and my mind was racing as I tried to work out how to respond. Simon popped out of the room and came back in with a book in his hand. "Recognise this?" he asked. He brought it closer so I could see the title.

 

"That's my old year book," I said trying to appear surprised.

 

"Do you know what I found in it? I looked for someone with the surname Evans and what did I find?" He theatrically opened the book and then gave a mock-gasp. "Look, the page that would have your name on it is missing. Why would that be? Perhaps because it would have said Nicholas Evans instead of Nicola?"

 

I laughed again and shook my head. "I don't believe this."

 

"What's so funny?" he said with obvious irritation.

 

I smirked. "You want to know why that page is missing? Remember the journalist Keith Wilkinson? He ripped out that page when he was down scouting round the school for background on me. That was why Mrs. Forbes rang me. She didn't really take to him."

 

"Why would he rip that page out?"

 

I sighed. "He wanted to use the photograph of me to show me in my earlier days. He asked my permission, but I refused."

 

"Why did you refuse?"

 

I shrugged. "I was eighteen and still a bit gawky. My hair looked awful, I had a crooked smile. OK, call me vain, but I didn't want to spoil my image with this photo of a simpering little girl in the article."

 

Simon looked at me long and hard then shook his head. "No, I don't believe it."

 

I sighed. "Did your clever little associate think to check the school records? To see if this mystery Nicholas Evans ever went to the school?"

 

He didn't answer so I prompted, "Well? Did he check?"

 

Simon nodded grudgingly.

 

"What did he find?" I asked speaking in the same slow voice as he had done to me earlier.

 

"He found a record for Nicola Evans."

 

I nodded. "Really? What a surprise. Now would you drop this stupid notion of yours and tell me what this is really all about."

 

"I'm not done yet," he said in a menacing voice. "The school records could have been faked." I laughed and he shouted, "Shut your face, bitch, and listen." I glared at him and he continued, "I knew there was something being hidden, so I came up with the way to prove it. I started sending those anonymous notes to you."

 

"Bastard," I hissed.

 

He shrugged carelessly. "Of course the Carstairs bitch showed them to me and I maintained we had to tell you. No point sending them if they didn't get to their target. As you remember, you saw the first three and I advised that we should tell the police."

 

I frowned. "If you were the one who sent the notes, why did you want the police involved?"

 

He smiled as if proud of himself. "There was no way of linking them to me. I ensured there were no prints of mine on the notes. I used paper that some of our secretaries had handled. Those prints wouldn't help the police. The real reason for getting the police involved was to smoke you out. You see I then sent the fourth note that I am sure you especially remember. It had the all-important word in it: transsexual. Then I waited to see if Carstairs would inform me about the note. She didn't. Would the police be told? Apparently not. Now why would this be?" He paused as if for effect. "Because you didn't want to reveal your dirty little secret."

 

I shook my head and smirked again. "Unbelievable," I murmured.

 

"You have a different explanation?"

 

"Well, yeah. You want to know why we didn't tell you or the police? Did you think we wanted a ridiculous rumour going round that I used to be a man or something? You know what the press are like. Truth doesn't matter. So what if it was the fabrication of a twisted pathetic mind." I saw him clench and unclench his fists as I said that. "For heaven's sake, they practically insinuated that Jools and I were lesbians with no factual basis whatsoever. What do you think they would have done if they had got wind of this make-believe note? The reason we didn't tell you was that we didn't want any leaks at all. It wasn't that we didn't think we could trust you although, in retrospect, I can see that in a different light."

 

He got up and started pacing. He shook his head. "No, I don't believe you. You're lying."

 

When I thought about it, his train of thought now did seem to be circumstantial and built on a lot of suppositions. I thought I had shaken him. The fact that he had been right all along made it difficult to maintain my faade, but I knew that I had to if I wanted to keep the upper hand in this crazy situation.

 

"Why would I lie, Simon?" I said softly.

 

He stopped pacing. "No one gets the better of me. No one! Do you hear?"

 

I looked at him with pity. "You're crazy, Simon."

 

He laughed and shrugged. "It's been said before."

 

"Look in my handbag, Simon. Look at my I.D. My bag's in the corner where your thugs threw it."

 

He paused and then shook his head. "That can be faked."

 

"Take a look," I suggested gently.

 

He reluctantly grabbed my bag and unceremoniously dumped the contents out. I tried not to smirk when I saw him notice the pack of tampons that Jools had insisted I carry always. A woman is always prepared, she would say. He took my purse and opened it. He pulled out my driving licence and looked at it closely.

 

"Anyone can change their name and get a new licence," he said defensively.

 

"Look at the date of issue on it," I said patiently.

 

I was thankful for the painstaking care that had gone into making my I.D. documents. The date of issue was the same as that of my previous 'Nick' licence. It was four years back. He frowned and threw it down. "Means nothing," he said.

 

"Look at my National Insurance card. What name is on it?" Everyone knows that you can't get a new National Insurance card with a different name on it. He looked at it and scowled.

 

"You're trying to trick me like you've done all along. I'm not going to fall for it," he raged at me.

 

I began to get worried that Simon was actually unhinged.

 

"There's one way to prove this, once and for all," he said with determination. He called two of his thugs in and they uncuffed my hands and pulled me to my feet. "Take your jeans off," he ordered.

 

I stared at him. "Go to hell," I spat.

 

He laughed. "Probably one day. Do it!"

 

"No," I said defiantly.

 

He nodded to the two men standing either side of me. They cuffed my hands behind my back again and began to unbutton my jeans. "Get off me you sick bastards," I screamed.

 

They ignored me and roughly pulled my jeans off. Simon instructed them to cuff me to the chair again and he got them to tie my ankles to the legs of the chair. He sent them out of the room.

 

"Don't want to disappoint the boys," he sneered. "They think they've got a little hottie here and I've promised them they can have a go at you when I'm done with you." He laughed. "Half of them are probably already beating themselves off at the thought."

 

I shivered involuntarily. "You're sick," I said with revulsion.

 

He grinned. "I don't think they'll be too thrilled when they see what you've got in your panties there." He advanced towards me.

 

"Get away from me," I said with genuine fear.

 

He reached down and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and yanked them down. He saw my chastity belt and stood up sharply. "What the hell is that?"

 

"What do you think it is? It's to stop perverts like you from doing what you're trying to do." The words were reminiscent of my altercation with Noel and the memory of that evening gave me another idea.

 

"What do I think it is? I think it is all that is hiding your secret now." He rubbed his hands together. "Yes, that's it. You wouldn't want anyone to see what you've got under there, so you hide it away."

 

"Don't be so stupid," I said. "It's to stop me from being raped. Do you remember that night in Kent when Noel assaulted me?"

 

He nodded. "So?"

 

I hesitated and in a small voice said, "He almost raped me that night. He ripped my clothes off and" I shuddered, and it wasn't put on. "He was about to rape me when Jon heard my screams and burst in just in time." I looked up at Simon with real tears in my eyes. "Since then, I've been paranoid about being raped. I know I may be messed up, but I've worn this protection ever since." That was another lie, but he wasn't to know it.

 

He looked really thrown. "No way," he muttered. "No, it can't be." He paced again and then whirled round. He shouted in my face, "You're lying."

 

I looked away. "Give it a rest, Simon."

 

He stood in front of me. "Alright, prove it then. Open it and take it off."

 

I looked up at him and laughed hollowly. "Oh yes, like I'm going to give a potential rapist the key? Get real."

 

He grabbed my face in one hand and squeezed tightly. "Where's the key you dumb-ass little bitch?" he snarled right in front of my face. He shook me roughly and released me.

 

I swallowed hard. "I don't carry it in my purse or bag. Look for yourself. It's back with my luggage at the lodge. Why don't you take me back there and I'll be sure to get it out for you."

 

He slapped me viciously across the face and I winced with the pain. "You're going to regret trying to make a fool out of me. By the time I'm done with you" He didn't finish his sentence.

 

I sat there petrified and another wild idea came to me. "Simon," I began gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He turned back to me and was listening. "Please don't hurt me. I mean, it's not just me I'm worried about."

 

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

 

I looked down at the floor and paused. I looked back up and, with tears streaming down my cheeks, murmured, "I'm pregnant."

 

"Bullshit!" he spat.

 

I looked away again and didn't say anything.

 

"That's bullshit," he repeated, but not as forcefully. "How can you be pregnant?"

 

I looked up at him and coldly said, "Do you want a biology lesson?"

 

He slapped me hard across the face again and I couldn't stop myself from crying.

 

"Who's the father then?" he asked.

 

"None of your business," I spat defiantly.

 

He raised his hand again and I cowered. "Please, don't hit me."

 

"Who's the father?"

 

I didn't look him in the eye, but murmured, "Charlie."

 

He laughed. "The new boyfriend? Bullshit!"

 

I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes. "He doesn't know yet. Why do you think I was so moody and irritable the last few weeks? I missed my period just before we left for America." I paused. "I bought a pregnancy test and it was positive." I chewed my lip and let the tears flow freely. "I haven't told anyone I don't know what to do."

 

He stood there speechless. He clenched and unclenched his fists again. "I don't believe you," he said. His voice was nowhere near as assured as before. "I don't believe you. You're lying."

 

I shrugged and cried. "Whatever," I said between sobs. "I'm tired, I'm sore and I'm scared. Please, let me go."

 

He ran a hand through his hair, which only served to make him look crazier. "Pregnant, huh? Alright, let's play along for a moment. If you're pregnant, you won't mind taking another pregnancy test, will you?"

 

I shook my head. "If that's what it takes to make you give up this madness."

 

"Right, that's what we'll do," he said with grim determination.

 

I looked up at him. "You have a pregnancy test with you?"

 

He laughed mirthlessly. "Well gee honey, I'm fresh out of them. No, I'll go and get one from the I'll go and get one." He looked out the window where it was getting dark. "Shit, it's too late today. If you're lying to me"

 

"I'm not," I said sullenly.

 

He opened the door and, before going out, turned saying, "Don't go anywhere." He laughed harshly.

 

 

----------*----------

 

After a while I called out, "Anyone, please?"

 

One of the guys opened the door, "Whaddya want?"

 

"I need to use the bathroom," I said meekly.

 

They uncuffed me and took me to a dank little bathroom. They refused to give me the privacy of closing the door. I was careful in the way I sat to try to preserve as much dignity as possible. When finished, I protested that I was hungry and they gave me some bread, chocolate and water. I gobbled it down. I was taken back to the room I was being kept in and they were about to cuff me to the chair again.

 

"Please," I said softly, "I'm so tired. The chair is really uncomfortable."

 

There was a discussion between two of them and eventually one persuaded the other that I wasn't being unreasonable. A dirty mattress was brought in and thrown to the floor. They kicked it to one corner of the room where some pipes descended from the ceiling down to the floor. I was told to lie on the mattress and they cuffed my hands around the pipes. I was then left alone in darkness.

 

The tension of my encounter with Simon had left me drained. I sobbed with self-pity and fear at my awful situation. I didn't know what Simon was planning, but I was sure that delaying him as long as possible was in my best interests. How would I get out of this? How could anyone find me?

 

In the darkness, I did something that I hadn't done for a long time: I prayed.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Someone shaking me the next morning woke me. It was the youngest-looking of the men that were guarding me. I think I'd heard someone call him Wayne.

 

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked. He wasn't quite as harsh as the others.

 

I forced myself to smile and nodded. "Please. Can I use the bathroom first?"

 

He un-cuffed me and took me to the bathroom. Then I was given a bowl of oatmeal and some milk to drink before being shut up in my room again. I asked to be allowed to sit on the mattress again and Joe, who was taking me back in, grudgingly agreed.

 

There had been no sign of Simon and I presumed that he had gone to get a pregnancy test. I was left alone for several hours and had plenty of time to think. It is funny how in extreme situations the mind can evaluate the rest of one's life with more perceptiveness than in the ordinary routine of daily business. I thought back over the past year and a bit. I considered all that had happened and I began to come to several conclusions. I thought I had been fairly sure of what I was doing, but the time alone in the darkness afforded me an opportunity to think again. When I reflected on my recent actions, I decided that I didnt really like parts of the person that I had become. Did this mean I didnt like being Cara or Nicola? I wasnt sure I could say that. I certainly didnt like the way I had been acting towards others. It was as if I was only seeing it clearly for the first time.

 

My mind turned to my father and I could feel the tears trickling down my cheeks. In the face of possible harm or even death, I re-evaluated the way we had drifted apart. I had always been happy to lay the blame squarely at his door. I mean, he was the one who had rejected me. On balance, however, I realised that I was not without fault. I had known that my father would not be favourable towards my transition, but I had steamed ahead relentlessly without giving much thought to how he saw things. I thought of Jon and was again overcome with emotion. Although we were close, we had not been communicating clearly for a long time. There was so much that had gone unsaid.

 

These were loose ends that I had to deal with. If I ever got out of this mess, my mind added. Perhaps that was an explanation for this clarity of thought. The mind needs to cling to something else outside the horrific circumstances that one is caught up in. I had done some serious hard thinking and made several resolutions to tidy up the things that I had been ignoring if I got out of this situation alive.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

From the light that was just beginning to drop ever so slightly, I judged that it was mid afternoon by the time I heard a car outside. I listened carefully and heard Simon curse as he entered the building. He was complaining about the weather and the road conditions. Apparently it had snowed heavily the previous night.

 

I didn't have long to wait before he came into my room.

 

"Comfy?" he asked sarcastically.

 

I shrugged. "I'm OK. Thanks for asking."

 

He sneered. "Yeah, I'm all heart." He held up a white paper bag. "Guess what I've brought for you?"

 

I didn't answer him. He opened the bag and brought out a standard pregnancy test. He got one of the men to un-cuff me and he threw the little package at me. "You know what to do with it?" he asked.

 

I shrugged. "I need to go to the bathroom."

 

I was escorted and again not permitted the dignity of privacy. I held the little pack beneath me as I managed to urinate on it. Simon grabbed it from me as soon as I was finished. It was as if he feared I would somehow manipulate or contaminate it. I was taken back to my room and he waited with me. He stared at the test. It had to be read after five minutes. I sat there and my heart was pounding within me.

 

He checked his watch again and then looked at the little package. His eyes narrowed and he looked at it even closer.

 

"Well?" I asked breathlessly.

 

He looked up at me and seemed confused. "It's positive," he said glumly.

 

I tried not to make my sigh of relief evident. I said a silent thanks to Dr. Carson. When she had explained the results of my blood hormones to me, she had made a throwaway remark about one of them. Apparently I had a slightly elevated level of a hormone called beta HCG or something. She said it was rare, but not unheard of in my condition. She had winked and laughed as she told me not to take any pregnancy tests as I might give myself a scare. Her little joke to me had saved me, for now.

 

"How can it be positive?" he asked.

 

I stared at him. "Can't you figure it out? I'm pregnant, like I said."

 

He slowly shook his head and looked to be deep in thought. "I don't know"

 

I sighed. "You want to get another one and try the test again? I'm happy to pee on a dozen of them if that will satisfy you? Now can we cut the crap and would you please let me go?"

 

He looked up and frowned. "Let you go? I can't do that now."

 

"What are you hoping to achieve, Simon?" I asked with frustration.

 

He looked melancholic. "I was so sure"

 

I asked softly, "Why were you doing this?"

 

I wasn't sure if he heard me, but he started speaking nonetheless, "I used to be in business for myself, you know, but wasn't too successful." He shrugged. "I found that dealing in less than legal items was more profitable." He paused and I wondered if he was finished. He started again. "I got busted. Few years inside. Shrink assessments." He grimaced and paused again. "I got out and once I ditched the meds, I was more myself again. New name, new background and I was good to go. I always fancied myself in the music business. When you're making up your own rsum, it's not too hard to get a job. Keeping it is harder." He sighed. "I was on the ropes until you came along. Things were looking up then." He looked at me for the first time since he had started speaking. "I thought it was all going to go down the pan because your secret was going to ruin everything. I was going to go down with you." He slapped his fist into his other palm. "I couldn't let that happen."

 

He looked so pathetic sitting there that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

 

"What did you hope to achieve by this?" I prompted.

 

He shrugged and looked away again. "I thought if I proved that my suspicions were right, I could prevent it from becoming public knowledge and avoid the scandal. Keep my reputation and job intact."

 

"How would you have done that?"

 

He looked at me sadly. "It was going to be a permanent solution."

 

His words stung me and I didn't know what to say. Eventually I gasped, "Why?"

 

He grinned. "Look at Eva Cassidy. Her departure didn't affect her sales. Well it did actually. She's sold far more since"

 

My eyes widened. "How did you think you would get away with it? Surely you knew you'd be implicated."

 

He laughed. His confidence was returning. He looked back over to me and smirked. "Oh that's the clever bit. As you might have guessed, your little friend Aaron is probably currently behind bars, suspected of masterminding this little affair. Getting his prints on the note was easy. I was getting him to autograph loads of sheets. I used one for the note. The song lyric was a risk, but I felt sure you or Jon would get it."

 

I frowned. "What about the words Aaron said to me the previous night?"

 

He laughed. "I couldn't believe it when you told me. Pure coincidence, but it worked like magic."

 

I shook my head. "It doesn't explain how you thought you would get away with it. Surely people must be wondering where you are at present?"

 

He grinned. "They would check my hotel room and find it trashed. They would find some of my blood on the carpet." He showed me a little wound on the palm of his hand. "Self-inflicted of course. They would also find prints from our beloved Mr. Kramer on some items in my room."

 

"How?" I asked with incredulity.

 

He chuckled. "Simple. All American hotel rooms are boringly similar. The same lamps, desktop items and so on. One of my associates slipped into Aaron's room and swapped a few items with my room. Hey Presto!"

 

"That doesn't explain everything."

 

He nodded. "No, but when the ransom note arrived at Sony this morning asking for five million dollars for the release of Cara Malone and Simon Andrews, that would go a long way to explaining it."

 

My eyes goggled. "You're" I couldn't find the words.

 

"Brilliant?" he offered. He waved a hand deprecatingly. "That's not the best part. Of course, how would we get the ransom money? Well we wouldn't. It's a diversion. I would happen to make a valiant 'escape' from my captors. Of course I'd have to ask our friends outside to rough me up convincingly. I'd crawl out of the forest to the nearest town and go straight to the police. I'd tell them about how I was brutally kidnapped. I'd tell them to hurry so they could catch the kidnappers and save my poor friend, Cara." He paused and smiled cruelly. "But they'd be too late. When they got to the cabin, the kidnappers would be long gone and all they would find would be" He shrugged. "I'm sure you can work it out."

 

I shivered and found myself pushing back towards the wall behind me. "You're sick," I said in a shaking voice.

 

He nodded. "Probably. Anyway, I'd be a hero and would return to work where I'd continue my handsome commission on the blistering sales of our dearly departed. I'd commiserate with her friends; put a hand on poor Jon's shoulder and tell him how brave his dear friend had been"

 

"Bastard," I hissed. "You're twisted."

 

He chuckled. "And your secret would have died with you."

 

I shook my head. "Pity you had it wrong all along."

 

His eyes narrowed and he looked at me calculatingly. "I don't know about that."

 

"What do we do now, Simon?" I asked.

 

He smiled. "What can we do? The plan can't be changed, can it?"

 

I looked at him with horror. He laughed. "There's only one way out of this, but I'm still curious and want to make sure of something for myself." He stood up and mused. "I wish I'd bought a cutting drill in the village earlier today." He looked down at me and pointed. "That belt of yours is coming off. First thing tomorrow, I'm going to the nearest hardware store and then we'll open Pandora's box." He laughed harshly.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Later that evening, Simon came back in with all of the other men.

 

"What do you want?" I asked suspiciously as I looked around at all of them.

 

Simon grinned. "I've just told them my theory about your past life. What do you think boys?"

 

Joe looked at me and shook his head. "No way, boss. She's a chick."

 

The others agreed and Simon laughed. "Why don't we check the evidence that is available to us?"

 

He gestured for them to pick me up and un-cuff me.

 

"What are you doing?" I asked in a tremulous voice.

 

"Take her top off," Simon ordered.

 

"Get off me," I screamed as I struggled with them. They were too strong for me and they pulled off my sweatshirt. I tried to cover my bra and breasts with my arms, but they pulled them aside.

 

"What do you think boys?" Simon asked obviously enjoying the spectacle.

 

"Nice pair," one murmured.

 

"Get a closer look," Simon urged. "Take off her bra."

 

"No, please, leave me alone," I sobbed.

 

One of them roughly pulled my bra off and again my arms were pulled away. There was a chorus of appreciative whistles.

 

"Do they look real, boys?" Simon asked.

 

"Hell, yeah," one of them said.

 

"But do they feel real?" Simon goaded.

 

"Please, don't do this," I cried.

 

Several hands started to feel over my breasts and I closed my eyes and tried to fight the rising nausea. I felt violated and almost wished that I could die. I opened my eyes again and noticed that Wayne, the younger one, was standing back and not taking part.

 

"Right, that's enough for now," Simon jovially called out. "After I finish up with her tomorrow, there can be plenty more of that. Don't bother putting her bra back on, she won't be needing it again."

 

I quickly pulled my sweatshirt back on and looked at Simon with pure hatred. "I hope you burn in hell, you bastard."

 

He laughed and shrugged it off. The men cuffed me to the pipes again and I was left alone. I cried uncontrollably in the darkness.

 

"God, if you're there, please help me. I know I haven't been the person I should have, but please help me," I prayed softly.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Early the next morning, I heard a commotion and sounds of digging. Apparently the men were digging the car out, as there had been more snow. Eventually I heard it drive off. Wayne brought me in some breakfast and I received it thankfully.

 

After lunch, there was still no sign of Simon returning. I realised that I had to try to do something or events were going to overtake me.

 

"I need the bathroom, please." I called out.

 

Wayne came in and un-cuffed me. He led me out of the room.

 

I looked around. "Where is everyone?"

 

He shrugged. "Simon took Mike and Vic with him to help dig away any snowdrifts on the road."

 

"Where's Joe?" I asked casually.

 

"Having a nap."

 

Wayne stood at the entrance to the bathroom. I took a deep breath and smiled up at him. "Wayne, would you mind just closing the door for a moment." I paused and looked down. "After last night, I just feel like I need some privacy."

 

He hesitated and frowned. "I dunno" He sighed. "I guess it's OK. I'm gonna be right outside, ya know."

 

I nodded and smiled gratefully as he closed the door over. Immediately I went over to the window. There was a board nailed over it, as the glass had obviously been broken a long time ago. The previous day I had noticed a tiny shard of glass remaining at one side of the frame. I reached out and began to pull at it. It began to loosen a little but I couldn't get it out.

 

"You nearly done in there?" Wayne called as he banged softly on the door.

 

"Nearly, be out in a moment," I called back.

 

I frantically pulled and yanked at the shard of glass. It was giving slowly, but not fast enough.

 

There was another knock at the door. "I think I should open the door again"

 

Finally the glass came free from the frame and I realised that I had cut my finger. I secreted it in the palm of my hand, flushed the toilet and opened the door.

 

"Sorry," I smiled at Wayne, "I had to do you know."

 

He grinned awkwardly. I stepped out and then stopped. He looked at me, "What's wrong?"

 

"Can I ask you something, Wayne?"

 

He shrugged. "Sure."

 

I looked down and then looked up at him feigning shyness. "Last night, you weren't like the other guys. You didn't touch me."

 

He gave a half-smile and inclined his head. "Naw."

 

"Why not?"

 

He shrugged. "Dunno, just didn't seem right."

 

I smiled and blinked a few times. "Do you think I'm attractive?"

 

He laughed and nodded. "Sure y'are."

 

I was about to gamble on the typical male impulse and took a breath. I smiled sweetly at him. "I'm glad it's you looking after me today, Wayne."

 

I noticed him flush a little. I continued, "You're different from the others. It's like you care."

 

I watched him carefully. So far so good. I smiled shyly and started to slip up my top. "Would you like to touch me now?" It sounded so awful and I expected him to march me straight back to my room. His eyes, however, were fixed on my now exposed breasts.

 

"Do you like what you see?" I asked softly.

 

"Hell, yeah," he said sounding almost breathless.

 

"Go ahead, touch them. It's just you and me."

 

He gingerly reached out and touched my breasts. I forced myself not to flinch. "Mmm, that feels so good Wayne."

 

I put a finger below his chin and lifted his face up to look at mine. I leaned forward and gently kissed him. Then with a sudden stab, I rammed the shard of glass into the side of his neck and kneed him in the groin with all the force I could muster.

 

"Shit," he cursed as he fell to the floor. One hand clutched at his neck, which was spurting blood, and the other cradled his groin.

 

"Sorry, Wayne," I murmured coldly as I reached down and pulled the gun from the back of his waistband.

 

I ran to the kitchen and pulled at the back door. It was locked. "Crap," I muttered. I looked around for a key, but saw none. I heard movement from the other room and Joe's voice. I looked around frantically and saw another door. I pulled it open and saw stairs leading down into darkness. A cellar of some kind. I threw the switch beside the door, which illuminated the darkness below. I closed the door softly behind me and descended the stairs. Each light bulb that I walked under, I smashed with the butt of the gun. I did this until I was at the far side of the large basement. As I smashed the last one, the room was plunged into darkness and I gingerly felt my way to the back wall. I had no idea what I was going to do and I sat down and shivered. It was damp and cold.

 

Before long, I heard the door in the kitchen above open. There was a faint hint of light coming down from above. I heard the light switch being thrown a few times.

 

"Shit, the lights are off," said Joe.

 

"The bitch," I heard a rasping voice that I presumed belonged to Wayne.

 

I heard footsteps slowly descending the stairs.

 

"Get out or I'll kill you," I screamed.

 

The footsteps continued. I held the gun out in the direction of the sounds and braced myself. I closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger. The sound was deafening and the recoil forced me back against the wall.

 

"Shit," I heard a voice murmur and it sounded like someone hurrying back up the stairs. The door at the top closed and I was left in silence and darkness.

 

I couldn't be sure that I was really alone and I strained to hear any sound. All I heard was a faint dripping of moisture and some creaking from floorboards above.

 

I could do nothing but wait.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

A few hours later, I heard the faint rumble of a car engine. It was the others arriving back no doubt. By now, I was shivering so much that it was hard to concentrate on listening. My senses were heightened and I felt so edgy that I thought I was going to be sick.

 

There were sounds of raised voices above and shortly afterwards I heard the door open again. There were no sounds of footsteps.

 

"Nicola?" It was Simon's voice.

 

I didn't answer. He spoke gently, "Nicola, come on out. Let's sort this out. I'm sure we can work out another way out of this mess. Come on up and I promise you'll not be harmed."

 

"Go to hell," I screamed.

 

"Come on, you can't stay down there forever, can you?"

 

It wasn't a pleasant thought. "Why don't you come down and get me?" I called out.

 

He laughed. "I might just."

 

I heard low voices murmuring but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Some voices were raised and I could make out the occasional word. "not going downcrazy bitch"

 

The door was closed again and I was left alone with my fears once more.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

After a short period of time, I heard a lot of commotion above me. Feet were scurrying around and then I heard what had to be gunshots. I had no idea what was going on and certainly didn't plan on going up to find out. For all I knew it was a ruse to get me to come up. I thought I heard the door open briefly, but nothing came of it.

 

The gunfire continued above and then I heard muffled bangs. I had no idea what caused it and was totally confused. I resolved to simply sit and wait. Eventually the noise ceased and there was no more shooting. I had a terrible compulsion to leave the basement and try to make an escape, but I quelled the feeling and tried to remain calm.

 

I heard the door open from the kitchen and a voice called out. "Miss Malone, are you down there?"

 

The voice wasn't familiar, but I was too scared to reply.

 

It called again. "Miss Malone, are you there? This is the FBI."

 

"Bullshit," I called out. I thought it was a trick. They were trying to trick me into coming out.

 

"Ma'am, my name is Special Agent Goddard with the Hostage Rescue Team. I'm going to come down to you."

 

"Bullshit," I called again. "I'll kill anyone who comes down." I must have sounded quite hysterical.

 

"Ma'am I know you've been through a terrible ordeal, but it's over now. Listen, I'm going to walk to the bottom of the stairs and switch on a flashlight. The light will be aimed at myself so you can see who I am. Don't shoot me."

 

I peered into the darkness and heard slow footsteps descending. They stopped and I saw a light go on. It illuminated a figure wearing a black jumpsuit and helmet. "Can you see me, ma'am?" the voice called.

 

"Yes, but how do I know you're telling me the truth?"

 

A pause. "I'm going to throw my FBI I.D. towards you. I can hear where your voice is coming from. Is that alright?"

 

"OK," I said reluctantly. "Ouch," I exclaimed as something soft hit me in the chest. It didn't really hurt, but it had surprised me. I began to realise that if he was that good a shot with his I.D. badge, he could easily have killed me already. I fingered the badge and it seemed to be what he said it was, but I couldn't see it clearly.

 

"I can't read it, it's too dark," I called out.

 

"I've got a little flashlight. I'm going to throw it to you. I'm sorry if it hits you, but it shouldn't hurt you."

 

Not surprisingly, the torch hit me in the chest a moment later. It didn't hurt, as it was only a pencil flashlight. I realised that turning the light on would give away my position. I foolishly remembered that the man seemed to know exactly where I was anyway. I turned the light on and looked at the badge. It looked authentic and identified the bearer as Special Agent Goddard.

 

I sighed audibly. "I can read it," I called out weakly.

 

"May I come to where you are?"

 

"Please," I replied. I collapsed back against the wall.

 

A figure appeared beside me. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

 

"I I think so."

 

"Are you injured?"

 

"No."

 

"Can I take the gun from you?"

 

I realised that the gun was still firmly clasped in my hand. I opened my fingers and let him take it from my grasp. He put an arm around me and I shivered uncontrollably.

 

"It's alright, ma'am, it's all over. Let's get you upstairs."

 

He gently helped me to my feet and we started to walk slowly. "Are you sure it's all over?" I asked tentatively.

 

"Yes. Those men won't be bothering you again. They're dead. All four of them."

 

I froze on the spot. "What do you mean four?" I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. "There were five of them including Simon."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 44

 

 

Agent Goddard turned to me in the semi-darkness and said, "Are you sure"

 

He never got to finish his question. His body stiffened and then there was a deafening crack that could only have been a gunshot. He crumpled to the floor and I screamed hysterically. A hand grabbed me from behind and another clamped over my mouth. I tried to bite it, but it was heavily gloved. I tried to kick and struggle, but my captor held me tightly.

 

"Stop fighting, you dumb bitch," Simon's voice whispered harshly in my ear.

 

I felt like throwing up or fainting perhaps both. I looked down at the agent's body on the ground. It appeared lifeless, unmoving. There was a crackle from the agent's radio. Simon pulled me roughly to my knees so he could grab the radio. He put the earpiece into his own ear and held the microphone to his lips.

 

"Listen up you shitheads! Anyone comes down those stairs and the bitch dies. If I so much as hear a fart up there, I'm going to waste her without a second thought. Understand?"

 

I couldn't hear the reply, but whatever was said irritated Simon. "Don't talk to me, just listen!" he shouted. He paused and then continued in a more even tone, "I'll get back to you when I've decided how we're going to play this. Any of your fancy flash bangs or any canisters rolling down those stairs and you'll have a dead slut to clear up down here."

 

I was breathing hard and fast as I tried to suck enough air in through my nose to keep myself conscious. Simon still covered my mouth and with his other hand, he jabbed his gun hard against my neck. He whispered harshly, "Any funny business from you and I'll just blow your head off right here, right now. Understand?"

 

I was too scared to reply but he forced the gun harder against my neck and snarled, "I said, do you understand?"

 

I nodded and tried to choke back the rising bile in my throat. He forced me to move further back into the basement. I could barely see where I was going and nearly tripped on a few occasions. "Stay on your feet, you stupid bitch," he growled.

 

When we reached the far wall, Simon dragged me with him as he felt his way along it. He sighed with what sounded like satisfaction and turned a handle. I felt a draught and realised that he must have opened a door. He roughly urged me forwards. I couldn't see where I was going and banged my head on something. I winced and tried to groan. He pushed my head down and moved me forwards. It was a tunnel of some sort and I began to feel a real sense of dread at what lay ahead.

 

We walked for about five minutes. It was interspersed with Simon cursing into the radio telling them that he was trying to think and would talk to them when he had decided what he wanted. I felt a sinking feeling within me. The FBI agents would be waiting in the cabin thinking that Simon and I were in the basement when, in reality, he was leading me away from them. I presumed that there had to be some sort of back entrance to this tunnel. Simon seemed to know where he was going. He had taken his hand from over my mouth.

 

He was regaining his confidence. "Wasn't it kind of the survivalists who built this cabin to give free reign to their paranoia? Their paranoia in building this little escape route is going to save us. Well, actually I mean it's going to save me."

 

"Simon, give it up, why don't you just stop this. It's over."

 

He laughed harshly. "Oh it's far from over. Even if I don't make it and you somehow survive, it's not over then."

 

I didn't want to ask, but his words needled me. "What do you mean?"

 

He chuckled to himself. "There are certain sealed papers with a solicitor back home, who shall of course remain nameless. He has been instructed that if he never hears from me again, then he is to send said papers to a certain tabloid journalist in nine months' time. So what if the story those papers tell is not true. You'll be ruined irrespective of the truth of the matter."

 

I shivered and it wasn't just due to the chill of the dank air in the tunnel. "Why nine months?"

 

He sniggered. "Because if I don't make it through this, I want you to go through hell for your last few months of precious fame before the shit hits the fan."

 

Before we had gone too much further, I began to feel colder and the wind in the tunnel felt stronger. We emerged into what seemed to be some sort of open-sided shack. There was a pickup truck partially covered by a tarpaulin. It was pitch dark outside now and was snowing heavily. The snow was drifting into the shack. I shivered from the cold as I was only wearing only a light sweatshirt and jeans.

 

"Why, Simon? Why do this to me? Why do you hate me so?" I implored.

 

He didn't answer for a moment and I persisted. "Why do you want to kill me? Why do you want to make my life hell even if I do survive? I want to understand. I have the right to know."

 

He suddenly hit me across the face with the butt of the gun. I fell to the ground with a cry and tasted blood in my mouth. I looked up at him in the gloom and saw him standing over me, the gun pointed directly at me.

 

He spoke harshly, "You want to know? Fine. I want to make your life end or make it so hellish that you'll wish it was over because of what you've put me through this last year."

 

"What are you talking about?" I cried.

 

He spoke in a quieter yet more uneven voice, "Because I wanted you. Yes, I wanted you so bad like you have no idea."

 

I swallowed hard and was stunned by his words.

 

He laughed. "Surprised? I bet you are. Flattered? Perhaps not. You see that alone was bearable, but when I began to follow my suspicions and thought that you used to be a man do you know what troubled me more?"

 

I couldn't find any words and just shook my head fearfully.

 

He leaned down over me and in a ragged whisper said, "Because I still wanted you. God, how I longed to have you and it made me sick."

 

He stood back up and shook his head. "That's why it has to end. I'm sorry."

 

He spread his feet apart and pointed the gun at my head.

 

"Simon, wait!" I cried out in fear.

 

"What is it now?" he asked exasperatedly.

 

"I lied to you before." I tried to pique his interest. Anything to stop him shooting me.

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"You were right."

 

"About what?"

 

I sighed. "You were right about everything. All that you suspected and found out was true."

 

He cursed under his breath. "I knew it. I knew it you lying bitch! What about that pregnancy test?"

 

I cowered below him. "It it was just a ruse to distract you. I have some hormonal imbalance that caused the test to be falsely positive."

 

The words that he called me were coarse and filthy. He spat a tirade of hate at me. "You think you're so clever? You think you're so smart because you tricked me twice? We'll see who's smart now."

 

In a rage, he pulled his foot back and kicked me viciously in the stomach. I felt the breath being squeezed out of me by the agonising pain in my abdomen. I tried to breathe in again, but couldn't seem to find any air. I retched and clutched my midriff as I lay on the ground. My vision was starry and I thought that I was going to pass out.

 

"That's it," he said with grim determination. "Enough. It's time to end this." He again stood over me and aimed the gun at my head. I wanted to close my eyes, but I forced myself to meet his cruel gaze.

 

Though I was prepared for it, the gunshot still shocked me when it came.

 

Simon's head seemed to explode and I was showered with blood and other things that I didn't want to think about. For a split second my mind froze and then I just started to scream uncontrollably. I was still lying on the ground in the foetal position. I was aware of shadowy figures with guns rushing into the shack and checking all around it. One man bent down beside me and was speaking to me, but I couldn't focus on what he was saying. He gently lifted me to a seated position and put an arm round me. Eventually I stopped screaming and just sobbed freely.

 

"Shush, it's OK. It's over now," the man kept saying repeatedly.

 

I managed to regain some control over myself and stared at him blankly.

 

"Miss Malone?" he asked.

 

I nodded slowly.

 

"I'm Special Agent Mackey. You're safe now. I'm sorry we took so long to get to you, but it's all over. Can you understand me?"

 

I nodded again.

 

I saw the flash of teeth in the semi-darkness as he smiled. "Good. Now we're going to get you out of here and back to comfort and warmth." I suddenly realised just how cold I was. He noticed and said something to one of the other men nearby. Agent Mackey was handed a coat and he gently helped me to slip it on. A hat and gloves followed. I was still shivering and I thought I'd never feel warm again.

 

"Can you stand?" he asked softly.

 

I shrugged. "I don't know," I said weakly.

 

He helped me to my feet and held me tightly. I turned to look down at Simon's body on the ground; however, Agent Mackey gently but firmly led me away from it.

 

"There's a helicopter above us that will try to descend to hover just overhead if there is a break in the weather. It's going to drop down a harness and will lift both you and me up into it. Then we're going straight back to Seattle. Do you understand?"

 

I nodded. I was given a cup of something to drink. It was steaming hot chocolate. Initially my stomach recoiled, but I took small sips and could feel the warm liquid within me as I drank it. After about ten minutes, I heard the sound of rotors beating overhead and I was led outside. The snow had eased off and the helicopter was visible above us. Agent Mackey helped me over to where a harness had been dropped. He strapped me into it and then did the same for himself. After checking that we were secure, he put his arms around me and then said something into his mouthpiece. We began to ascend and I felt the wind whipping against my face. We were pulled into the helicopter by strong arms and I was placed in a seat and strapped in. The door closed and the helicopter began to move up and away.

 

I sat there feeling strangely numb as I vacantly stared out of the window. I made no effort to talk and no one said anything to me except for occasionally asking if I was alright. I just nodded in response.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The helicopter took us back to Seattle and landed on top of a hospital. I was taken down to the emergency room and examined by a doctor. It felt like a dream, as if I weren't really there. X-rays were taken of my face and were pronounced normal. I was apparently given the all clear as the agents led me from the building to where a car was waiting.

 

We were driven to police headquarters and I was taken to an upper floor in an elevator. When I stepped out of the elevator, I was led down a corridor and into a waiting room.

 

As soon as I entered, several people jumped to their feet. Two women rushed towards me and wrapped their arms around me. It was Claire and Jools.

 

"Oh my God, oh my God," Claire cried, "Are you alright? Oh God."

 

Jools didn't say anything. There were tears streaming down her face. For the first time since the encounter on the mountainside, I actually felt in control of my body.

 

"I'm OK," I murmured. "I'm alright."

 

Claire broke the hug and looked at me. "Your face? You've been hit are you hurt?"

 

I shrugged. When I thought about it, it did hurt, but it didn't seem to be that relevant. I sensed another person standing nearby and turned.

 

"Hey you," Jon said softly. He gave a half-smile and moved in to embrace me.

 

I hugged him tight and didn't say anything. He held me for at least a minute before letting go of me.

 

Claire took my hand. "Nicola, there's someone else here who wants to see you."

 

"Who?" I asked.

 

She pointed me towards the far end of the waiting room. I saw a grey-haired man, looking somewhat haggard, standing there. I took a step forward and stopped. I looked at him. "Dad?"

 

He smiled a sad smile and took a step forward. He held out his arms and, after a moment's hesitation, I broke free from the others and ran towards him. I buried my face in his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around me. I felt something give within me and I began to sob. I'm sure my tears must have drenched his shirt, but he didn't release his hold on me. I became aware that he was speaking softly.

 

"Nicola, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

 

I looked up at him and he kissed my forehead. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I've been a silly old man. Are you sure you're alright?"

 

I lowered my head and turning my face sideways, leant in close against his chest again and murmured. "Yes, now I'm sure."

 

I'm not sure how long we held each other. Neither of us spoke further. We were interrupted by a discreet cough behind us.

 

We turned and saw a man in a black jumpsuit standing there. There were two men standing in the doorway behind him: one dressed in a black suit and the other in a police uniform.

 

"I'm sorry," said the man in the jumpsuit. I recognised his voice. It was Agent Mackey. "We really need to ask her a few questions."

 

"Can't it wait?" my father said with some irritation.

 

Agent Mackey smiled apologetically. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can all leave."

 

Jools interposed herself between Agent Mackey and me. "She needs a shower and clean clothes first." Her tone left Agent Mackey in no doubt that she was not in the mood for a discussion.

 

He seemed a little taken aback. "Err there is a bathroom and shower down the corridor, but I don't think we have any clothes that would"

 

He stopped as Jools held up a bag that she was carrying. "I've got everything she needs."

 

"In that case"

 

She interrupted, "all you need to do is show us to the bathroom."

 

He grinned with resignation. "Yes ma'am."

 

Claire and Jools came over to me. "Come on Nicola," Claire urged. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

 

I reluctantly let go of my father and looked up at him with concern.

 

He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry; I'll be here when you get back. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

 

I let Jools and Claire lead me to the bathroom. Once inside, they closed the door behind us. I looked in the mirror and winced. I looked as if I had been through a war. In a way, I suppose I had. My face was caked with dirt, tearstains and blood. My hair was ragged and wild looking. When I took my clothes off, I realised that I was sticky and filthy all over. I hadn't washed for

 

"What day is it?" I asked.

 

They both looked at me with concern, but Jools found her voice first. "It's Wednesday," she replied softly. I nodded. I hadn't washed for over three days.

 

They helped me into the shower and I stood under the warm jets of water for what felt like years. I managed to clean myself up and wash my hair. Jools and Claire helped me to dry myself off. I dressed in the fresh top and jeans that Jools had brought for me. I sat down and Claire brushed my hair out. We had no hairdryer so we left it wet. Jools held up some cosmetics, but I shook my head. I looked in the mirror. I was clean, but looked pale. My eyes looked haunted? I shook my head and prepared myself for what was to come.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

"Why did he do all this? What was his motivation?" The man in the black suit, Agent something-or-other, asked.

 

I had told them about how I had been kidnapped and how then I had realised that Simon was behind it all. We were in an interview room. It was probably supposed to appear informal as we were sitting in easy chairs. My father sat beside me holding my hand. The agents had wanted to talk to me alone, but he had been adamant that he was not leaving my side.

 

"He it was a mixture of things." I didn't tell them anything about how Simon had found out about my past. I had already decided that that information being withheld was not going to affect what the authorities needed to find out. "He was paranoid about my career not continuing to be successful and he had certain feelings for me."

 

They nodded to themselves as if this was what they had expected.

 

"I understand the ransom demand was a diversion and that he had no intention of trying to collect it?"

 

I nodded.

 

The agent frowned. "I hate to ask this: you were kept for three days. During this time did he or anyone else do anything to you."

 

I knew what they meant. I closed my eyes and shuddered. "I was touched." I pointed to my breasts and grimaced. I shook my head. "Nothing else though."

 

"Did they threaten anything else?"

 

I swallowed hard and tried to compose myself.

 

My father bristled. "Do you have to ask her this? She's been through enough already."

 

I put a hand on his arm. "It's OK, Dad." I turned my attention back to the agent. "They did threaten that they were going to do other things to me before Simon was going to kill me."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "He told you he was planning to kill you?"

 

I nodded. "Pretty much."

 

I saw him take a deep breath. "Why didn't they do anything to you?"

 

I thought for a moment. "I told them I was pregnant. Simon went to get a pregnancy test kit. It took him some time."

 

Apparently I had been kept captive in a cabin in the foothills of the Cascades. The nearest village was Amok, which was several miles away down a treacherous mountain road. The conditions would have made driving extremely difficult.

 

"Are you pregnant?" the agent asked hesitantly.

 

I looked at him coolly. "I'm afraid that's my own business and not relevant to your investigation."

 

He looked away for a moment. "Ah yes, I'm sorry. You're quite right. That certainly explains what delayed their plans for some of the time. However, you still weren't assaulted?"

 

I shook my head. I knew I had to tell them this next part. Having my father beside me made it even more difficult. I turned to my father and smiled weakly. He smiled back at me and put his arm around me. He spoke softly, "Just say what you have to say. Don't worry about me."

 

I nodded and turned back to the agent. "I was nearly raped back in July in the U.K. Since then, I've worn a locked belt down below for protection."

 

He looked shocked for a moment and then reasserted his professionalism. "Ah I see. So this prevented them."

 

I nodded. "Simon and some of the others went back to the village to get something to cut it off with." I shuddered again.

 

After a moment he asked, "How did you get to the basement?"

 

I told them about my ruse with Wayne. I was somewhat ashamed when I told them how I pretended to seduce him and looked guiltily at my father. To his credit, he just squeezed my shoulder and smiled encouragingly. I filled them in on the rest of the details.

 

When I had finished, the agent put down his pen. "Miss Malone, I have to say that you were incredibly brave and you're a very clever lady. Your actions undoubtedly saved you."

 

I smiled. "I don't feel very brave."

 

"One thing I haven't been able to work out though," he continued, "How does Aaron Kramer fit into all this?"

 

"Dear Lord!" I exclaimed as I raised my hand to my mouth. "I forgot about Aaron"

 

I told them about the set up and how Simon had engineered it all. Apparently Aaron was still being held in police custody.

 

The agent turned to the police officer and raised an eyebrow. The officer murmured, "Shit, there's gonna be hell to pay for this one."

 

"We'll have Mr. Kramer released immediately," the agent assured me.

 

I would later manage to talk to Aaron on the telephone and apologise for thinking that he had been involved. He said that he understood but seemed a little distant. I doubted that he would want much more to do with me.

 

After some more questions, the agent-in-charge concluded the interview. As we stood and shook hands, he said to my father, "You have a remarkable daughter, Mr. Evans."

 

I looked up to see how my father would react. He smiled. "I know."

 

He put his arm around me and we walked back to the waiting room. As I entered, I froze and felt as if I had seen a ghost. This 'ghost' stood up and said, "Hi Cara."

 

"Gareth?" I exclaimed.

 

He grinned ruefully. "In the flesh."

 

"Dear God, I thought you were dead," I said with anguish. The anguish was augmented by the fact that until that moment, I had forgotten about him again.

 

I ran to him and hugged him hard. He winced, "Ouch."

 

I released him. "What's wrong? How did you? I thought you"

 

He smiled. "I've got a fractured rib and quite severe bruising. To answer what I presume you're trying to ask, I was wearing a bullet-proof jacket."

 

"Thank God," I said. "I thought you were" I couldn't bring myself to say it.

 

"I'm not," he said gently.

 

"Why were you wearing a bullet-proof jacket?"

 

He shrugged and grinned awkwardly. "I just had a bad feeling that night." He paused. "I'm so sorry. I should never have let you be taken. I let you down."

 

"No!" I said firmly. "You could have died trying to help me. I'm just glad you're OK."

 

I hugged him again, this time more gently.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The police had taken us back to a downtown hotel. Claire and Jools took me to a two-bedroom suite that I was to share with them. My father came into the suite with us and then the two girls tactfully left us alone. I sat on a comfy chair opposite my father. I hardly knew what to say.

 

"I'm glad you're here, Dad," I finally managed.

 

His face crinkled. "Nicola, I'm sorry. I've been a fool. When I thought that I was going to lose you" He swallowed hard and rubbed his eyes.

 

I slowly got up and sat beside him on the sofa. He put an arm around me and pulled me close to him. "I've missed you," I said softly.

 

"I've missed you so much too," he admitted. "I know that I've been pigheaded and stubborn. I just wished that I could put my principles away and make up with you, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. At Christmas, I really wanted to talk to you, hug you and see how you were but I was so miffed at having the wool pulled over my eyes that I cut off my nose to spite my face. Im not saying that Ive thrown out my standards or that my beliefs are different but those same principles will not allow me to shun my child."

 

"It's OK," I said.

 

"It's not OK," he countered. "I've been wrong, but it's just been very hard."

 

I smiled at him. Dad, Ive been wrong too. Ive been so selfish that I barely took time to think about how you felt. I just carried on regardless and hardly even listened to what you had to say to me. I realise now that I need to have you in my life Im not sure if a life without you is worth that much otherwise. If it means that you want me to I couldnt bring myself to finish the sentence and I wasnt even sure if I could be true to what I was trying to say.

 

There was an awkward silence for a few moments. He looked at me and brushed some hair back from my face. "You remind me so much" he mused wistfully.

 

I smiled hesitantly. "Do I look that much like her?"

 

His face broke into a grin. "Incredibly so. When I look at you, I feel as if I've been transported back in time. You've got her eyes, her face, her hair."

 

"Is that what made it so difficult?"

 

He nodded. "I was hurting so much that any reminder of your mother was almost unbearable for me. There you were: a near-perfect embodiment of her and I couldn't deal with it. Each time I'd see you on TV or in the magazines, I'd be reminded of Esther."

"You watched me on TV?" I said with curiosity.

 

He chuckled. "Yes. I was even at St. David's Hall in Cardiff back in December, but no one ever knew about that. I arrived late and left early. You were magnificent."

 

"I had no idea" I said with amazement.

 

He shrugged. "I just couldn't get over my own stupid pride. That song you sang for your mother, the things you said" His voice trailed off and he swallowed. He found his voice and continued, "I cried. The talent you showed and the way your music reaches people you made me feel so proud of you. I wanted to stand up and shout that I was your father and that you were my daughter."

 

That did it for me and the tears started to roll out of my eyes. "Dad, I love you so much."

 

"I love you too, dear. I promise I'll always love you and never ever shut you out again." He was on the verge of tears, but managed to keep talking. "I realised that your mother lives on in you. As much as I might find it hard to understand what you've done, I knew that I had to stop running from my memories, and running from you. You are the closest thing to her that I have left."

 

Through my tears I said, "You've got Claire."

 

He grinned. "I do, but as we all know, she's got more of me in her. She's strong, determined, and I know you are too, but she's got my stubbornness." He paused. "Whereas you have the sensitivity and gentleness of your mother. When Claire got the phone call from Julie, and when she called me I knew that I couldn't lose you I just couldn't" His voice cracked and as his eyes filled up, we held each other tightly and cried together.

 

"I love you, Nicola," he said rubbing his eyes, "and I guess I've woken up to the fact that I'm a very lucky man to have two such beautiful daughters."

 

"Thanks, Dad," I said in a hoarse whisper.

 

He smiled awkwardly and dabbed his eyes with a tissue. "Now, I think I'd better head on to my own room. Those girls will want to get in here. We all could do with some sleep."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Jools and Claire did want to get back in, but none of us felt ready for sleep immediately. I knew that I should have, given how exhausted I was by the ordeal I had been through. I wanted to talk though. They wanted to listen, as they hadn't heard the full story yet.

 

I talked them through it from start to finish, this time leaving nothing out. They could hardly believe it as I told them about Simon and the things he said and did. Actually I did leave one thing out: I didn't tell them about Simon's threat about my secret being released to a journalist after nine months. That sword still hung over my head, but I needed more time to think about what I was going to do.

 

"My God," Jools said, "To think we worked with that monster all that time. He was the one behind all the notes, the yearbook did we miss something?"

 

I shook my head. "He was on the edge and he eventually went over it. I think he must have had problems and he just cracked up. Perhaps it was my fault when he found out about me, he couldn't deal with it."

 

Claire squeezed my arm so hard that it almost hurt. "No!" she said firmly. "No, no, no! If I ever hear you say that this was your fault again, I'll I don't know what I'll do, but I won't be happy."

 

I smiled and nodded. "OK, I think I get the message."

 

Jools looked puzzled. "You've told us all that happened to you, but how on earth did the FBI find you?"

 

I smiled. "Good question. That's what I wondered. Apparently when I was kidnapped, an occupant of another lodge heard Gareth's gunshot and slipped out of his cabin to see what was going on. He crept towards our lodge, but by the time he got there, all he saw was the back of the four-wheel drive that was taking me away. He did spot its licence plate number, though. The police were told, but since it was quite a remote area, it took a while for them to get there. When they found Gareth and he told them what had happened, it was too late to try and block the roads to stop the vehicle."

 

They were hanging on my every word and I noticed Jools almost scowling when I stopped to take a drink of water. "From what they told me, the FBI Hostage Rescue Team was called in when they realised it was a kidnapping, but they had no idea where I had been taken. It could have been any number of remote areas in any direction. Anyway, Simon must have been fairly pissed off when he was going to get my pregnancy test kit. I reckon it took him a long time to get to the village. He bought the test and was in such a hurry or bad mood, that he nearly crashed into another car as he left the village. The owner of the car was so incensed that he went to the local sheriff and gave him the licence plate of the vehicle. The sheriff ran it through the computer not expecting to find anything." I grinned. "I bet he got quite a shock when the FBI phoned him back and then descended on their little village."

 

"That's how they found you?" Claire asked with enthralment.

 

I shook my head. "No, they knew I was somewhere nearby, but it's such a mountainous area that they could have searched for weeks without finding me. When Simon and his men drove back to the village the next day to buy a drill to cut my belt off with, they were spotted and discreetly tailed until they turned off onto the track where the cabin was."

 

I yawned and stretched. With a cheeky grin I said, "Maybe we could finish this in the morning. I'm really tired."

 

"No way!" "Not on your life!"

 

I chuckled. "OK. At this point, I had managed to get to the basement, but I had no idea of what was going on up above. The FBI had scrambled a helicopter from Seattle and used it to drop their men in to surround the cabin. There was a lot of shooting, but they took control of the cabin and killed all of Simon's henchmen. Except Simon and I've already told you where he was."

 

Jools wrinkled her brow. "That's all very well, but did they know about the back tunnel?"

 

I shook my head. "No, but we have Simon to thank for that."

 

"Huh?"

 

"He took the radio from the agent he killed in the basement. Apparently they have some sort of tracking device in their radios so the coordinator of any situation can see where all his men are. They noticed that the tracker was moving and then realised that there must be another way out. There was thick forest behind the cabin and the weather was awful. It took them quite some time to fight their way through it. We were travelling faster and had had a head start."

 

I paused and shivered as I remembered the final events. "They got there in time though just."

 

They were sitting either side of me and both hugged me warmly.

 

Jools sat back and exhaled slowly. "Do you realise that if you hadn't pretended you were pregnant"

 

I shuddered again. "I know" I had thought about it a lot since I had learnt about what had been going on. It had seemed like a snap decision to me. I don't really know where the idea had come from, but it had just slipped into my mind. That made Simon go to the village and because of his bad mood, he got noticed. If it hadn't been for that, no one would have known where I was, no one would have come I didn't want to think through that chain of events.

 

"That's scary, isn't it?" Claire asked. "That you were saved by such coincidences."

 

I shook my head. "It wasn't just coincidence," I said firmly.

 

"What do you mean?" she asked.

 

"It was an answer to prayer." I remembered a favourite saying of my mother's: 'When I pray, coincidences happen'.

 

Jools grinned. "Whatever way you think about it, prayer or coincidence, I'm just glad that you're OK."

 

We chatted on for a bit. We thought about what we would do next and I was adamant that I wanted to go home. Jools said that she would see if she could get us on flights back to London the next evening. The FBI and police had said that I was free to leave whenever I wanted.

 

I chewed my lip. "Jools?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"I need to apologise to you"

 

"No you don't."

 

"Yes, I do. Please listen. I've been a real bitch recently and I've said and done things I'm ashamed of."

 

"Cara you don't have"

 

"Please!" I implored. "I have to sort things out. For the last few months - perhaps even longer - I've been out of control. You've been right all the way along: I was drinking too much. I know that now. I can make all the excuses about stress, fear, pressure but it doesn't change the facts." I paused, "The things I said in San Francisco I need you as a friend Jools. If you give me the choice of you being my manager or friend... I can find another manager, but I'll never find a friend like you."

 

She smiled at me and then blinked hard. "Thanks," she said softly. She blinked again and then laughed. "Come here, you! You know how much I hate to be made to cry."

 

I hugged her. "Forgive me?" I asked.

 

"Of course I do."

 

We were all thoroughly exhausted and decided it was way past time to get some sleep. After hanging a 'Do not disturb' sign on the door of the suite, we went to bed. Claire and I shared one bedroom and the bed, of course. As I lay down on the luxurious bed, I revelled in the comfort that I had been missing over the previous few days. Claire cuddled in beside me.

 

"Are you going to be OK?" she asked.

 

I lay there and looked up at the ceiling. "Definitely."

 

"Things OK between you and Dad?"

 

I smiled at her. "Better than OK, I think."

 

She grinned back at me. "I'm glad."

 

"Me too."

 

It wasn't long before sleep enfolded me in its welcome arms, but before it did I noted to myself that I had only begun to sort out the things I had planned to do. There was much more to come.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 45

 

 

I gasped as I burnt my hand. The pot handle was hotter than I had thought. I grabbed a padded oven glove and lifted the pot off the top of the cooker. I stirred it vigorously and sighed.

 

"Too thin," I murmured.

 

I added some more flour and stirred it in and then put the pot back on top of the heat. I was trying to follow my mother's old recipe for Welsh lamb stew. The concentration required had given me a bit of a headache. I stood up straight, closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. I suddenly had the sensation that someone was watching me and I turned around quickly.

 

"Daddy!" I protested. "You scared me. What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?"

 

My father was standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against one of the doorposts with his suit jacket hanging over his free arm. He chuckled. "I was just watching you working away there. How's it going?"

 

I pouted. "OK, I think. I'm sure it will taste awful though."

 

He smiled. "I doubt it." He paused. "You know you don't have to do this, don't you?"

 

"Do what?"

 

"All the things you're doing for me. The cooking, the cleaning, laundry and so on."

 

I raised an eyebrow. "Who would be doing it if I wasn't? From what I saw when I arrived here and from what Claire has said, you weren't doing too much of it yourself."

 

He grinned ruefully. "Never been much used to it, I'm afraid," he murmured.

 

My heart went out to him. My father was not a chauvinist he was just a traditional man from another generation. He had not enslaved his wife in his household; rather, she had willingly seen the home as the place she could best serve her family. Such a view is not a popular one today, but I admired my mother for what she had done. She had sacrificed her career and probably some of her personal ambitions to bring up her family in a place they could all call home.

 

I had never fully appreciated the benefits at the time: coming home each day from school to find our mother waiting for us, eager to hear the stories from our day. She would have a snack waiting for us and then would help us through our homework. So different from the generation of latchkey kids who let themselves in and could do basically whatever they wanted without anyone seeming to care what that was. OK, perhaps I'm being unfair and biased, but that's the perspective I have.

 

I walked over to him and smiled up at him. "I'm afraid I'm not too well used to it either, but I'm learning."

 

He squeezed my shoulder. "I think you're doing a fantastic job, but as I said, you don't have to. I could get someone in to do the housework." He winked. "I mean a famous rock star making lamb stew and getting flour in her hair?"

 

I laughed and brushed at my hair. "Have I really?"

 

He chuckled and gently flicked at my hair. "Here, let me."

 

"Anyway, I'm not thinking of myself as someone famous. It's been wonderful these past few weeks to just be normal. Normal is what I've needed."

 

He laughed. "Normal? You? Child, you may be a lot of things, but normal is not something that would come to the forefront of my mind."

 

I feigned a pout. "Daddy! I'm not sure what I prefer: your terrible teasing of me now or before when you wouldn't talk to me." I paused a moment and then grinned ruefully. "Actually don't believe a word of what I've just said. I know exactly what I prefer. Feel free to tease as much as you want."

 

He stood there just in front of me and smiled down at me. His eyes took on a faraway look.

 

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" I asked gently.

 

He refocused on me and then nodded slowly. "Yes, I am. Not a day goes by" He shrugged. "Time heals, but I'll never stop thinking about her. I just can't wait 'til I see her again."

 

I took his hand and squeezed it. "I know, but please tell me you aren't planning on making that trip just yet. I know that might sound selfish."

 

He smiled at me and ruffled my hair in the way that he used to do to Claire when she was younger. He knew that it annoyed her and I'm sure he had a fair idea that I felt the same way. "No, my dear, not until it's my time. I've plenty more that I want to do here and, truth be told, these past few weeks I've realised a lot more of the reasons that I have for living."

 

"Thanks, Dad."

 

He rubbed his hands together. "Now, let's check out this stew of yours, I'm starving."

 

It turned out to be much better than I had expected. This of course was not saying too much. My father said that he loved it, but then he had to, didn't he?

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Since arriving back from America, I had been adamant that I wanted to stay in Cardiff for some time. I felt as if I needed to get to know my father all over again. Claire stayed each weekend and it was great to share the feeling of family again. Jools had understood and had told me to forget completely about work. She was going to take care of anything that arose.

 

There had, of course, been intense media interest in my kidnapping. I had had no desire to face the press, so Jools had arranged a press conference when we arrived back in the U.K. and she had given them a short statement. She made it clear that I was going to be unavailable for any interviews and requested that I be given privacy to spend time with my family. So far, that had been respected.

 

Ken Johnston, the senior executive from Sony that I had met when I first signed for them had made the trip up to Cardiff to see me. He had apologised for what had happened to me. He said that Sony felt some responsibility given that Simon had been their employee. I had told him not to feel any guilt Simon was the guilty one. He assured me that Sony would do everything to support my career and to take as much time as I needed to come to terms with all that had happened.

 

Someone once said that there is no such thing as bad publicity and I could see what they meant to a degree. My ordeal had made the headlines in the U.S. and correspondingly 'Forgotten How to Love' had climbed the charts there to number twelve. 'No Half Measures' had peaked at number eight in their album chart. Jools assured me that this was the silver lining of the cloud. She then corrected herself and said that financially it was going to mean a heck of a lot more than a paltry silver lining. All this, of course, pleased me, but it didn't seem just as important as other things in my life at that time.

 

Gareth had been uneasy about leaving my side, but I felt that there was no great need for him to be with me all the time now that the obvious threat had gone. I had asked him to keep an eye on my house and he'd decided to move in to watch over it.

 

Jon had visited a couple of times during the first week that we were back. I had been happy to see him and had apologised for the things I had said in America and the way I had behaved. He had told me to forget about it. Although it had been good to spend some time with him, I felt that I needed some breathing space and time to think through things, so I had asked Jools to subtly pass this on to him. 'Jools' and 'subtly' were words that I rarely used in the same sentence, but I had to trust that she would be tactful on this occasion.

 

Being at home with my father was slightly awkward for the first week or two, but we gradually got used to one another. It really was like getting to know him all over again and I think that he felt the same way. We were redefining our relationship. The trouble before had been that although I had become Nicola, he was still trying to relate to me as a son. He had changed to relating to me as a daughter. There is a significant difference in the two relationships. I had no doubt which I preferred: the relationship between a father and daughter is closer and much gentler than that shared with a son. I could sense that my father was increasingly protective towards me and I felt a security and comfort from being with him that I had never really noticed before.

 

We had talked more in a few weeks than we had done in years. I think it was therapeutic for both of us. I was candid with him about all the changes that I had undergone in the past year or so. Whilst it was hard for him to come to terms with a lot of what I told him, he was doing his best to understand. I had even told him about what had happened between Jon and me in Yosemite. I didn't quite tell him the full extent of my feelings in that area. That was something I was still trying to work out for myself. Dad talked about Mum a lot. He shared stories from the past, most of which I had heard before but that didn't matter. He talked about the pain of his loss and the difficulties he had gone through in the months following Mum's death.

 

"It's amazing the love you two shared," I said after dinner one night as he had been telling me stories from their courtship. "I mean, a real lasting love."

 

He looked at me slyly. "I'm sure you'll find someone yourself."

 

I felt myself redden and wasn't sure what to say. "Err I don't know. Maybe, I guess."

 

It wasn't going to be Charlie. One of the first things I had done when I arrived back in Cardiff was to phone him and ask him to come and see me. He didn't take much persuading. He had obviously been worried sick about me and had thought about flying out to Seattle when Jon had phoned him to tell him about the kidnapping. He had decided not to as he wasn't sure where our relationship stood and how I would have reacted. I think he knew that things weren't as they should have been. It had been good to see him, but I knew that I had to do a difficult thing.

 

"Charlie, I really like you and I enjoy being with you"

 

"Oh God, here it comes," he had said as he forced a smile.

 

I had sighed. "Charlie, I'm really sorry, but I just don't think I love you." I paused. "When we started going out together, I wanted to give us a chance. It just hasn't worked out."

 

He had grinned and shrugged. "I was expecting this, but I'll not lie and say it means nothing to me." He smiled wanly and squeezed my hand. "You're an incredible woman, Cara, and I'm afraid I could very easily fall in love with you" He sighed. "Thanks for not leading me on under false pretences though."

 

We had embraced and I kissed him on the cheek. As he was leaving, he turned to me and said, "There's someone else in your heart, isn't there?"

 

I was quite taken aback. "Err I'm not sure."

 

He smiled knowingly. "It's Jon, isn't it?"

 

I had hesitated and then decided that he deserved the truth. "Yes, I think it is."

 

"Does he know?"

 

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

 

"He's a damn lucky guy and I hope he realises that." He hugged me one last time. "You have to tell him."

 

"I know," I murmured.

 

My father coughed deliberately. "You're miles away, Nicola. Penny for your thoughts?"

 

I brought my attention back to the present and smiled. "Oh nothing, just thinking"

 

"You love him, don't you?" my father said softly.

 

His words shocked me as much as I would have been had he slapped me across the face. "What? I I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"That boy, Jon. You love him, don't you?"

 

I looked away and couldn't meet his penetrating gaze. My face had flushed and I felt my palms getting damp. "Daddy, I don't know what to say."

 

"Nicola, dear, you can tell me the truth. Surely we've progressed beyond the stage of having to hide things from each other."

 

I looked up at him and smiled guiltily. "Yes, but that doesn't mean a girl has to tell her father everything."

 

He shrugged and winked at me. "You don't have to say it. I think it's fairly clear. The way you reacted when he came to see you. The way you look at him. I've seen it before."

 

"When?" I asked with my heart suddenly pounding in my chest.

 

He smiled strangely and quietly said, "It's the same way your mother used to look at me."

 

I swallowed hard and looked away for a moment again. "Yes."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Yes, I think I do love him." I looked over at him and screwed up my face. "Does that repulse you?"

 

He shook his head slowly and with a gentle smile said, "No, it doesn't. I've accepted that you're my daughter. What youve told me about your doctors findings has helped me to do that. I want you to be happy. I want you to find someone that you can be as happy with as I was with your mother. If that's this boy, Jon, then seize the opportunity."

 

I nodded glumly and looked at the floor as I sighed.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked gently. "How does he feel about you?"

 

I shrugged. "I don't know. That's the problem. I think the thought of a relationship with me would turn his stomach. I don't know that he could consider such a thought."

 

"Well he's a fool if that's the case. Have you told him how you feel?"

 

I shook my head. "Probably the opposite. I've given him every indication that I don't feel anything special for him."

 

My father groaned and hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Why do you women always do this?"

 

I laughed and then got serious again. "I didn't really mean to. I was trying to tell myself that I didn't feel this way."

 

"You have to tell him."

 

I grinned. "So people keep saying." I hesitated and thought for a moment. I took a deep breath. "Daddy, there's something else I have to tell you"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

My father had listened to what I had to say. We had a long and involved discussion, but he had been generally supportive of my plans. There was someone else I wanted to talk to about what I was going to do. I had been attending church each Sunday with my father and Claire. Nathan was still the assistant minister there and he had been delighted to see me again. I phoned him up and asked if I could have some of his time. He readily agreed. It was a rare clear February morning and we met for a walk in a nearby park.

 

He asked all the usual things about how I was keeping, how I was feeling. I assured him that my life was really quite good all things considered. Although I knew that I had been through something horrible, in a way I felt better now than I had done before the kidnapping. Beforehand I had been on a self-destructive path that wasn't helped by the fear of the then unknown threat. I now felt freed from that. It was like I had been given another chance.

 

We sat on a park bench and watched the mothers with their young children in the play park.

 

"You wanted to talk about something in particular, Nicola?" he gently prompted.

 

"Yes, Nathan." I paused. "During my kidnapping, I prayed." I was quiet again for a moment, but he didn't say anything. "It had been a long time since Id done anything like that." I turned and looked at him. "I think that God heard and answered my prayers."

 

"How does that make you feel?" he asked.

 

I turned to watch the kids playing again. I shrugged. "I don't really know. Pleased? Scared?"

 

"Why would you feel scared?"

 

I smiled and shook my head. "Because for the first time in my life it might actually seem as if there is someone way up there who was looking out for me."

 

Nathan was silent for a moment before speaking, "You don't know what, if anything, to do now."

 

I nodded.

 

"You wonder if you should do something about it. On the other hand, you wonder if you can just turn your back again."

 

I grinned. "You're good. Do they teach you all this in minister school?"

 

He laughed and shook his head. "Not really. I once felt much the same as you. When I started to realise that God might actually be real, I was terrified. Part of me wanted to run a mile, but another part of me had to follow it through."

 

I nodded. "That's just it."

 

"Why don't you give God a chance and see what happens?"

 

I looked away and furrowed my brow. "It's not that simple."

 

"No, but it is. That's exactly how simple it should be."

 

I looked back at him and sighed. "Nathan, there's things about me that you don't know things that I think would make it impossible for me to be accepted."

 

He put a gentle hand on my arm. "You're wrong and I mean that in the nicest way. We don't come to God because we're good enough. It's exactly the opposite."

 

I grinned ruefully. "It's not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick."

 

He nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly, that's spot on."

 

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I know all that, Nathan. I've known it up here," I tapped my head, "for as long as I can remember." I placed my hand over my heart, "It's what's in here that is having a hard time accepting it."

 

"Nicola, no matter what you've done, it's not so bad that you can't come to God."

 

I looked away and shook my head. "You don't know"

 

He gently put a hand under my chin and turned my face back towards his. "Why don't you tell me then?"

 

I laughed mirthlessly. "I'm worried that you'd hate me well not hate me, but you'd be disgusted maybe?"

 

He frowned. "Nicola, come on, do you think I'm like that, there's nothing that"

 

"I used to be a man," I said quickly.

 

That silenced him. His mouth hung open and his eyes goggled. Then he shook his head. "You're not taking this seriously." He looked at me and I looked back completely seriously. He blinked a few times. "You are being serious?"

 

I nodded. "I'm afraid so."

 

He scratched his head and gave a low whistle. "I can't believe it."

 

"Thanks," I said softly, "I'll take that as a compliment."

 

He looked at me closely as if looking for the cracks in my faade that would show him the man underneath. "Nicola are you for real? I hope I'm not stepping over the line here, but you're one of the loveliest women I've ever met."

 

I felt myself flush a little and I couldn't help but smile. "Nathan, I'm perfectly serious. Why do you think my father and I had such a rift between us after my mother died?"

 

His eyes widened again. "Wow, I suppose that would explain it. I often wondered" He hesitated. "How why?"

 

I told him a somewhat censored but reasonably accurate version of the events surrounding my transformation and my life since then.

 

He seemed almost stunned when I finished. "This is so hard for me to take in," he mused.

 

"Now you know why I feel so unsure about things with you know, God and all."

 

He sat for a moment staring out at the park before us. I wondered if he had heard what I had just said. He then snapped out of it and looked back at me. He shook his head. "I dont think it changes what I said earlier. This doesn't make any difference."

 

I winced. "Isn't this like totally against what the church teaches?"

 

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it specifically before, but it doesn't change what I know about men, women and God. There's nothing that a man or woman can do that will prevent them from coming to God if that's what they truly want. If God won't turn you away, then I sure won't and neither should any proper church."

 

I was quite surprised by what he said. "Aren't you going to tell me I have to stop perverting nature and go back to what I was meant to be?"

 

He looked intently at me. "If I said that was the case, would you do it?

 

I frowned and shrugged. I thought for a moment before replying. I dont know. Maybe. Im not sure. I mean, I want to be serious in any change I make in my life; I dont want to be a hypocrite. Im not sure if I could go back. I paused. Id like to think that maybe I would, if that was what was required but I dont know if it is physically possible.

 

He nodded slowly. I agree. What you told me about your hormonal condition is perhaps the key to my understanding of this issue. From what you said, sometimes people with this condition grow up appearing to be women to greater or lesser degrees. Your condition certainly explains how you came to be this woman I see in front of me. How on earth could I tell you that you weren't meant to be a woman? Do I define it by genes or hormones? I can't imagine you could ever look like a man again. Remember when I talked to you after your mother died?" I nodded and he continued, "I told you that things happen in this life that we may never fully understand until we look back from heaven."

 

"I remember," I said.

 

"I think you are walking living proof of that. God moves in mysterious ways, Nicola, and I believe he's moving in your life. Who am I to pretend that I fully understand it? I dont think I can tell you to do anything different."

 

I let his words sink in. I smiled at him. "You don't know what a relief it is to hear what you've said to me today. I was sure you'd want nothing to do with me."

 

He laughed and I saw him redden a little. "What's wrong?" I asked.

 

He chuckled nervously. "I think that I might want more to do with you than I should, given that I'm your spiritual counsel."

 

My eyes widened and it was my turn to blush. "Nathan I don't know what to say."

 

He grinned and shrugged. "Forget I just said that."

 

"I'm flattered, really I am." I paused. "What I've told you is obviously extremely confidential"

 

He interrupted. "You don't have to worry. You have my word that the only other person who will hear about it is God when I pray for you." He paused and grimaced. "That sounds a bit corny, doesn't it?"

 

I laughed. "Yes, I'd strike that line from your handbook if I were you."

 

"It's the thought that counts."

 

"Nathan, can I tell you what I'm planning? I'd value your opinion"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

I put my suitcase into the boot of my car and turned back to my father and Claire.

 

Claire was practically wringing her hands together. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

 

I shook my head. "I'm sure, Claire, I've thought this through and I have to do this alone."

 

"But I could come with you," she protested.

 

"No, I can't ask you to do that. You can't afford that much time off work."

 

"Who cares about that? It's not important, compared to"

 

I interrupted her gently, "Claire, I'm really touched, I am. This is just something that I have to do myself. I've other things that I need to sort out and no one can help me with them."

 

"What other things?" my father asked.

 

I shook my head. "I can't tell you yet. I'm still thinking through another problem I have to deal with."

 

My father stepped forward, opened his arms and hugged me tightly. "Well you be careful, you hear? I've just got used to having my youngest daughter around and I want to enjoy her company a lot more."

 

I buried my head against his chest so that he didn't see the moisture forming in my eyes. "Thanks, Dad," I murmured after swallowing hard. He kissed the top of my head and released his hold on me.

 

Claire hugged me next and kissed my cheek. "Keep in touch, Nicola."

 

I grinned. "I will. I'll be fine. I'm ready for this."

 

I got into my car and waved as I drove off to start my journey back to London. As I drove, I cast my mind back over the previous four weeks that I had spent in Cardiff. It had been a happy and calming time. I hadn't had a single drink of alcohol and fully planned to continue in that vein. I had done a lot of hard thinking and come to some conclusions. Several phone calls and a fair amount of Internet research had guided me to my current path.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

"So this is what I'm paying you for?" I said from the doorway of my den.

 

Gareth opened his eyes. He was reclining in a soft armchair, his legs resting on a footstool in front of him. He chuckled. "Sorry, boss, didn't hear you come in."

 

I grinned. "Your powers of alertness are most reassuring."

 

He laughed. "Hey, I'm sort of off-duty. I was running on a lower level of threat surveillance."

 

I raised an eyebrow. "Well that level would be fine assuming the threat came dancing in naked singing 'threats are here to stay'." I tried to maintain a straight face, but I couldn't hold it and started to snigger.

 

He joined in, stood up, and walked over to me. He awkwardly hugged me. "It's good to see you again, Cara."

 

I hugged him back with genuine affection. "Likewise. So how are your old ribs healing?"

 

He feigned a hurt look. "Hey, less of the old." He shrugged. "I'm doing fine. Back to one hundred percent. Not that it's been required around here. The greatest worry I've had is watching my waistline with all the fine food Mrs. Pantridge has been forcing on me."

 

"How is she?"

 

"She's grand, but I think she's planning on adopting me as a surrogate son." He grimaced.

 

"I'm sure you'll both be very happy together."

 

He waved a hand at me and laughed. "Are you back for good then? Back to work?"

 

I smiled ruefully and shook my head. "I'm afraid not. This is a bit of a flying visit. I'll be heading off somewhere early tomorrow. I've some business to take care of this evening first though."

 

"Where are you going?"

 

"What tonight or tomorrow?"

 

He shrugged. "Both."

 

"Just things that I need to take care of. Personal stuff."

 

He inclined his head. "Fair enough. I'm presuming then that you don't want me along."

 

"It's not that I don't want you to come, just that these are things I have to do myself."

 

"Will you be away for long?"

 

I nodded. "Quite a while, I imagine. I was thinking: it wouldn't be fair of me to tie you up here doing nothing for a long period of time. If you want to seek alternative employment, I'll understand."

 

He frowned. "I'm not looking for a new boss. Unless you want to let me go, I'm happy to wait until I'm needed again."

 

"I don't want to let you go at all."

 

He winked. "Besides, there's no way I could get a better looking boss."

 

I laughed and blushed. "Gareth! Doesn't that breach your professionalism?"

 

He shrugged and flashed me a crooked smile. "Sometimes my job demands that one tells their employer the truth, especially when you think they could do with the encouragement it brings."

 

I grinned. "Thanks, Gareth. I'd better shoot on now. Take care."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

I stood on the doorstep for several minutes before I could bring myself to press the doorbell. I was tempted to nip back to my car and check my appearance in a mirror, but I had spent too much time doing that before leaving home and whilst en route. I was wearing a knee-length, dark red tartan skirt over black tights I was really getting into my tartans a black roll neck top and a red woollen jacket. I knew that my make-up was perfect and my hair sitting just as I wanted; yet I felt an irrational worry about how l looked. I knew that this apparent concern about my appearance was a reflection of my deeper fears about why I was there. I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell of the ground floor flat.

 

After a long wait, it felt like an eternity but was probably only two minutes, the door opened a fraction and a face peeked out.

 

"Cara?" Jon asked.

 

I smiled. "The one and only."

 

He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

 

I raised an eyebrow. "Is this how you greet all the guests who come to your new apartment?"

 

He smiled awkwardly. "Err no. What can I do for you?"

 

"You could start by inviting me in."

 

He hesitated. "This isn't really a good time"

 

He wasn't helping my considerable nervousness. "I just need a few minutes of your time, Jon."

 

He slowly opened the door to let me enter. I noted that he was wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. I walked into his living area and he followed me in.

 

"Nice of you to dress for the occasion," I quipped.

 

He gave me a funny sort of smile. He seemed somewhat distracted, but I didn't really pick up on it at the time.

 

"Uhh you want to sit down?"

 

I nodded and took a seat. He sat down opposite me and ran a hand through his hair. "What's up?" he asked.

 

I chewed my lip and looked over at him. Part of my brain was screaming at me to jump up and run out of the room. I was sorely tempted to take that advice, but the way my heart had leapt within me on seeing him again convinced me otherwise. I had thought through all the different ways I could go about this, but in the heat of the moment all my preparations seemed pointless.

 

I looked away briefly and then looked back at him. He looked uncomfortable and puzzled. I smiled shyly and took a deep breath. "Jon, I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to come straight out with it. It's been eating me up inside and I know there's a lot of history between us, but I have to tell you" I froze and couldn't seem to continue.

 

"Cara, this really isn't a good time. Could I call over to your place tomorrow"

 

"Jon, I'm in love with you," I said quickly.

 

I thought that he was going to have a coronary or something. He stared at me with wide eyes and he visibly paled.

 

I smiled nervously and with more than a little embarrassment. "There, I said it," I murmured softly. "I'm sorry to drop this on you, but I couldn't keep it bottled up inside any longer." I looked at him and waited for him to speak, but he just looked miserable. "Aren't you going to say anything?" I asked as I winced.

 

He exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair again. "Cara, I"

 

We were both distracted by the sound of a door opening. I looked around and saw a raven-haired woman stepping out of what looked like the bedroom. She was wearing a long white shirt that probably belonged to Jon. Apart from that and her panties, she wasn't wearing anything else. That much was clearly evident, as the top few buttons on the shirt were undone.

 

"Jon, honey, what's going on?" she asked. She saw me and stopped speaking immediately.

 

I felt a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach and my face flushed. I stood up, swallowed hard and said in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry. You're right: this is obviously a bad time. I shouldn't have come." I whirled around and headed for the door.

 

Jon stood and called, "Cara, wait please"

 

I didn't wait. I flew out the front door and ran to my car. I jumped in, gunned the engine and sped off. I just about managed to reach the end of the street before the tears started.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 46

 

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Denver International Airport. We hope you've enjoyed this British Airways flight. We'd like to wish you a safe onward journey and look forward to having you aboard British Airways again in future."

 

I disembarked the plane and after the usual wait picked up my luggage. I made my way to a car rental counter and arranged to hire a four-by-four. After being shuttled to the car lot, I picked up my assigned vehicle and with a quick check of the map that I had bought in the airport, I set out on my journey.

 

Driving took all of my concentration initially. "Think right, think right," I kept murmuring to myself. Although I had been panicking about driving on the American roads, I found them to be fairly easy to navigate. I made my way to Interstate 25 and then relaxed more as I knew this would take me most of the way to my destination. I was able to think about other things than just keeping my car on the correct side of the road.

 

I hadn't slept much the previous night after coming back from Jon's place. I had felt gutted and embarrassed. There I was, baring my soul to him, only to find that not only did he not share my feelings, but also he was sharing his bed with another woman at that exact moment. I realised that I had been a fool. As I thought through it, I began to rationalise it: I had had to tell him and I'd had to find out the unpleasant truth so that I could move on for real. Looking at it positively, it was another loose end tied up. Yeah, right, if only my heart could manage to feel positive about it. I had shed tears on several occasions over the past twenty-four hours. At one point, one of the stewardesses in first class had stopped by my side and asked if I was OK.

 

It was a clear sunny March day and as I drove along the straight road with the Rocky Mountains just visible to my right, it felt like I was driving ahead to a new future. In a way, given the reason for my being there, I was.

 

I exited I-25 and made my way into Colorado Springs. I thought that was a lovely name for a town. Although it conjured up images in my mind of a small homely village, in reality it was actually a fairly large city. My heart was in my mouth as I drove through the city. A few drivers honked with irritation at the cautious way I was driving. I ignored them and focussed on not killing myself or anyone else for that matter.

 

At one point when I was stopped at a red light, the queue of traffic behind me began honking furiously. I had no idea what they were complaining about, but later learned that apparently you can turn right on a red light. Hard to believe isn't it? I always thought that red meant stop, but who was I to argue. I made my way to the hotel at which I had made reservations. Arriving there with no fatalities, I gratefully parked in the underground garage. I was shaking a little when I got out of the car, but I quickly regained my composure and checked in.

 

With the travelling and the time difference, I was exhausted. I heard Jools' voice in my mind and forced myself to stay up for as long as possible. Speaking of Jools, I had phoned her the previous night from my house. I had told her I was heading out of the country for a few weeks. Of course she wanted to know where I was going and why. I told her that I wasn't going to tell her, but that she had to trust that I knew what I was doing. She had pressed me to tell her, but she eventually realised that I had meant what I said. She had made me promise to call her.

 

I had a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant. Although my kidnapping had increased my profile in America, I had been grateful that since landing on U.S. soil, I had not been aware of anyone recognising me. None of the hotel staff showed any signs of recognition either. This anonymity was just what I wanted, especially considering what lay ahead of me. I eventually dropped into bed around nine thirty local time.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The next morning, I felt quite refreshed and after breakfast I mentally prepared myself to take to the roads again. I felt a little more confident with my driving, but it still required an exhausting amount of concentration. I followed the directions that I had been given and soon found myself in what was obviously an exclusive and no doubt horrifically expensive suburb. The houses were so far back from the road that they could hardly be seen. Several had large walls, fences and gates preventing unwanted guests from entering.

 

I pulled up before such a set of gates, opened my window and pressed the buzzer.

 

"Yes?" a metallic voice asked.

 

"My name is Nicola Evans. I think I'm expected?"

 

There was no response, but I heard a click and the gates began to slowly open. I drove up the winding drive that must have been about half a mile long. Eventually I pulled up before a large ranch-style house. It was magnificent. I got out of the car and smoothed down my white linen dress. I retrieved my black jacket from the passenger seat and slipped it on. Vanity demanded that I lean back in to check my hair and make-up in the driver's mirror before I headed to the front door.

 

I heard a musical chime from deep inside the mansion when I pressed the doorbell. The door was promptly opened by what looked like a maid.

 

"Miss Evans?" she asked in a soft American accent.

 

I nodded. "Yes."

 

"Come this way, please."

 

I followed her down a long hallway. She knocked on a door and then opened it.

 

"Dr. Barker, I have Miss Evans for you."

 

"Show her in, please," a voice said.

 

She opened the door wide and stepped aside so that I could enter. I stepped into a large study. A ruddy-complexioned, balding man stood up from behind his desk. After the maid had closed the door and left us alone, he walked around and shook my hand in a vice-like grip.

 

"Miss Evans, it's a pleasure," he said politely.

 

"Dr. Barker, thank you so much for seeing me like this."

 

He indicated that I should sit and he sat down again. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, well, you were very persistent. I don't normally see people at such short notice and hardly ever in my own home. However, you were adamant about privacy, so I couldn't imagine anywhere more private."

 

"Neither could I," I said with a smile, "you have a lovely home."

 

"Thank you," he said. He leant back in his chair. "Now what can I do for you, Miss Evans."

 

I took a deep breath and said, "I'd like to undergo sex reassignment surgery."

 

He raised an eyebrow and didn't say anything for a moment. I saw a frown briefly cloud his expression and he stared at me intently. Eventually he spoke, "Miss Evans, I'm not sure that's going to be possible." He noticed the concern on my face. "Let me explain. First, I am a professional who practices at the highest level. I am not someone who simply takes the money and does whatever is asked of me. I have to act in the best interests of my patients. What I mean by this is that I only perform such surgeries in situations where I can see that the patient is not only prepared, but also suited to undergoing such a procedure. Also the patient has to live in their new gender for at least a year before I could even consider such an option."

 

I was confused and felt my heart sinking within me. "I I don't understand," I stammered.

 

He smiled gently. "I'm sorry, Miss Evans, but I find it hard to imagine that even with extensive hormone treatment that I'd be able to recommend surgery to reassign your sex. Plus the surgery to transform a woman into a man is very difficult and often the results are not satisfactory."

 

My eyes widened and I couldn't stop myself from giving a soft laugh.

 

His eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, did I say something funny?"

 

"Dr. Barker, I don't want to be transformed into a man. I want to undergo surgery to complete my transition into a woman."

 

His eyebrows shot upwards and then he grinned and slowly shook his head. "Damn!" he said with some embarrassment. "When you've been in the business as long as I have, you like to think that you are good at spotting what's what. I usually have little difficulty in reading people, but I have to admit that I had you pegged all wrong."

 

"Thank you I think," I said.

 

He nodded. "Yes, it is a compliment. To tell you the truth, I just couldn't imagine trying to turn this beautiful woman in front of me into a man."

 

I flushed and smiled. "So does this change things?"

 

He laughed. "Yes, let's start again. I can see that you have obviously been living as a woman for some time. How long?"

 

"Nearly eighteen months," I replied.

 

He nodded. "Good, and certainly I can see that you have adjusted to your role. However, there are other things that need to be considered: formal psychiatric and psychological reports are required along with some basic and specialised blood tests."

 

I pulled a folder out of my bag and passed it over to him. On arriving back in London from Cardiff, I had called by Dr. Carson's rooms and obtained copies of everything I would need. She also gave me her blessing for what I was planning. He spent several minutes reading through everything and then looked up and smiled.

 

"Everything seems to be in order here." He paused. "I will need to perform a physical examination. I'll bring my wife in as a chaperone while I examine you."

 

I shrugged. "That's not really necessary."

 

He chuckled. "I'm afraid it is. More to protect me though. The legal climate of this country means that I have to ensure that I'm not leaving myself open to any dubious allegations."

 

His wife was a pretty blonde woman in her early fifties. She had aged well and I idly wondered if the aging process was easier when your husband was a renowned plastic surgeon. Dr. Barker examined me from top to toe and was thoroughly professional. I was not wearing my protection belt as I hoped to soon have no further need of it. When he was finished, I dressed again and his wife left the room. I took a seat before his desk once more.

 

"Miss Evans, I would certainly be happy to schedule you for sex reassignment surgery. However, I do have a significant waiting list"

 

"Dr. Barker," I interrupted. "There is another complicating factor. I will require absolute anonymity and complete secrecy."

 

He looked at me strangely. "I'm assuming that I should probably know who you are. You look familiar, but I can't place you."

 

"I work under the name Cara Malone."

 

He stared at me blankly for a moment and then something like a spark of recognition showed in his eyes. "Cara Malone? As in the British singer who was recently kidnapped?"

 

I nodded and smiled. "Yes, that's me."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "My youngest daughter bought your CD recently. Wow, and you're" He grinned and shook his head. "Sorry; I keep thinking that I've been in this business too long to be shocked, but there you have it." He paused. "Did your kidnapping have something to do with you being" He stopped. "I shouldn't pry, sorry."

 

I nodded. "No, it's OK. You're right, it was related, but I'm sure you'll understand if I don't want to talk about it any further."

 

"Of course, and I can also understand your requirement for privacy." He thought for a moment and then continued, "I have done a number of 'special' cases over the years. You'd be surprised if you heard their names, but of course I can't tell you that. It is possible to make arrangements to ensure absolute secrecy. These arrangements will result in increased cost to you. My fee doesnt change as I would do nothing other than protect your privacy, but the ancillary costs will be greater."

 

I nodded. "I expected as much and I'm prepared to accept that."

 

"Alright, back to scheduling then. When were you thinking of for your surgery?"

 

I looked at him frankly. "As soon as possible. If you said it could be done tomorrow, I'd jump at it."

 

He laughed. "I see." He scratched his head and pulled out a diary. "As this is going to be an extremely private procedure, I could schedule it for a weekend. This weekend is free, assuming I can persuade my anaesthesiologist to work."

 

"Dr. Barker, I don't mean to sound like I don't trust your arrangements, but how will my identity be protected through the surgery and the aftercare?"

 

"The anaesthesiologist is a close friend of mine who will not be told your name. He won't question this or ask to know more. There will be a junior assisting surgeon who will similarly not know any specific details. There will be three surgical nurses who will also be looking after you postoperatively. They will take turns at eight-hour shifts and will be the only nurses that will have any contact with you. They will know who you are."

 

"Can they be trusted?"

 

He chuckled. "One is my wife, the second is my sister and the third is my oldest daughter."

 

I grinned. "A family business."

 

He shrugged. "This is the way I've done it before for 'special' patients. It has worked well."

 

I nodded. "I'm sorry for doubting, but I just wanted to be sure."

 

He went on to tell me the specific details of the surgery. I wasn't that keen to hear them, but he insisted that all his patients only underwent procedures if they were fully informed as to what was entailed.

 

He then talked about the aftercare. Apparently, I would be kept in the clinic for about a week. He wanted me to remain in the local area for another week, as he would want to perform another check-up at the end of that period of time. I asked the question that was particularly relevant to me and he told me that he would recommend that I didn't fly for at least two weeks following surgery. I had been expecting something like that.

 

"One thing that interests me, Miss Evans, is why you chose to come to me?" he asked as he showed me to the front door.

 

I shrugged. "I did a lot of research on the Internet and most reports say that you are the best. That's what I wanted."

 

He smiled. "I'm flattered." I could see him swell with pride at my words.

 

As I left, he shook my hand and said that he would contact me at my hotel later that day to confirm if that weekend was going to be suitable. I drove off and felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension within me. In just two day's time, I could be bringing a long road of change to completion.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The surgery did indeed go ahead that Saturday as planned. I had been a bundle of nerves beforehand and it was almost a relief when I was put to sleep with the anaesthetic. The few days following the surgery had been a blur of drowsiness, pain and half-recalled memories that almost seemed like dreams. The drowsiness receded, but the pain had persisted.

 

My team of three nurses were wonderful. They not only cared for my physical needs, but they spent time with me, talking and encouraging me. Towards the end of the week, I was becoming more mobile. I was being introduced to a new and, let me say, very unpleasant concept: dilation. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then be assured that ignorance is bliss. I'm not going to say much more about it save that I was told that it was to be an absolutely necessary part of my life for the following several months.

 

At the end of the week, I was discharged from the clinic and I returned to my hotel room. For several days, I only left my room to go to the restaurant to eat. I could have ordered room service, but I knew that I had to force myself to get out and do a little walking. I don't want there to be any romantic notion that I felt wonderfully complete and suddenly whole. It was a painful and lonely time, however I had no regrets.

 

This one event had not been the central episode in defining my identity; it was rather the necessary culmination of what I had known for a long time: I was a woman.

 

It felt strange not to have the usual 'baggage' between my legs. There was a certain feeling of loss, but I assumed that was to be expected given that I had been used to having said 'baggage' there for as long as I could remember. As the week wore on, I began to go out for longer walks. The discharge from down below decreased and by the end of the week, I barely needed the sanitary pads that I had been wearing.

 

I was due to see Dr. Barker on the Friday afternoon for my check-up. That morning, I made more of an effort with myself, so I dressed in a white blouse, denim miniskirt and tan stockings. I did my hair and make-up and set out in my hire car.

 

There was a local sight that I had been reading about and wanted to see. I made the short drive out to what was called the 'Garden of the Gods'. It was a spectacular formation of large red rocks that towered above the surrounding garden-like area. Through these mini-mountains, you could see the rising peaks of the Rockies. It was a clear sunny day and I was almost able to forget about my discomfort as I enjoyed a short walk. Two handsome young men were hiking through the area and I noticed the appreciative looks and smiles that they gave me. It made me feel good. I relished the feeling, as I had been quite down earlier in the week.

 

I drove over to Dr. Barker's house in the afternoon. He welcomed me into his office with a friendly handshake and asked about how I was feeling. It was somewhat comforting to hear that everything I was experiencing was to be expected. His wife again joined us and he inspected his handiwork. He seemed pleased and assured me that everything was healing up very well. He told me to give him a call at anytime if I had any particular problems. He of course also reminded me not to forget the one thing that I longed to forget: dilation. Both he and his wife hugged me as I left.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The next morning, I checked out of my hotel and took to the road again. I had wanted to get away from that hotel room, as it was not a place that carried particularly happy memories for me. I was tired of staring at its four walls. I hadn't been sure where I was going to go, but I had remembered a conversation in the clinic that I'd had with Dr. Barker's daughter. She had been talking about her recent skiing holiday. She had told me all about the place she had stayed at: the lovely village, the beautiful mountains and the crisp clear pure air. I decided that it sounded like as good a place as any for me to continue my recuperation. I had phoned ahead and booked a condominium before setting out.

 

I headed back up I-25 and, after skirting around Denver; I changed onto the I-70 and headed west. It was a liberating feeling to drive up into the majestic mountains that I had been admiring from afar over the previous few weeks. I took my turn off the interstate and travelled the dozen or so miles to my destination.

 

Breckenridge was an old Victorian mining town in the midst of the Rockies. While its prosperity from mining had eventually waned, more recently it had found a resource more profitable than gold: tourism. I drove down into the little valley in which it was situated, and I could certainly appreciate the beauty of its location, as the mountains towered over it in every direction. I took a drive down the main street to get a feel of the place. Yes, it was geared for tourists, but it had been tastefully done, as most of the buildings were in keeping with the Victorian style of the place.

 

I found my way to the condominium village that I had booked into. I checked in and was given the key and directions to my two-bedroom condo. It was an alpine-style chalet building and my condo was on the first floor. The Americans insisted on calling it the second floor. 'Where was the ground floor then?' I wondered.

 

I carried my luggage up the flight of stairs and found that I was gasping at the top. Was I so unfit following my surgery? My lungs were clamouring for oxygen and I realised that it must be the altitude. The village was situated at the impressive altitude of over nine and a half thousand feet. My condo was comfortably furnished and had plush carpet underfoot. I lit the gas fire and began to unpack. It was so different from the anonymously furnished hotel room and I settled myself in.

 

I phoned my Dad and Claire to let them know of my new location. I had of course been keeping in touch with them after my surgery. They were always concerned to hear how I was doing and I had to persuade both of them on several occasions not to fly out to join me.

 

It was not that I wouldn't have wanted company, but with the intimate nature of the surgery that I had gone through, I didn't think that I could face anyone else witnessing the discomfort that I had been going through. This discomfort had settled to more of a dull ache and I was occasionally able to forget about it, except when I had to dilate.

 

More important though, was the fact that I had not been alone for any significant period of time since my life had been turned upside down eighteen months previously. Between the time spent in Devon at the very beginning of my transition, my rise to fame in the music world and culminating in my nightmarish kidnapping, I had barely spent any time alone. More than ever, at this turning point in my life, I had to live these intimate moments by myself in order to fully come to terms with all that had led to this point in my life.

 

The journey had tired me and I snuggled into my cosy double bed and looked forward to exploring the village the next day.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The next morning was clear with a brilliant blue sky. I think the sky looked even bluer than normal as it was contrasted against the white peaks that towered up against it. Although the condo had its own kitchen, I had no provisions so I headed into the village. I found a friendly diner and enjoyed a nice unhealthy breakfast.

 

I wandered around the centre of the village and it didn't take long to cover the main commercial area. Basically, it consisted of one long Main Street that contained most of the shops and restaurants. Some of the side streets had little shops and businesses too, but if one ventured any further out, one found oneself in residential areas and amidst the multitude of hotels, guesthouses and condominiums that were arrayed around the village. I went back to collect my car and made a trip to the one supermarket in town. I stocked up with all the necessities and headed back to the condo.

 

I had a lovely view out of one of the windows. I could see one of the slopes that stretched all the way from the ski area right down into the village. Every so often, skiers would come flying past dressed in their colourful gear. It looked so healthy and invigorating that I was almost tempted to join them, but I didn't feel that my insides would be up to such strenuous exercise at that time. Instead, I set my laptop down on a desk in front of the window and began to work on the problem that still hung over me.

 

That afternoon, still feeling cooped up, I decided to stretch my legs again. I strolled down into the village and decided to explore the street behind Main Street. I spotted a little coffee shop called 'Mountain Java' and, on impulse, I went in. It wasn't too busy as there was only one couple sitting at a table at the back. I supposed that most of the potential customers were still out on the slopes. I went up to the counter and asked for an espresso.

 

"You're not from round here, are you?" asked the young woman cheerfully.

 

I doubted that too many of the inhabitants of the village were locals given the large numbers of tourists, but I knew what she meant. "No, I'm not," I replied.

 

"British? English?" she inquired.

 

"Yes and no," I said with a smile. "British yes, but I'm actually Welsh."

 

"Ah," she said but looked as if she didn't fully appreciate the difference.

 

"I hope you enjoy your stay in Breckenridge," she said as she handed me my espresso.

 

"I think I will," I said and thanked her.

 

I sat down at a table and realised that there were bookcases lining the walls of the caf. I walked over to one and looked a bit closer. There were all sorts of books on every subject, factual and fiction. I pulled a book about the history of Breckenridge from the shelf and sat down to read as I enjoyed my coffee. I got more engrossed in the book than I had intended as, when I next looked at my watch, I noticed that it was late afternoon. The establishment had been filling up and was actually quite busy by that time. I replaced the book on the shelf and waved at the girl behind the counter as I left.

 

That evening I tried to cook myself up something to eat. I was moderately successful. I had become tired of always eating in restaurants and the rich food was not good for me. I had fancied something simple and with me cooking that was what I was guaranteed. I watched some mindless television and was surprised at how tired I felt given that I hadn't done anything too much in the way of exertion. I turned in fairly early.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

My days took on a similar routine over the next couple of weeks. I would work on my computer in the mornings and then in the afternoons I would make my daily trip to 'Mountain Java'. I would enjoy a coffee or two, chat a bit with Marisa, the owner, and browse through some of the books for an hour or two. Since I had become the closest thing to a regular that Marisa had, she had said that I could borrow the books in the evening if I wished. I took her up on her offer and had done a phenomenal amount of reading during my time there. It was almost easy to believe that the outside world didn't really exist.

 

One day, about three weeks after I had arrived in Breckenridge, I made my usual trip to 'Mountain Java'. I got my coffee, exchanged pleasantries with Marisa and sat down with a new book. After a while, I became aware of some people glancing over in my direction. I looked out of the corner of my eye and spotted a table of three guys and two girls. Probably around my age, I estimated. They were huddled together and I noticed that each of them would cast supposedly surreptitious glances towards me. I pretended not to notice and tried to listen to what they were saying. Whilst I couldn't make out the words, I recognised the accent: they were Scottish. This made sense, as I was more likely to be recognised by Brits than Americans. I took my cup back to Marisa and walked past their table with my book under my arm.

 

As I opened the door I overheard one hiss to the others, "See, it is her. I told you so."

 

I smiled to myself and continued on my way.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The next day, when I arrived at the caf, the Scots were already there, sitting at the same table. I thought this was slightly unusual as most young people were out on the slopes at that time. The looks that I got when I arrived made me a little suspicious. My suspicions were confirmed as I picked up my espresso from Marisa. One of the girls got up from their table and walked over to me.

 

"Hi," she said shyly.

 

"Hello," I said with a smile.

 

"I was just wondering you look awfully like Cara Malone" she said hesitantly in a soft Scottish brogue.

 

I grinned. "What can I say, you've found me out."

 

Her eyebrows rose. "Seriously, it is you? Wow, we thought it was you yesterday, but we couldn't be sure."

 

I laughed gently. "You can tell them all that you were correct." I was about to head for my usual table when she spoke again.

 

"Err do you want to join us?"

 

I was about to refuse and she continued, "It's just that we thought you looked a bit lonely yesterday."

 

I paused and thought. She was right. I was lonely. I had just gotten used to it over the previous weeks. It hadn't really bothered me until then when she had mentioned it. I had relished the time to be alone, to do what I wanted, to become familiar with the new body that I had. Or rather, the completion of the new body.

 

I shrugged and smiled shyly. "That would be nice, but I wouldn't want to intrude."

 

She beamed and shook her head. "Oh no, you wouldn't be intruding."

 

I walked over with her to their table and one of the guys pulled up another chair for me.

 

The girl who had been talking to me said, "Folks, this is Cara Malone."

 

I sat down and felt myself blush. "Err hi everyone. Please, call me Nicola though."

 

"Nicola?" the other girl said with a puzzled expression.

 

"Yes, her real name is Nicola Evans, isn't it?" said one of the guys.

 

I nodded and one of the other guys poked the one who had spoken. "You would know, Craig, wouldn't you? I mean you must be one of her biggest fans."

 

"Howl yer whisht," he said good-humouredly, but his face reddened nonetheless. For those not familiar with Scottish slang, his words could be better translated as, "Would you please desist from talking so."

 

"I'm Craig," he said as he extended his hand.

 

I shook it. "Pleased to meet you, Craig."

 

I got the rest of the introductions. The girl who had come up to me first was Kirsty and the other girl was Barbara. The other two guys were Keith and Robert. Robert and Kirsty were an item, I gathered. They were a group of friends from their University days and now that they were working had decided to treat themselves to a skiing holiday in Colorado.

 

"The snow's just a wee bit drier here than in the Cairngorms," Keith explained.

 

Although I had initially been reluctant to join them, I found myself enjoying their free and light-hearted conversation. I felt welcomed and was able to just sit there and appreciate their company. Of course they did ask me questions about myself. When they asked why I was there all alone, I tried to pass it off that after my kidnapping, which they were well aware of, I had wanted some time alone in a secluded spot. They seemed to accept that.

 

"So, Nicola," Barbara began with a twinkle in her eye, "d'ye mind if I ask about that guitarist of yours?"

 

I shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

 

She grinned. "Is he really as gorgeous in real life as he appears?"

 

I laughed and then nodded. "Yes, I guess he is."

 

Kirsty raised an eyebrow. "You can tell me to get lost, but I'm dying to know if there's anything between you and him."

 

I chuckled and shook my head. However, within me, I felt something akin to pain at her words. "No, we're very good friends, that's all." I saw the sceptical looks that they gave me. "I'm telling you the truth," I insisted.

 

Robert nudged Craig. "There's hope for you yet, mate."

 

Craig blushed again and put a hand over his face. He looked up and grinned. "Alright, I can see I'm going to have to get this all out in the open." He looked at me and smiled with embarrassment. "Nicola, I've learnt never to tell my friends anything in future because I did happen to mention to them that I was fairly taken with this new singer, Cara Malone. I mean, it's not as if ever thought I'd be sitting here with you, but there you have it." He turned to his friends, "No more teasing now?"

 

Keith chuckled. "We're only getting warmed up. What was it you said? She's the most gorgeous woman you'd ever seen and was definitely your ideal woman?"

 

Keith groaned as Craig's elbow connected with some part of his anatomy. "Sorry, Nicola," Craig apologised. "They shouldn't embarrass you like that."

 

I smiled back at him. "Oh, I'm not embarrassed, Craig, I'm flattered."

 

We chatted on and I was getting up to leave when Kirsty grabbed my arm. "What are you doing for dinner tonight?"

 

I shrugged. She had caught me off guard. "I hadn't anything planned."

 

"You should come with us," she said.

 

"I don't know. I don't want to impose myself on your time together"

 

Barbara stood up. "Nicola, you wouldn't be imposing yourself at all. We don't want to force you to do something you don't want to. What we're saying is that if you wanted to join us, you'd be more than welcome. It's up to you."

 

I thought about it. Did I want to? Inside I realised that yes, I did. I had enjoyed the company and had probably had more of a conversation in the previous few hours than I'd had all week.

 

I grinned. "OK, I'd love to come."

 

The boys whooped and Robert and Keith high-fived Craig, who looked embarrassed, but also quite pleased. I laughed and made arrangements with the girls as to where and when to meet.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Late that afternoon, I phoned Jools.

 

"Hi Jools. This isn't too late to phone you, is it?"

 

"Cara, hi, how are you? Too late? No, not at all. Where are you? Why haven't you called before now?"

 

I chuckled. "Where do I start?

 

She laughed. "How are you then?"

 

"I'm fine, I really am."

 

"Where on earth are you?"

 

"Jools, I'm somewhere relaxing. I'm just taking time out to get my head around things. I'll explain everything when I come home."

 

She seemed a little aggrieved. "Why won't you tell me where you are? It's not like I'll release it to the press. I'm just worried that no one knows where you are."

 

"Dad and Claire know, so don't worry about me."

 

That piece of news seemed to satisfy her. I didn't think that it would have, but she didn't press me further. She filled me in on the latest news from her end. Ongoing sales, any newspaper stories about me and the like. Before ending the call, I promised her that I would keep in touch.

 

I got ready for dinner and decided to make more effort than I had been accustomed to doing. Since I had basically existed without much human contact, I had been happy to lounge around in simple baggy tops and jeans. Recently I hadn't even been bothered to put on any make-up each day. I pulled on a warm black jersey dress, thick black tights and my knee-length boots. I spent a fair amount of time on my hair and make-up and then, happy with my appearance, set out to meet the others.

 

We were eating at a Mexican restaurant in the centre of the village. The others were already there when I arrived and they waved me over. I sat down at the table in the only empty seat which I am sure was deliberately beside Craig.

 

"You look amazing," Kirsty gushed.

 

I shrugged. "I just thought I should make up for the grotty way I looked earlier."

 

"You didn't look grotty," Craig protested. He grinned. "But you do look fantastic tonight."

 

"Why thank you, Craig," I said with a coy smile. "You're looking quite smart yourself."

 

He blushed and laughed. He was spared more embarrassment by the arrival of the waiter to take our order. The meal wasn't bad and the conversation was good. They regaled me with the stories of their adventures on the slopes. Robert, Keith and Kirsty had skied before, but Barbara and Craig hadn't. There had been a number of spectacular falls it seemed. Barbara had managed to take out six other people in one go as she careered from one side of a slope to another.

 

"Have you done any skiing?" Barbara asked.

 

I shook my head. "Never."

 

"You can't come to the Rockies and not ski," said Robert.

 

I shrugged. "I don't know if I could manage it."

 

"Never know 'til you try," insisted Keith.

 

I laughed. "I'll think about it, OK?"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Knowing that they would no doubt again ask me to join them for skiing, I phoned Dr. Barker the next day. I asked him if it would be too soon to do something energetic like skiing. It had been over four weeks since my surgery and he assured me that if I had no discharge and if everything had healed up, there would be no problem. I hadn't had any discharge for a few weeks and, as far as I could see, I was healing well.

 

So it was that I found myself shopping with Kirsty and Barbara to get me the gear that I needed. I ended up with white ski pants with pink trim, a matching padded jacket and all the accessories: gloves, hat and sunglasses. The girls had their momentum going and guided me to a ski-hire shop where I was fitted for skis and boots. Add a lift pass and I was ready for the slopes. Except that I didn't feel ready.

 

The next morning, I met them at the base of Peak Nine. I was wearing my gear and would have felt self-conscious had not the rest of the world around me been wearing similar attire.

 

Keith wolf-whistled when he saw me. "Looking good, girl," he said appreciatively.

 

Kirsty nudged him. "Hey, stop looking at her. Unfair competition."

 

He grabbed her and hugged her tight. "You know you're the only woman for me. Looking doesn't hurt, though."

 

She giggled. "If you look much more, you might find that it does hurt." She tickled him under his chin.

 

They showed me how to get my skis strapped on and I awkwardly made my way to the ski lift with them. I felt as if I were going to fall at any minute.

 

"Lean forward into your boots," Robert suggested.

 

It was hard to do, but once I tried it, I realised that I was better balanced. Kirsty came alongside me and talked me through getting onto the ski lift. When it was our turn, we got into position and I found myself bumped onto the lift and then lifted high into the air. I realised that I was holding my breath and remembered to breathe again. The lift whisked us high above the slope below as we began to ascend.

 

"Wow," I murmured as I looked down at the village far below us. "What a view."

 

"Isn't it awesome," Kirsty agreed. "There's nothing like being out on the mountain, in the fresh air, the sun on your head, and feeling the wind whistle past you as you zoom down the slopes."

 

I grinned. "If you can stay on your feet long enough to appreciate it."

 

Kirsty warned me about getting off the lift as the end approached.

 

"Don't worry," she said. "Most people fall the first time they try to get off."

 

Who was I to do anything other than what most people would do? I fell. I picked myself up with embarrassment and noticed the others grinning at me.

 

"Not fair," I said as I dusted myself down. "I'm the total novice here."

 

"I'm just glad I'm not the worst anymore," Craig said.

 

Barbara laughed. "You might not be saying that at the end of the day, Craig. I reckon she'll be a quick learner."

 

I wasn't that quick at learning, but with the patient instruction of the three more experienced skiers, I learnt a few important things: the first of these being how to stop myself. That is, aside from falling in a heap which I did do on several occasions. I was taught how to snowplough and then how to do basic turns. I ploughed my way down the easy slopes. I felt my knees starting to complain as the day wore on.

 

After lunch, when I put my boots on again, my wearied legs complained and I just wanted to take the boots off immediately. However, I persisted and by the end of the day, I was beginning to see what was so appealing about the whole experience. I hadn't cracked it by a long shot, but I had managed to snowplough my way down one of the nursery slopes a few times without falling.

 

That evening, to thank them for their patience and kindness to me, I invited them round to my condo and I made dinner. It wasn't anything spectacular, just a simple lasagne, but they seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. What I enjoyed about being with them was that they treated me, for the most part, as a normal person.

 

At one point Robert had said, "I can't believe you're so normal, Nicola."

 

I laughed. "What did you expect?"

 

He shrugged. "I don't know. A stuck-up, aloof bimbo who was full of herself."

 

"Robert!" the other two girls gasped.

 

He held up his hands. "I didn't say that's what she was like. She's the complete opposite. I mean you're so down to earth, you're funny, intelligent" He turned to Craig and winked. "I can see why you'd want to marry her."

 

A mini-wrestling match ensued and we cheered them on until it became obvious that it was going to be a stalemate. At the end of the evening, they thanked me as they left and we arranged to meet on the slopes the next morning.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Over the next few days, I spent more and more time on the slopes. To Craig's chagrin, I did learn fast and was soon on an equal footing with him and Barbara. I had learnt how to manage parallel turns and how to do a hockey stop. I had graduated onto the intermediate slopes and, although I still fell on occasions, I was able to cope fairly well. It was exhilarating to look down over the slope stretching out in front of you and to feel as if you were jumping off the side of the world as you begin your run. Swishing from side to side as you traverse the slope and wind your way down to the base over what could be a distance of a few miles I was hooked.

 

I spent most evenings with my new friends and soon felt just like one of them. We took turns to either eat out or cook in one of our condos. One night, after eating at their place, I made my way back to my condo. It was late and I was tired after an exhausting day on the slopes. I began to climb the flight of stairs to my condo and then froze on the spot.

 

I spotted a shadowy figure sitting outside my door. I hadn't been noticed and, with my heart in my mouth, I crept up the stairs. One of the stairs creaked and the figure looked up at me. He slowly got up from where he had been sitting on a suitcase it seemed. I recognised him and felt my heart pound.

 

"What on earth are you doing here, Jon?" I asked.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 47

 

 

He grinned shyly at me. "Hey you," he said softly.

 

I was almost annoyed at the way my body betrayed me: I felt myself flush and my pulse quicken at the sound of his voice.

 

"What are you doing here?" I repeated.

 

He shrugged. "I came to see you. Can I come in?"

 

I was so flustered by this unexpected turn of events that I didn't know what to do or say. "Uhh yes, of course."

 

I opened the door, he followed me in and set his suitcase down. He stood just inside the doorway and smiled at me.

 

"What?" I asked.

 

"You're looking great."

 

I inclined my head. "I feel great." It was true with the exercise of skiing and the fresh outdoor air, I felt healthier than I had for a long time. "Whereas you? You look exhausted, Jon."

 

He grinned. "Yeah, I've been travelling all day."

 

"How long were you waiting there for me?"

 

"About three hours or so."

 

"Jon! You must be freezing. Let me get the kettle on. You must be starving too"

 

"Cara, no," he gently interrupted.

 

I turned back to face him with the confusion evident on my face. "But"

 

He shook his head. "All that can wait. There's something that can't wait."

 

"I don't understand"

 

He pointed to the sofa. "Can we talk?"

 

He took his coat off and I did likewise. After lighting the gas fire and slipping off my boots, I joined him on the sofa. I had this horrible feeling that he had come all this way to apologise for the situation I had found him in. I had purposefully wanted to avoid such an encounter and that was why I had gone to great lengths to keep my whereabouts a secret. How had he found out? I had been trying to put Jon out of my mind for weeks and the last thing I needed was for him to bring all the buried pain to the surface again.

 

He was sitting and staring at me in silence. I said, "You wanted to talk?"

 

He nodded thoughtfully and then sat forward. "Cara, when we last saw each other, you told me something very important." He paused. "Do you still love me?"

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn't sure I could handle a post mortem of my feelings or explain how hard it had been to try to get over them.

 

"Jon, I don't think there's any point going over old"

 

I stopped with shock as he leant forward and gently kissed me fully on the lips. After about ten seconds, he broke the kiss and sat back. He looked at me with a strange intensity in his eyes.

 

"Jon, I I don't understand." I raised my hand involuntarily to my lips. Again my body had betrayed me: the rush of adrenaline that had immediately coursed through my body at his touch was unbelievable. I was almost shaking.

 

He smiled. "Cara, I love you so much that it scares me witless."

 

I blinked several times and wondered if I had heard him correctly. My breathing became irregular and I suddenly felt very warm. "What? What did you say?" I asked, not wanting to believe it yet.

 

He smiled gently and slowly pulled me closer to him until his arm was around my shoulders. "I'm head over heels in love with you. I've never felt this way before."

 

I looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and anticipation. I was about to ask one of the million questions that had poured into my mind when he gently placed his finger on my lips. "Shush please answer me one question before I say anything more. Do you still love me?"

 

The answer that I had been trying to instil within myself got thrown out the window forever as I looked into his piercing blue eyes. "Yes, Jon," I said in a croaky voice. "I love you."

 

His eyes closed momentarily and a blissful smile appeared on his face. "Thank God," he murmured. He lowered his lips to mine again and they barely brushed together yet it felt like thousands of volts of electricity were coursing between us.

 

We held that position for a few minutes, neither of us seeming to want to move. Eventually, Jon lifted his head and tenderly stroked my cheek.

 

"I don't understand" I began hesitantly.

 

Jon smiled. "I think we both have a lot of explaining to do. Probably more so on my side. Shall I go first?"

 

I nodded and couldn't tear my eyes from his face. I curled my legs up underneath myself and leaned up against him as his arm pulled me closer.

 

He took a deep breath. "I'm going to start right from the beginning and tell you everything. No more secrets, no more pretence." He looked down at me. "When I first met you, as Cara, I was blown away. I've always liked pretty girls, but, when I first saw you, there was something more. There was this shy, vulnerable appearance that you projected. I can now understand why, but I found it incredibly attractive. Then, when you started to play and sing, I couldn't believe my luck. Here was this lovely girl who played great music and who had a killer voice. I mean, I'm talking my dream girl here."

 

I laughed and gently slapped a hand against his chest. "Jon!" I protested with embarrassment.

 

He shook his head. "No, I mean it. Perhaps now you can now understand the intensity of my reaction when I realised who you were." He sighed. "I felt stupid, deluded and disappointed." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I was determined to have nothing to do with your band."

 

"What made you change your mind?" I asked softly.

 

He smiled. "You did. That next day when I met you in town for coffee, I was all set to tell you that I didn't want to be a part of it. When I saw you again, I changed my mind. I don't know why, but I knew that I wanted to spend time with you. Oh, I pretended to myself that it was just the music. I couldn't admit to it being anything else. You know that I was awkward around you for quite a while, but then we just seemed to get to know each other better and it was like becoming friends again. I was trying to deny this deep attraction that I had for you as I couldn't deal with it, but the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to be with you."

 

"I had no idea," I murmured.

 

He shrugged. "I wasn't exactly broadcasting it. So I thought anyway, but then the guys, Brian in particular, kept telling me how good you and I would be together. He kept asking if I felt anything for you. I kept denying it, but I knew that he wasn't buying it." He sighed. "So, I thought I'd try and show them - and myself - that there was nothing doing."

 

"Tanya?" I asked.

 

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I liked the girl and I knew that she had been keen on me for a while. I figured that I'd give it a go and see what happened." He paused again. "There was no spark though. I enjoyed her company, but she didn't set my world on fire. Do you want to know the best night I had while going out with Tanya?"

 

I screwed my face up. "I'm not sure I want to hear details of what you two"

 

He shook his head and interrupted. "It was the night you and I went to the 'Stealing Time' concert."

 

My eyes widened and I murmured, "Oh"

 

He grinned. "Yeah, I knew things weren't right between me and Tanya and it sort of came to a head that night when Noel you know. I told her that I wasn't going to Paris, as I had to make sure you were going to be alright. She probably knew what I was feeling better than I did. She told me to stay with you, as you were obviously the one I wanted. I told myself she was just being jealous."

 

He didn't speak for a few seconds and I eventually prompted. "And?"

 

He looked back down at me. "Can you bear to hear me talk about Yosemite?"

 

I nodded. "I have to hear it."

 

He smiled. "Those two days we spent together, until well until you know what, they were two of the best days I've ever had. I really enjoyed myself and being with you just felt right. I had no idea what you thought or felt, but I was just happy to enjoy myself. That day hiking to Sentinel Dome was fantastic. There I was with, in my opinion, the prettiest girl in the country and we seemed to be getting on great. I just forgot about" He shrugged. "Anyway, I loved the closeness of carrying you after you hurt your ankle"

 

"And looking down the front of my blouse at my breasts," I interrupted with a twinkle in my eye.

 

He laughed and blushed. "I still can't believe that you noticed. Well, yes, that too it just felt so intimate. Then, when we ended up in the room together and you came out of the bathroom, I thought you looked so beautiful, so perfect I couldn't stop myself from kissing you. I don't know if you felt it, but when we kissed I can't describe the feeling."

 

"I felt it too," I said softly.

 

He nodded and then looked away. "Then I had to go and spoil it. I started thinking and my mind told me that I couldn't do what I was doing and it all went wrong. I'm so sorry, Cara."

 

"It was a long time ago."

 

"I lay awake most of that night and felt like the most miserable creature on earth. This beautiful woman that I had such feelings for was lying there crying herself to sleep because of my stupid hang-ups. I decided to set things right the next morning. When I woke, you weren't there. I was so exhausted when I eventually did get to sleep, that I hadn't heard you get up. When you came to breakfast, I was going to tell you"

 

"Tell me what?" I asked with a feeling of dread in my stomach.

 

"I was going to tell you that I had been wrong and that I thought I loved you. I was going to tell you that I couldn't get my mind round everything at that point, but that was the way I felt."

 

"Heavens above," I said. "Then I had to go and put my foot in it."

 

He inclined his head. "After what you said, I thought that maybe I had read too much into it. After all, it had been an emotional situation. So I just tried to put it behind me." He stroked my cheek again. "I'm presuming - with what you told me a few weeks back - that the words you said over that breakfast time weren't quite correct?"

 

I groaned. "Jon, they couldn't have been further from the truth."

 

"I've done a lot of talking. Do you want to tell me some of your side now?"

 

I nodded and thought for a moment after beginning. "Back at the start, I didn't have any strong feelings for you; I just wanted you in the band. I can't really pinpoint a moment when I realised that I had these feelings they just sort of crept up on me and before I knew it, I was falling for you. Others noticed it too: Jools and Laura. Laura made me admit that I was attracted to you and I think she and Brian were both trying to play cupid with us. I kept trying to deny what I was feeling as I knew there was no future in it. I thought that there was no way you would feel the same for me." I smiled bashfully. "However, I was gutted when you told me about Tanya."

 

"What about Yosemite from your point of view?" he prompted gently.

 

I smiled. "Jon, I don't think I've ever been as happy as I was during those two days we spent together. Well, maybe until now" I grinned and bit my lip as I felt myself redden. His hand was gently brushing my hair back from my face and it was all I could do to concentrate on keeping my train of thought from derailing.

 

"Where was I? Oh yes, Yosemite. I loved it. I really did. I have to admit I was overjoyed when I realised that it was just going to be you and me away together. I don't know what I thought was going to happen, but it wasn't about thinking too much, it was about feeling and it felt good. Hurting my ankle was strangely one of the best things that happened. I loved how it felt when you held me close and when you carried me. I didn't fake it, but with hindsight, if I hadn't hurt my ankle, it would have been worth faking it!"

 

He laughed and teased, "I did wonder if you were putting it on, but I figured that even you weren't clever enough to make your ankle swell by itself."

 

I grinned up at him and then got serious again. "When you kissed me" I paused for a few moments and took a deep breath. I looked away and murmured, "I couldn't believe how it felt. I didn't know I could feel so excited?" I hesitated. "I was hurt by what you said, but when I thought about it, I was probably also annoyed with myself. How could I think you would want me? Who did I think I was fooling?"

 

"Cara, I'm so sorry"

 

I shook my head. "No, we were both to blame. To think that I concocted that cock and bull story about it not meaning anything and trying to pass it off as us acting irresponsibly in the heat of the moment? When the truth was that I knew I was falling in love with you. If only I'd let you speak first"

 

He shrugged. "You weren't to know. I'd given you every indication that I didn't want you."

 

We sat there without speaking for a few minutes. The only sound was the gentle hissing of the gas fire. He pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head. "I'll go on, shall I?" he asked.

 

I nodded and snuggled in close.

 

"I felt miserable after the trip. I really did. I knew I had to try and get over it and put you out of my mind, but it wasn't that easy. I mean, every time we played 'Forgotten How to Love' I kept asking myself why you had written that song at that time. I wondered if was about me, then told myself to stop being so stupid."

 

"It was about you," I confessed. "Of course it was about you. So was 'Simply Say' by the way."

 

That surprised him and he smiled. "Really? You wrote that about me?"

 

I smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah, although I probably pretended to myself that it wasn't about you."

 

He grinned at me for a few moments before continuing, "Anyway, I was trying to get you out of my head without much success. Then I met Simone." He winced. "Not one of my better ideas. I was so messed up. When I told you about her, on the roof of the Sony building, I was so hoping that you'd be annoyed, that you'd give me some sign that you had feelings for me."

 

I sighed. "We've been fools. I felt like dying when you told me, but what could I do? I couldn't tell you how I felt as I thought you would think I was repulsive or something for thinking you would be interested in me."

 

He squeezed me tight and in a voice that sounded pained said, "I could never find you repulsive."

 

I swallowed hard and felt a solitary tear escape my eye. Jon noticed and tenderly wiped it away with his hand. I found my composure. "I was to blame too. I was telling myself that I wanted to get past you and get on with things. That was supposedly my reasoning for going out with Charlie. I did like him and did enjoy his company, but deep down I knew that I didn't feel for him what I felt for you." I paused. "You had every right to be annoyed with me. I thought you believed that it was sick that there was me, given who I was, hooking up with your cousin."

 

Jon laughed softly. "It wasn't that it was jealousy, pure and simple. At your Christmas party when I saw him kiss you after I had kissed Simone, I just wished that it was you I was kissing. I know I probably sounded like an ignorant oaf when I confronted you about it in America."

 

I grinned ruefully. "And I was a total bitch to you."

 

We both paused for a moment.

 

"When you were kidnapped" he began hesitantly. He shuddered. "It was like my world was falling in. The thought of anything bad happening to you made me realise that there was no way I was going to get over you. I didn't sleep a wink until I knew you were safe. If I could have, I would have torn the head off anyone who tried to hurt you." He sighed. "Then when you were back home, I kept waiting to see if there was any possibility of trying to tell you how I felt. I knew that you needed time to get over all that had happened. Then Jools told me to give you space and I thought that it was your way of letting me know that you didn't want me around."

 

"Oh no," I exclaimed. "I needed the time to finally admit to myself how much I felt for you and to decide what to do about it."

 

He shrugged. "I had no idea. I didn't even know that you and Charlie had broken up until after you came by my place that night. For all I knew, you two were getting along like a house on fire."

 

"That night" I began sombrely.

 

"Yeah," he interrupted. "I could have killed myself." He paused and rubbed his eyes hard. "I was such a fool." He shook his head. "You have to understand that I thought there was no hope for us and I felt as if I was dying inside. You have to believe me when I tell you this next part." He sat there and chewed his lip, looking miserable.

 

I looked up at him with concern. I raised a hand up and gently stroked his cheek. "Tell me."

 

He blinked a few times and looked down at me. "I I was really messed up. I met this girl in a bar, I met her just that night and I invited her back to my place. It was nothing; it was pitiful. I was just trying to prove to myself that I could still feel that I was still alive"

 

I looked away. "You slept with her." I felt hollow inside.

 

"No!" he exclaimed strongly. He gently lifted my face to look at him. "No," he said more softly. With pain in his voice he continued, "You have to believe me when I tell you this. I did not sleep with her." He grimaced, "I probably would have if you hadn't called round when you did." He sighed. "I haven't slept with a woman since since I met you." He shrugged. "I just haven't wanted to. When you arrived at my door, I had a bad feeling. When you told me that you loved me, I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Here was the girl I loved telling me that she was in love with me and didn't I have some tramp in my bedroom?"

 

He shook his head sadly. "I ran out into the street after you and chased your car until I couldn't run any further. When I got back to my house, the girl had left." He took a deep breath. "I called at your house the next morning, but Gareth said you had gone away. I called everyone: Jools, Claire, Laura, Sony anyone I could think of. No one seemed to know where you were. I thought maybe you had gone away for a while to get over things but the weeks passed." He closed his eyes. "I felt like giving up on everything."

 

I pulled his hand to my mouth and kissed it gently. "I'm sorry, Jon, I'm so sorry. When I saw her in your flat in your bedroom I thought I was a stupid half-girl who had delusions that she could be loved"

 

He turned my face to his and kissed me with passion. When he broke the kiss I gasped for air. "What?"

 

He looked deep into my eyes. "You are not any sort of half-girl. Don't ever say that. Yes, I've been a fool and I couldn't seem to get over my stupid hang-ups, but I have now. I'm not going to pretend that I definitely won't ever have any difficulties, but one thing I know is that I love you and I want to be with you always."

 

I couldn't hold it back any longer and I felt tears roll down my face. "Oh Jon, I love you so much"

 

We kissed again and I slid round onto his lap so that I was facing him. I have no idea how long we kissed. Months of denied passion were bursting forth between us. I began to unbutton his shirt and gently kiss his wonderful strong chest. I felt his hand tentatively slide up my leg and I smiled at him encouragingly. His hand began to caress my backside and I kissed his neck, sliding the shirt from his shoulders.

 

He slowly raised his hand to my breasts and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I bit my lip and smiled. I nodded to him and he tenderly stroked them. I closed my eyes and revelled in the sensations that he was causing within me. He slowly began to unbutton my blouse and I nodded for him to continue. I slipped it off and smiled shyly as he looked at me.

 

He took a deep breath. "You're beautiful."

 

"Take my bra off if you want," I said bashfully.

 

"Do I want?" he asked with a smile. He reached round behind me and had difficulty unclasping it.

 

"You're out of practice," I said teasingly as I reached round myself.

 

"I plan to get a lot more soon," he said with a grin.

 

I unclasped my bra and let it fall from my shoulders. His breathing was deep and slow as my breasts came free from the cups. His hand was shaking as he lifted it to gently caress my bosom. I closed my eyes and it took all my self-control to keep me from moaning at his touch.

 

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this," he said softly.

 

I grinned. "Probably for as long as I've been wanting you to do it."

 

He laughed and leant forward and began to plant kisses on my breasts. I grabbed his head and cradled it in my hands, pulling him closer into my bosom. When I felt his tongue begin to encircle my engorged nipples, I let out a little squeal. I pulled his face from my cleavage and began to kiss him forcefully. Our tongues entwined together as we explored each other's mouths. We broke for air and Jon smiled at me and then dropped his eyes from my gaze.

 

"What is it?" I asked breathlessly.

 

He looked back up at me. "Can I take you to the bedroom?"

 

I bit my lip and then nodded hurriedly. He picked me up in his arms and I pointed towards the master bedroom. He carried me in, kissing me as he did so, and gently deposited me on the bed. He slowly began to roll down my tights and then unbuttoned my skirt and slid it off me. I suddenly realised that I hadn't told him about my reason for being in America. Perhaps he had been told, but surely he would have mentioned it. I didn't want to shock him like that so I sat up and unbuttoned his jeans and urged him to slide them off. I pushed him down on the bed and eyed the noticeable bulge in his shorts.

 

"Is that for me?" I asked with a coy grin.

 

"Completely," he said, mirroring my grin.

 

I lowered my hand and gently caressed him through his shorts. I saw him bite his lip. I slipped my hand into his waistband and began to slide the shorts down. He grabbed my hand. "You don't have to do this if you"

 

"I want to," I interrupted before he could finish. "You have no idea how much I want to."

 

He smiled and let go of my hand. I slid his shorts off and looked at him with awe. I gently began to touch him and from the sounds he was making, I knew that I was having some effect on him. I felt my love for him welling up inside me and my desire was driving me to do what I did next. I lowered my head and kissed his manhood.

 

"Cara," he said in a ragged voice, "I don't want you to do anything you don't want tuhhhhhh."

 

His voice trailed off as I slipped my mouth over his hardness and gently began to pleasure him. I was moved by my love for him and my desire to please him and before long, he was driven over the edge and he cried out as he came.

 

I tenderly cleaned him up and then slid up to lie beside him. He looked over at me with the most intense look I have ever seen. "God, how I love you," he said breathlessly. "I hope that wasn't"

 

"It was incredible," I said. "I wanted to do it and it won't be the last time."

 

It was like I had jolted him with a cattle prod as he jumped at my words. He gently rolled me onto my back and he sat up. He pushed the hair back from my face. "You have gorgeous hair," he murmured. "Your face is so beautiful and your lips so kissable." He traced his hand along my neck and stroked my breasts. "Your breasts are just awesome."

 

I grinned shyly. "You don't think they're too big?"

 

He laughed softly and raised an eyebrow. "Do you hear me complaining?" He shook his head and traced his hand lower. He tweaked my belly bar and smiled with a twinkle in his eye.

 

"You don't like it?" I asked. "I can take it out"

 

"I love it," he said. "I think it is very sexy."

 

I smiled and shyly asked. "You think I'm sexy?"

 

He chuckled and tenderly kissed me full on the lips. "Do you even have to ask?" He kissed me again. "I couldn't imagine finding anyone as sexy as you, lover." He looked down at my flat crotch and smiled lovingly at me. "Cara, I want to take off your panties and I want you to remove your chastity belt."

 

"Jon, I"

 

"Shush," he said gently. "I can handle this. I can."

 

"No, Jon, you don't understand. I'm not wearing my chastity belt."

 

His eyebrows shot upwards and he looked at me questioningly and then looked again at my flat crotch. I was about to try to explain but he just put a finger to my mouth and then he slowly slid my panties from me. When he saw what lay beneath his mouth dropped open and he just sat there staring.

 

"I was trying to tell you"

 

"That's why you came to America," he said in a dazed-sounding voice.

 

"Yes." I looked at him as he sat there almost dumbstruck. "I hope I hope this doesn't change things"

 

He looked down at me and blinked. He smiled. "Change things? Of course it does." When he saw my worried expression he quickly added, "For the better of course."

 

He lay down beside me and took my face in his hands. "Cara, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart and I was going to take you as you were. I had no idea" He sighed. "But this this is incredible. You're sure about what you've done?"

 

I laughed. "It's a little late now to ask that." I paused and looked at him fondly. "Yes, I'm sure. I did this for me. I know who I am and this was the logical step. It was for my own benefit." I paused and grinned. "Although, I'm happy if you also happen to benefit from it."

 

His face broke into a grin and he laughed as he kissed me on the nose. He stared into my eyes. "Cara, can I touch you?"

 

I smiled nervously and nodded. "Yes, I'd like that, but I'm not ready for you know."

 

He nodded. "I understand."

 

He lay beside me and I felt his hand slowly slide over my stomach and move lower down. I gasped as he touched me for the first time. He moistened his fingers in his mouth and then gently began to caress me.

 

"Is that OK?" he asked gently.

 

"Oh, yes," I murmured.

 

He continued to lovingly stroke me and then began to probe a little deeper. Up until that time, I had found the sensations associated with the necessary dilations to be quite unpleasant. This was different. This was the touch of my lover.

 

"Can I kiss you?" he asked tentatively and I knew what he was asking.

 

"P-please do," I stammered.

 

He slid down and lowered his head to plant kisses along my inner thighs. When I felt his tongue begin to explore my new womanhood, I gasped aloud and he stopped. "Do you want me to stop?"

 

"No, no, no!" I exclaimed.

 

He grinned and continued to softly lick and kiss me. The feelings were indescribable. I'm not saying that I was able to climax, but I hadn't had such stimulation for a long time. Perhaps ever.

 

After a while, I pulled his head up gently. "I'm not going to make it this time, lover," I said softly.

 

He grinned and slid up my body, planting kisses all the way up to my face. "Practice will make perfect," he said with a wink. He shivered. "It's cold in here, isn't it?"

 

I smiled. "Yes, and you look tired." I paused. "What do you say to getting under the covers and snuggling together? Maybe get some sleep?"

 

He smiled dreamily. "Sounds like a wonderful idea."

 

We shimmied under the covers and lay there in each other's arms contentedly.

 

"I can't believe this is really happening," I murmured.

 

"Believe it, my darling," he said softly as he gently kissed the top of my head. "I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep. Having you beside me is just so perfect."

 

Of course, given his exhaustion, he was asleep within minutes. I didn't mind. I smiled to myself, as I lay there in the darkness, his arms holding me close.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

I woke first the next morning and initially panicked that it had all been a glorious dream. The gentle sounds of Jon's breathing assured me that it was for real. I looked over at him as he slept peacefully and I couldn't get the smile from my face.

 

'He loves me,' I thought.

 

Trying not to wake him, I gently slipped out of bed and pulled on my dressing gown. I slid my feet into my slippers and crept out of the room. I figured that he would be hungry when he woke up. I had no idea when he had last eaten and, with events having overtaken us the previous night, I guess food hadn't seemed that important.

 

I took some bacon from the fridge and started to fry it up. I was beginning to scramble some eggs when I felt strong arms slide around my waist and lips kissing the back of my neck. I squirmed and smiled. "Jon, that tickles."

 

He whirled me around and kissed me firmly on the lips. He grinned. "I don't know what's better. Waking up to a sight as beautiful as you, or a smell like that bacon."

 

I laughed and gently poked him. "Hey!"

 

He grinned and tenderly kissed me again. "Forget that. Stuff the bacon and come back to bed with me."

 

I chuckled and fought him off. "Now, now. I'm sure you're starving. When did you last eat?"

 

He shrugged. "I have no idea what time it is, what day it is and I'm not exactly sure where I am. Yeah, I am rather hungry though."

 

I was hungry too and we both tucked into a hearty breakfast.

 

"Any regrets?" I cautiously asked when we were finished.

 

He smiled and grabbed my hand. "Only that we didn't get together sooner."

 

I grinned. "We've been fools for months."

 

"Doesn't matter now," he said. "We're together and that's the way I plan on keeping it."

 

I looked into his eyes. "You mean that?" I said breathlessly.

 

He gave a half-smile. "Cara, I already know that I can't live without you. I'll be with you for as long as you'll have me."

 

I couldn't keep the Cheshire Cat grin from my face. "You'd better plan on being around a long time then, mister."

 

He leant across the table and gently kissed me.

 

I knew there was something I had to tell him. "Jon about last night?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"I know that we were quite intimate"

 

"I'd say!" he said with a smile.

 

I smiled nervously. "I've been thinking about a lot of things recently and I don't want you to take this the wrong way."

 

He moved round beside me and put his arm around me. "What is it, Cara?"

 

I looked up at him shyly. "I've been changing a lot recently and one of the things that has changed in my life is the way that I want to live it." I went on to tell him the full story about my kidnapping, how I had prayed, and the way that things had worked out. I told him about my conversation with Nathan.

 

"You see, the thing is," I continued, "I had sort of decided that I was going to do things right. I know we were very intimate last night but I would like to wait before being intimate again and I'm not making any presumptions here but I want to wait until it's definite and final that I'm with the one and only" My voice trailed off. "If you know what I mean."

 

He smiled at me and I felt disconcerted. "What is it?" I asked.

 

He shook his head. "I understand totally. Believe me, I do. I'll not lie and pretend that I don't want you in that way, because I do. I'll wait 'til hell freezes over for you, Cara."

 

I laughed. "I'm glad to see that you haven't lost all your good lines." I became serious again and stroked his cheek. "Thanks for understanding."

 

He looked at me closely. "I hope you didn't do anything you didn't want to do last night. Or anything you weren't comfortable with?"

 

I shook my head. "No, I wanted to and we had to. We had to both know that we could be with one another in that way - if we're going to have a future."

 

He smiled and gently kissed me on the lips. "So I guess that means I'll have to wait before being able to fulfil one of my greatest dreams."

 

"What's that?" I asked suspiciously.

 

He chuckled. "Showering with you and soaping up your wonderful body."

 

"Jon Peters!" I gasped and I felt myself blush. Inwardly I tried to quell the arousal that his words provoked.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

After we got dressed Jon having diplomatically moved into the spare bedroom we sat snuggling together on the sofa. It wasn't the passionate encounter of the previous night, but no less enjoyable.

 

"Tell me," I said suddenly, "how did you know where I was?"

 

He grinned. "Ah, indeed. The billion dollar question." He looked at me dreamily and smiled. "I followed my heart and it led me to you."

 

I giggled and tickled him. "Come on, tell me."

 

"OK, OK," he laughed. "No one seemed to know where you had gone. I had thought that Claire might have. She was my best bet, but she denied all knowledge."

 

"She was lying," I interjected.

 

"I know that now. I was going crazy, and then Jools said that she had finally had a call from you. She wasn't able to persuade you to tell her where you were"

 

"Jools knew how you felt about me?"

 

"I told her everything when I couldn't find out where you were. I figured she did know, but wasn't telling me. I thought if she knew why I wanted to know that she would spill the beans. Anyway, you didn't tell her, but you did tell her who did know."

 

"Claire and Dad."

 

"Yeah, I phoned Claire again and asked her outright. I told her that I knew that she knew, but she wouldn't tell me. You'd told her about what had happened that night when you called at my place, so understandably she was reluctant to help me. I told her how I felt about you and she hesitated, but still refused to tell."

 

"So?"

 

He smiled ruefully. "She said that if I really wanted to know, I would have to talk to your father."

 

"Wow! And did you?"

 

He grinned. "I drove straight up to Cardiff and waited for your father to come home from work."

 

"You didn't!"

 

"I sure did. I didn't care what I had to do, but I knew I had to find you."

 

"What did he say?"

 

"He wasn't too thrilled to see me. Again I presumed this was after hearing about your meeting with me."

 

"Yeah, sorry. I may have given him a somewhat biased account."

 

"No matter, it was understandable. So I told him how I felt about you, and I explained all the things that had led up to it. Pretty much what I told you last night."

 

"You told my father all that?"

 

"Sure, I did, and more! It was the only way to convince him that I was serious."

 

"And he told you?"

 

"He did. He also said that if I did anything to hurt you, he'd teach me new levels of pain that I couldn't even begin to comprehend."

 

I laughed. "He did not!" The thought of my father making such threats was hard to believe. "I guess he's become quite protective of me."

 

"Not half. He adores you, you know."

 

I grinned. "I know."

 

"He's not the only one, you know."

I laughed. "Are you fishing for affection?"

 

"Anyone biting?"

 

I giggled, leant over and began to nibble his neck. He squirmed and wriggled and then managed to turn my face around to his. He kissed me softly.

 

"I've never felt like this about anyone before. It really almost scares me," he admitted.

 

I looked at him with love in my eyes. "I know - the feelings I've felt since last night I feel as if I'll never be able to show you how much I love you."

 

"We've got the rest of our lives to try." He looked out of the window where the light was beginning to fade. "Even if we haven't got much of this day left."

 

I suddenly jumped to my feet. "My goodness, I forgot." We had got up so late and had spent so much time in each other's arms talking together that time had passed me by. The others would have realised that I wasn't hitting the slopes that day, but we would usually meet up in 'Mountain Java' afterwards no matter what.

 

"What's wrong?" Jon asked with concern.

 

"I've got to meet my friends in the village."

 

"What friends?"

 

I briefly filled him in on how I had met the Scots and what I'd been doing the previous few days.

 

"Come on," I said as I pulled on my coat. "I want to introduce them to my new boyfriend." I winked.

 

He laughed. "Do I have to?"

 

"Yes, you do!"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

They were sitting at our usual table when we entered. I saw their heads turning when they noticed who was with me. I was holding Jon's hand and we walked over to them.

 

"Hi, everyone," I said brightly.

 

They greeted us with smiles that barely concealed the questions that they had for me.

 

"Err everyone - this is Jon."

 

They knew who he was, but Kirsty spoke up. "Is that Jon your guitarist, Nicola?"

 

I grinned like the cat that had got the cream. "No, it's actually Jon, my boyfriend."

 

I heard Jon make a noise that sounded like he had choked on his tongue, but he coughed and cleared his throat. "Hi everybody," he said with obvious embarrassment.

 

Kirsty grinned slyly at me. "And you said there was nothing going on between you two."

 

I shrugged. "Things change for the better."

 

I looked up at Jon expectantly and he laughed before lowering his face to give me a quick kiss.

 

We sat down and ordered our coffees. Although Jon was initially a bit overwhelmed, he soon began to relax and join in the conversation. I leant over to Craig and murmured, "Sorry, Craig."

 

He chuckled and shrugged. "If you ever get fed up with him, give me a call."

 

I grinned and shook my head. "Don't sit by the phone."

 

Robert was asking Jon if he had ever skied. He hadn't and didn't seem too enthusiastic about starting.

 

"Oh come on, Jon," I said. "I was reluctant at first, but it is an amazing feeling."

 

We eventually persuaded him to join us the next day. With this in mind, Jon and I hurried to get to the shops before they closed. I helped him pick out a jacket, ski trousers, and all the gear. We walked along Main Street, hand-in-hand, Jon carrying our bags.

 

I sighed contentedly.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Jon asked.

 

"How perfect it feels to be with you. Sorry if that sounds soppy."

 

He chuckled. "Say anything more like that and I'll show you soppy."

 

"Why, what will you do?"

 

He grinned. "I'll drop these bags right here on the pavement and give you a kiss that will make your knees buckle."

 

"You wouldn't!"

 

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Try me."

 

I did. "I want to feel your arms holding me forever"

 

He called my bluff and I think we attracted quite a few stares from our fellow shoppers. I didn't care.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

"What do you want me to call you?" Jon asked over breakfast the next morning.

 

I grinned. "Well, I had been toying with 'sex kitten', but I guess darling or sweetheart would do."

 

He chuckled. "Sex kitten, it is then. No, I mean do you want me to call you Cara or Nicola? The others in the caf yesterday were calling you Nicola."

 

I shrugged. "I don't really mind. I guess I'm sort of trying to separate out my private and my public life. You belong to both."

 

"Can I call you Nicola?"

 

I smiled. "Sure, you can."

 

We headed out onto the slopes after breakfast and I watched Jon go through the pain and agony that I had endured on my first day skiing. He was athletic and in good shape so it didn't take him too long to pick up the basics. By the third day, he was practically as good as I was and was just about managing the intermediate slopes. I was happy to stick at that level and had no delusions of winning any downhill slaloms in the near future.

 

It was wonderful to sit on the ski lift, my head leaning against his shoulder and to look down on the beautiful world below.

 

"Isn't life great?" he mused.

 

I grinned. "I don't think it could get any better."

 

He chuckled enigmatically. "Oh I think it could."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

He wouldn't answer.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

We took a day off from skiing the next day and, after each hiring a pair of sturdy hiking boots, set off to explore some recommended walks at the base of the peaks. We didn't walk that fast as we strolled along, arm-in-arm. Plus there were many breaks to enjoy the views. Most of the views being that of each other's face close-up as we kissed!

 

We came to a clearing in the woods and there was a frozen lake in the middle. A little open-sided wooden hut stood at the edge of the lake. We stood in the hut and gazed at the lovely scene. I noticed Jon shifting awkwardly where he stood.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked.

 

"Nothing," he grunted as he reached inside his pocket.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

He grinned and took my face in his hands before planting a kiss on my lips.

 

"Before your father would tell me where you were, I had to tell him something else that I wanted. Something I want more than anything. Something I haven't told you yet."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked.

 

He smiled at me and dropped to one knee. He opened his hand to reveal a ring. He looked up at me and with a look of longing in his eyes said, "Nicola, will you marry me?"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 48

 

 

I'm not sure how long I stood there. I was totally stunned. His words had taken me completely by surprise. I blinked furiously as my mind whirled. I looked down at him. He was smiling with a degree of uncertainty.

 

"Jon wow, this is quite sudden"

 

He squeezed my hand. "Nicola, I know it might seem that way, but I'm not taking this lightly or anything. I know for sure that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that being with you means more to me than basically anything else I can think of. I know that I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. Yes, we've only just been able to express these feelings to each other over the past few days, but I'm more certain of this than anything: I want you to be my wife. I don't want to wait too long either; we've wasted enough time this past year. I want to be with you always."

 

His impassioned speech brought a lump to my throat. I was overcome with emotion at the things he said to me. I felt as if the world was spinning and I didn't know what to say.

 

Jon slowly stood up and took me in his arms. He spoke gently, "If you're not sure and you want to wait that's fine. If you know for sure that you don't want to marry me, again that's your decision." He paused. "Please tell me what you're thinking."

 

I smiled at him and raised a gloved hand to his cheek. "Jon, this is just such a surprise. I don't know what to say. How long have you been thinking about this?"

 

He grinned. "I've thought about it a lot over the last number of months, but have been trying to deny that to myself. Since you told me that you were in love with me, it's been filling my thoughts night and day. I've dreamt about making you mine completely."

 

I smiled at him and gently kissed him. I felt the tears begin to escape from my eyes. "Yes," I murmured softly.

 

"Yes?" he asked anxiously.

 

"Yes, I'll marry you."

 

"Are you sure?" he said as his body tensed.

 

I laughed. "I haven't dared to let myself think about this, but deep down inside I know this is what I want. I couldn't think of being with anyone else. I guess this is happening quite fast, but if this is what we both want, then you're right, why wait?"

 

He smiled and took my face in his hands as he gently kissed me. It was a loving lingering kiss that lasted for several minutes. When we eventually broke the kiss, I grinned at him. "You have a ring for me?"

 

He laughed and took the ring again from his pocket. "I certainly do. Look, I picked it myself so if it's not what you want"

 

"It's gorgeous," I said breathlessly as I looked at it. It was a simple platinum band with a solitaire diamond embedded in it. "Will it fit me?"

 

He chuckled. "I did happen to check your ring size before buying it."

 

"How on earth did you do that?"

 

He shrugged. "Jools had some rings that apparently fitted you, so she let me use them to gauge your size."

 

I raised an eyebrow. "Jools knew that you were planning this?"

 

He grinned. "It was the only way I could think of to get the perfect ring for you."

 

"Does anyone else know?"

 

He shrugged casually. "Besides your father?"

 

"No way!" I exclaimed.

 

He laughed. "Of course he does. After all, I did have to ask him for permission to have his daughter's hand in marriage."

 

"I can't believe this. What did he say?"

 

"He was delighted. He wants you to be happy. He's quite a believer in the institution of marriage."

 

I smiled. "Yes, I guess he is. Wow, I can't believe this."

 

"Do you want to try the ring on?"

 

"Do I ever?" I pulled the glove from my left hand and held it out to him. He gingerly slid the ring onto my fourth finger. It was a little tight over the knuckle, but then moved into place. It was a good fit. I turned my hand one way and then another, inspecting the ring from all angles.

 

"Like it?" he asked softly.

 

I beamed at him. "I love it. It's perfect." I admired it again before looking up at him. "I can't believe this. We're engaged? We're going to be married?"

 

He chuckled. "You like the idea?"

 

I thought for a moment and then hugged him tight. "I love it. It just seems so incredible. Last week, I was just existing from day to day, not wanting to think about the future, but now I can't wait. It's like the clouds have cleared and the sun is shining brilliantly."

 

He pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head. "I know exactly how you feel. I'm sure it won't all be plain sailing, but I intend to give this my all."

 

"Me too," I murmured.

 

We walked slowly back to our condo, hand-in-hand, barely saying a word. I felt as if there was a new spring in my step. I was engaged to the man I loved!

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Back at the condo, we were getting ready to go out to dinner that evening. We had planned to meet the Scots at a sports bar called 'Downstairs at Eric's'. I had chosen to wear a warm black jersey dress. Jon, unsurprisingly, had finished getting ready before me and was sitting on the sofa waiting.

 

"Do you always take this long to get ready?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

 

I laughed. "That was quick, buster. You'd better be prepared to wait much longer in future." I smiled primly. "It takes time to look this good."

 

He chuckled. "You do look fantastic. What do you say we forget the others and you just come and sit by me here? I'm sure we'll think of something to do."

 

I grinned. "Jon Peters, have you only one thing on your mind?"

 

He nodded solemnly. "Yes, I do. It's you and you alone."

 

I sat down beside him and cuddled up close. "You say all the right things, but we do have to keep our dinner appointment. After all, I have to show off my ring."

 

"Bah, fiddlesticks!" he said good-naturedly. "I can't wait 'til we get married and I have you all to myself."

 

"What? You think you will just keep me locked up at home all the time?"

 

He laughed. "As long as I can be locked in with you."

 

We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments. I thought and then spoke up, "Jon, when do you want to get married?"

 

He looked at me and smiled. "I meant it when I said I wanted to marry you as soon as possible. If you wanted to, I'd be happy to jump on a plane to Vegas tomorrow and make it official. However, I'm imagining you wouldn't want to do it like that."

"You're dead right on that one. Plus my father would hardly approve."

 

"You want to do this properly? Church, white wedding, the lot?"

 

I grinned. "I think I do. I'm only planning on doing this once so I'd better make sure it's done right. Do you not want to do it like that?"

 

He kissed my nose. "Nicola, darling, I'm happy to stand up in front of the whole world and tell them that you are the one for me. I reckon my folks would be happier with a traditional wedding too."

 

His words made me stop and think. After a momentary pause, I said, "Jon, your family. We have to tell them the truth about me. Don't we?"

 

He shook his head. "We don't."

 

"But Jon"

 

"Shush," he said gently. "We don't," he emphasised, "because I already have."

 

My eyebrows shot upwards. "You've done what"

 

He smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "Once I found out where you were and had decided to come and tell you, I realised that if things went well I wanted to marry you. I didn't want there to be anything to stand in the way of that. I went home to my folks and told them that I loved you and wanted to marry you."

 

"What did they say?"

 

He shrugged. "They were over the moon. They think you're a beautiful, talented girl and Mum has been nagging at me for years to bring a nice girl home and settle down." He chuckled. "My little brother Mike was quite expressive at his envy of me. He thinks you're just the 'hottest babe around'."

 

I blushed and grinned. "What did you say?"

 

He laughed. "Why, I agreed of course." He became more serious. "I knew though that if things were going to move ahead, I'd have to tell them the truth. I wanted them to know from the start. I realise that I was breaking your confidence by telling them, but I hope you don't mind."

 

"What did they say?" I asked anxiously.

 

He shrugged. "At first they couldn't believe it. They thought I was pulling their legs. Then, when they realised I was telling the truth, they were shocked. I'm not denying that they found it hard to accept, but I told them I had come to terms with it and that I was in love with you."

 

"And?"

 

He smiled. "They'll come round. Mikey helped in his own way. He said that he didn't care if you came from Mars, he'd have you any day. I think he was quite taken with the possibility of having Cara Malone as his sister-in-law."

 

"They don't hate me?" I asked with concern.

 

He shook his head. "No, not at all. My parents are fairly conservative, but when I told them about everything that had happened to you and what you had been through, they were more sympathetic. When they meet you, they'll realise that we're doing the right thing."

 

"There's something to look forward to," I said dryly.

 

"Back to the original question," he said. "When do you want to get married?"

 

I smiled and leant close against him. "How long do you think it takes to organise a wedding?"

 

"I have no idea," he admitted.

 

I thought aloud. "Let's see, it's nearly the end of April. We don't have too much else to do how about getting married in June?"

 

He looked carefully at me. "You mean that? You're sure?"

 

I laughed and squeezed his thigh. "I'm sure. Besides, you're not the only one who is looking forward to becoming more intimate." I winked coyly.

 

He chuckled and grabbed me in a bear hug before kissing me. "I can't wait," he murmured.

 

I sat up straight. "There is one other thing we have to think about, Jon. I do need to tell you about this before we make any more plans. You have to know about this as it will affect you too if we are together" I went on to tell him about Simon's threat regarding the solicitor and the potential time bomb hanging over my head. He was shocked, but took it all in.

 

He gave a low whistle. "What are we going to do?"

 

I shrugged. "I've thought long and hard about it and there's only one real course of action I can think of." I outlined my plan to him and he was evidently shocked again.

 

He sat in silence for a few moments. "You're sure about this?" he asked.

 

I nodded. "Can you think of anything else?"

 

He slowly shook his head. "Not really. Nothing that would work for sure. This is quite a big undertaking though."

 

"Jon I'll understand if this changes things. I mean, if you don't want to"

 

"Stop right now," he said with gentle force in his voice. "I love you and I'm going to marry you. Nothing, but nothing will change that."

 

I smiled at him. "I love you too."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

We met my friends at the restaurant and we managed to squeeze ourselves around one table. Eric's was indeed downstairs and was the traditional American-style sports bar. It had a friendly relaxed atmosphere and certainly seemed to be a popular spot. It didn't take too long for my ring to be noticed. Of course that may have had something to do with the way I was flaunting my left hand around.

 

"Wow!" Barbara exclaimed, as she was the first to notice it. "Is that what I think it is?"

 

I smiled. "What do you think it is?"

 

Kirsty grabbed my hand. "That's an engagement ring for sure!"

 

I laughed and leant up against Jon who put his arm around me. "I guess we've a little announcement to make."

 

"No way," Kirsty murmured.

 

Jon nodded. "Yes way. Nicola and I are going to be married."

 

"Way to go, dude!" Robert held up his hand and Jon high-fived him and then the others guys in quick succession.

 

I was engulfed in a girl-hug as Barbara and Kirsty practically leapt at me from where they were sitting. For some reason, I found myself in tears again. Definitely tears of joy. There was something about sharing happiness that really multiplied it.

 

Everyone sat down again and the questions began. "When did this happen?" Barbara asked.

 

"This afternoon," I replied.

 

Jon interjected, "It's been on the cards for some time though."

 

Kirsty gave me a strange look. "When we first met you said there was nothing going on between you and Jon."

 

I shrugged and smiled apologetically. "We had some misunderstandings, but that's all cleared up now."

 

They all added their best wishes for our future together and drank to our health. I happily joined in their toasts, but with a non-alcoholic beverage for my part. I realised that I had to say something else though.

 

"Guys, I really hate to have to say this" I paused. "What we've told you tonight is still a secret. I do trust you, but I have to ask you all to keep this to yourselves. Please don't even tell your closest friends. Our friends and family don't know yet, and we'd rather tell them ourselves than have 'The Sun' inform them."

 

"You've nothing to worry about," Craig said. He looked around the group. "None of us will breathe a word about this, will we?" There was a series of heads shaking.

 

"Thanks guys, it's been great getting to know you all this past fortnight," I said with genuine sincerity. "I can't believe you're heading home tomorrow."

 

"Neither can I," groaned Keith.

 

"I must get your addresses before you go," I said.

 

"Why?" Robert asked.

 

I shrugged and grinned. "So I'll know where to send the wedding invitations."

 

Kirsty spluttered, her mouth half-full of wine. "You're serious? You're not having us on?"

 

I laughed and shook my head. "No, the more the merrier." I looked up at Jon. "You don't mind?"

 

He grinned. "I don't care who's there as long as you are," he said to me.

 

The others made gagging noises and we all laughed. We enjoyed a simple yet tasty meal. The conversation was good and the laughter was flowing. At the end of the meal, I saw Kirsty speaking to the headwaiter about something. She was nodding in our direction and I became instantly suspicious.

 

True enough, a few moments later my suspicions were realised. The D.J., who had been playing soft rock songs all evening, stopped and made an announcement. "Folks, it seems we've got something of a celebrity in our midst. A British singer, with whom you may be familiar, is dining with us, Cara Malone." From the ripple of noise that spread around the room, it seemed that some people did recognise my name. "I was just wondering if the lovely lady might want to share a little song with us."

 

I shook my head and gave Kirsty a mock-glare. The D.J. had a radio-mike in his hand and walked over towards me. "Miss Malone, would you care to take the stage?"

 

I smiled. "Oh I don't know that I could. I don't have my band with me."

 

"This looks awfully like your guitarist beside you," the D.J. persisted.

 

Jon chuckled. "If only I'd brought my guitar."

 

The D.J. clicked his fingers and a waiter brought a semi-acoustic guitar out and set it on the little stage. "Will that do?" he asked.

 

Jon looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged and laughed. "What the heck!"

 

There was a round of applause as Jon and I, hand-in-hand, headed for the mini-stage. Jon gently strummed the guitar and of course had to tune it to his liking. There were two high stools on the stage and we took one each. I pulled the microphone from the stand and smiled nervously. "Well, this isn't quite what I was expecting. My name is Cara Malone and I'm sure most of you have never heard of me." The protests from the crowd suggested otherwise. I laughed. "Anyway, we'll do a couple of songs and I hope you enjoy them. This first song is all about the fear of telling that special person in your life what you feel about them. Don't let the fear stop you from maybe missing out on the greatest love you might ever know." I looked over at Jon and he grinned at me. "Just tell them, all you have to do is 'Simply Say'."

 

Jon took his cue and began to gently pluck the introduction. As I sang the song, it was as if I were singing it properly for the very first time. I wasn't looking at the audience, I had eyes for only one person and he held my gaze all the way through. At the end of the song, the audience cheered and roared.

 

"Thank you so much, you're very kind." I smiled and pushed the hair back from my face. "This next song is another romantic one, I'm afraid. It's called 'Forgotten How to Love' and it's a reminder that we can get so caught up with the hustle and bustle of life that we can miss what is really important. Sometimes we don't realise it until it's almost too late."

 

Jon started us off again. There was something pure about the simplicity of the two of us sitting there him playing, me singing. For me, it was as if the rest of the room faded into the background as I again sang to the man I loved:

 

"Oh teach me how to love

Unleash your wondrous charms

Want to laugh and cry,

To soar and fly

Up onto Cloud Nine

And know you're mine

Hold me in your arms,

For I, I'm remembering how to love."

 

At the end of the song, I slowly leaned towards Jon and smiled shyly at him. He grinned and leant towards me. Our lips met. We held our kiss for a few seconds and then broke again. The audience went wild and were roaring and whistling furiously. "Thanks so much. I'll not interrupt your evening any more. Good night."

 

As we walked from the stage, again hand-in-hand, there were calls for an encore, but I decided it was better to leave them wanting more. The D.J. thanked us and kindly gave us a good plug for our album. When we sat down, the others congratulated us.

 

"Nicola/Cara whatever, you were fantastic," Barbara gushed.

 

I laughed and waved a hand at her. "Now stop that, you'll give me a complex."

 

Craig spoke with a wistful-sounding voice, "You two are great together. It's so obvious you're meant for each other."

 

I patted his hand and smiled. "Thanks Craig."

 

At the end of the evening, there was a mega-round of hugs and kisses. We said our goodbyes and there were a few tears, well from the girls anyway. Jon and I walked back to our condo, his arm around my shoulders. We had decided to head back to Denver and get the next plane back to the U.K. It was time to re-enter the real world.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

As we approached Cardiff, I began to fidget more and more.

 

Jon noticed and chuckled. "Nervous?"

 

I laughed. "Yeah, too right I am. I've never ever brought a girlfriend home to Dad, let alone a boyfriend or even a fianc."

 

He grinned. "Worried that I might not be up to scratch?"

 

I shook my head. "No chance of that. At least he's already met you. I shouldn't even be nervous since you told him what you were planning, but I can't help it."

 

We had landed in Gatwick the previous morning and had each gone to our own houses to get some rest. It had been so strange to be apart from Jon after having spent so much time with him. The way my heart ached for that short time that we were apart only served to confirm that what we were doing was right. I'd received a near-royal welcome from Gareth and Mrs. Pantridge. I had been evasive as to what I had been doing. I simply told them that I had been enjoying a relaxing holiday in the Rockies.

 

Jon had picked me up early that morning. With it being a Saturday, we expected to find my father at home. Jon pulled into the drive in front of my father's house. He leant over and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Ready?"

 

I nodded and we got out. Before we even got to the door, it swung open and my father came rushing out. He threw his arms around me and nearly knocked me off my feet. "Nicola, honey, are you OK?"

 

I could hardly breathe. Eventually he loosened his grip on me sufficiently for me to draw breath. I chuckled. "I'm fine, Dad. Pleased to see me?"

 

He shrugged with some embarrassment at his display of emotion. "I missed you and I was worried about you," he said. He turned to face Jon and extended his hand. "Hello again, Jon."

 

"Hello sir," Jon replied politely, shaking my father's hand.

 

We went in and sat down in the living room. For a few moments we sat there in an awkward silence. My father gave a wry grin. "I'm assuming that there's something you have to tell me, given the way you're holding each other's hands and from that little something I see sparkling on your finger, Nicola."

 

I blushed and smiled. "Yes Daddy Jon and I are engaged to be married."

 

He sat for a moment without speaking. He nodded slowly and smiled. He got up and walked over to me. I stood with some uncertainty. He hugged me tightly again and murmured, "Congratulations." He loosened his hold on me and held my elbows. "Are you happy? Are you sure about what you're doing?"

 

I nodded. "Yes, I've never been happier and I'm absolutely sure this is what I want."

 

He took this in and grinned. "Good." He turned to Jon and after a somewhat stiff handshake, he awkwardly hugged Jon. "You take good care of her, son, do you hear me?"

 

"Yes sir, I will," Jon assured him.

 

My father chuckled. "It seems that after losing a son, I'm to get a replacement by marriage and I've gained a beautiful daughter too."

 

After a short phone call to Claire, my father informed us that she was driving up immediately. All he had told her was that I was home. Apparently she hadn't known about Jon's full intentions.

 

Her arrival after lunch was like a whirlwind striking the house. She rushed in and hugged me fiercely. I felt sure that my body was going to be broken in two with all this hugging. As girls do, she immediately noticed the ring on my finger. My sister was too sharp to have to even ask what the explanation was, she knew. She squealed and hugged Jon and I. The look of surprised fear on Jon's face was priceless.

 

After she calmed down and had extracted as much of the details from me as I was prepared to share, she turned the topic of conversation to another item.

 

"So Nicola you're now complete?"

 

I knew what she was asking. I smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am. It's all done. I feel good. I do have one question for you Claire."

 

"What?"

 

"Do you fancy being a bridesmaid?"

 

Her response was predictably over the top.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

We spent the rest of the day with my father and Claire. That night, Jon stayed with us. I bunked in with Claire and Jon took my room. On Sunday morning, we all went to church. I think Jon felt a little uncomfortable, but Llandaff Methodist was a welcoming little fellowship and he soon began to relax. My father was proudly telling anyone that would listen that his youngest daughter was engaged to be married.

 

After the service, Jon and I took Nathan aside and I asked him if he would do us the honour of conducting our marriage ceremony. He initially showed some reluctance and expressed concerns regarding the legality of our proposed marriage. I could understand this. I assured him that if he took things at face value, there was no legal contraindication to us proceeding. He was somewhat reassured and began to come round to the idea. The date was set for Saturday the twelfth of June and Nathan confirmed that the church was available.

 

After church, Jon and I set out for Merthyr Tydfil. This strange-sounding little town in the north of the Taff Valley was about a forty-five minute drive from Cardiff. It was also the town in which his family were currently living. Jon's father was the headmaster of the local comprehensive school, which had a name that, despite my Welsh heritage, I could barely spell let alone pronounce. We had arranged to join them for lunch and to spend the rest of the day with them.

 

I was nervous, incredibly nervous. Jon commented on my fidgeting as I sat in the passenger seat beside him, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

 

"I can't help it," I complained. "What if they hate me? What if they think I'm disgusting, taking their son from them and so on?"

 

He laughed and shook his head. "Firstly, they will think no such thing. Yes, sure they may be a little uncomfortable at first, but when they meet you; I know they will like you. Secondly, if they did take such exception to you then it's their loss and we'll carry on regardless. Relax, it will be fine."

 

"How do I look?" I asked distractedly as I checked myself out in the vanity mirror. I was wearing a simple red dress that came to just above the knee.

 

"You look gorgeous, trust me."

 

I grinned at him. "I think you're biased."

 

He chuckled. "You've got that right, but I'm also correct."

 

We pulled up outside Jon's family home and as I got out of the car, I thought I was going to be overwhelmed by the apprehension I was feeling. This was worse than going on stage before thousands of screaming fans. Jon sensed my discomfort and gently took my hand and held it in his as we walked to the front door.

 

After one ring of the doorbell, the door opened. It was Mrs. Peters. I hadn't seen her for years. As a child, before Jon's family moved away from Pembroke, I had often visited their house to play with him. I still recognised his mother. I had always liked her as a child.

 

She looked a little flustered but gave us a nervous smile. "Oh hello, Jon. This must be Cara?"

 

I gave her the best smile I could manage. "Hello, Mrs. Peters."

 

"Call her Nicola," Jon said. "She's not on stage now and she prefers her real name."

 

"Alright then, Nicola," his mother said. "Err come in, both of you."

 

We followed her in and were shown into the sitting room. Jon's father, a tall thin balding man with a salt and pepper moustache, stood up from where he had been sitting. He moved awkwardly towards us.

 

"Jon," he said, shaking his son's hand.

 

"Dad, this is Nicola, my fiance," Jon said, looking him in the eye.

 

His father flinched a little at Jon's words, but regained his composure. He turned to me and gave a half-smile. "Nicola, it's a pleasure to meet you. Jon has told us so much about you."

 

I resisted the urge to wince and managed to give a wan smile. "Hello, Mr. Peters." We shook hands awkwardly.

 

"Now, why don't we sit down? Dinner will be ready shortly," Mrs. Peters said cheerily.

 

We sat and there was silence for a few moments. Jon's mother spoke into the void. "So you're getting married?"

 

I smiled and nodded. "Yes, Jon asked me to marry him when he came to see me in Colorado."

 

She nodded and I saw her face twitch a little. "Yes, he had told us about his intentions. I'm assuming you said yes you really love Jon, then?"

 

"Mum," Jon protested.

 

I put a hand on Jon's arm. "It's OK." I turned back to Mrs. Peters and regarded her honestly. "Yes, I love him more than I can say. I've been in love with him for about nine months now, but we were only able to admit this to each other recently."

 

I noticed Jon's father's eyes narrow a little. I continued, "I know this must seem very strange for you, but I want to assure you that I'm not here to steal your son or to do anything strange. There are a few things that I am sure of: one is that I am a woman, and another is that I love your son. When I was when I was held captive recently, the thought of telling Jon how I really felt about him and the possibility that he might feel the same way was one of the few things that kept me going." My voice trailed off and Jon squeezed my arm.

 

I saw his mother's expression soften a little. She spoke gently, "Jon told us about what you went through. It sounded awful. You've been through quite a lot, even leaving aside your kidnapping, and although I find much of it hard to understand, I admire your fortitude."

 

"Thank you," I said and flashed her a warm smile.

 

She gave a half-laugh and shook her head. "My, this is so strange. Jon, this girl obviously loves you, do you feel the same way?"

 

I looked up at Jon. He grinned at me and slipped his arm around my shoulders. "Mum, you have no idea how much I love her. I can't believe the feelings I have for her. I used to ask you how I would know when love was the real thing. You used to tell me that I would just know, remember?"

 

She smiled. "I remember. You were always frustrated when I said that."

 

He nodded. "I was, but you were right. I just know: Nicola is the one I love and I couldn't think of living without her."

 

Jon's father spoke up, "I can't get my mind round this. Can't I just pretend I don't know what you told me about her and take things at face value?"

 

"What do you mean, Dad?" Jon asked.

 

He sighed. "She's a beautiful woman, there's no denying that. You two love each other and want to get married. If I think about this too much, it will drive me round the bend. You love her and she loves you. I want you to be happy, son, and if this girl is the one that you think will bring you that happiness well, that's good enough for me." He paused and grinned at me. "Welcome to the mad Peters family, my dear."

 

I smiled at him and, following a strange impulse, got up from where I was sitting and walked over to him. He stood up, looking a little puzzled and I opened my arms. He chuckled with embarrassment, but opened his arms and we hugged gently. "Thank you, Mr. Peters."

 

He shrugged. "You're welcome, Nicola. I may be an old-fashioned man, set in my ways, and your story may be the strangest that I've ever heard, but who am I to deny you two the joy you're obviously finding together?"

 

I turned to Mrs. Peters who stood up and smiled as she opened her arms. "Come here, Nicola."

 

She hugged me warmly and I reciprocated. I blinked hard and felt a few tears escape. "Thank you so much," I murmured.

 

Jon joined in the round of hugs and we had all just regained our composure and sat down again, when we heard the front door opening.

 

"Ah, here comes trouble," Jon's father remarked good-humouredly.

 

The sitting room door opened and a young man breathlessly asked, "Is she here yet" His voice tailed off as he saw Jon and I sitting together.

 

He grinned bashfully. "Uhh that's a yes, then."

 

I smiled and stood up. "You must be Michael, I presume?"

 

He stood there, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on me. "Uhh yeah, call me Mike."

 

I walked over to him and opened my arms. "I'm Nicola Evans, your soon-to-be sister-in-law."

 

He looked dumbfounded, but managed to open his arms for me to hug him. I planted a little kiss on his cheek. "It's great to meet you at last," I said with a coy smile. "Jon has told me so much about you."

 

"He has?" he said with bemusement, his face colouring.

 

Jon spared him further embarrassment. "Good to see you, little bro."

 

The brothers hugged and I saw Mike give Jon a subtle high-five as he winked.

 

Mrs. Peters turned to me. "Our Michael has quite a high opinion of you, Nicola."

 

"Mum," Mike protested. He shrugged awkwardly and murmured, "I just said that Jon had all the luck."

 

Mr. Peters chuckled. "I think I remember words to the effect of 'how come my brother gets to marry the most gorgeous girl in the country'."

 

Mike raised a hand to his eyes and groaned. Everyone laughed. I put a hand on Mike's arm and he almost jumped at my touch. "Thanks, Mike," I said. "I think you've exaggerated a lot, but I'm flattered."

 

Jon slid his arms around me. "Exaggerated? Nah, he's just telling it as it is." Jon turned my face to his and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I was shocked at this display of affection in front of his family, but I think that Jon wanted to show them the depth of our feelings for one another.

 

"If you two can prise yourselves apart for a moment, perhaps we could eat dinner," Jon's mother said dryly.

 

I felt a little more at ease, and the conversation over dinner was more relaxed. I was aware of Mike stealing surreptitious glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I tried not to smile. Mrs. Peters, having gotten over her initial discomfort at meeting me, had slipped into true mother mode: she was dying to know what plans we had for the wedding and insisted that we keep her in the loop.

 

Jon and I set out for London after tea. I felt a lot happier and the earlier tension had faded. I curled my legs underneath me on the seat and lay back.

 

"I think that went well," Jon said.

 

I grinned. "It did. At first, I thought it was going to be awful." I paused. "Your folks are good people."

 

He chuckled. "Of course they are. They raised me, didn't they?"

 

I swatted him lightly on the arm. He laughed and continued, "Mikey has such a crush on you. He was practically green with envy."

 

"Jon!" I protested. "You shouldn't embarrass him, and me, like that."

 

He shook his head. "I'm enjoying it. Mikey always used to go on about how his girlfriends were far prettier than any of mine and how he was the good-looking one in the family." He grinned. "I think I've shut him up forever now."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

The next morning, Jon picked me up and we drove over to Jools' place. I hadn't spoken to her since we had arrived back in the U.K., as I wanted to surprise her in person.

 

She opened the door. "Cara!" She flung her arms around me. "It's so good to see you again. I was beginning to think that you would never come back from wherever you were."

 

We went upstairs and sat down on the sofas. "So what have you been up to all this time?" Jools asked.

 

I grinned and waved my left hand airily. "Oh this and that, you know."

 

She spotted the ring and gasped. "Is that what I think it is?"

 

I looked at the ring as if seeing it for the first time. I feigned confusion. "I don't know - do you want to take a closer look?"

 

She scuttled over to sit beside me and took my hand in hers. She looked up at me and then to Jon. "Well?"

 

Jon grinned and slid his arm around my shoulders. He said, "Jools, are you doing anything on the twelfth of June?"

 

She smiled. "No, do tell me why though."

 

"Nicola and I are getting married and we were hoping you would be able to join us."

 

Jools squealed and practically jumped on top of both of us. She put her arms around us and pulled us close to her. "Is this for real? This is awesome. I knew it. I knew you two were made for each other."

 

I laughed. "Yes, Jools, as much as it pains me to say it, you were right again."

 

She kissed me on the cheek and looked into my eyes. "Are you happy?"

 

I beamed at her. "You have no idea."

 

We talked about how Jon had found me and gave her the censored version of what had happened. She drank it all in and kept prompting for more and more details. I told her about my surgery and she nearly flipped again. I thought for a moment that she was going to ask to see the results, but I think she caught herself just in time.

 

Jools filled me in on what she termed the comparatively boring details of my career the things that had happened whilst I was away. U.S. sales of my album were steady and, although it hadn't taken the States by storm, it had certainly made an impact. Sales in the U.K. and Europe had been pleasing and the financial benefits were certainly nothing to be sneezed at.

 

Jools winked slyly. "You poor little lovebirds. However will you manage to pay for your wedding with the paltry joint income and assets you have?"

 

I laughed and tickled her. "I've a more pressing concern regarding the wedding."

 

"What's that?" she asked.

 

I shrugged. "Claire's agreed to be my chief bridesmaid. Jon's brother, Mike, is going to be best man, and we're going to ask Brian to be Jon's groomsman. That means that we need another bridesmaid"

 

Her eyes widened and she looked like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Eventually she managed to squeak, "And?"

 

I grinned and put her out of her misery. "Jools, would you be a bridesmaid for me?"

 

Her earlier reactions to the news I had already told her paled into insignificance. She jumped all over me and hugged me furiously.

 

I managed to fight her off. "I take it that's a yes, then?"

 

She laughed, tears rolling down her cheeks and said, "I'd be honoured."

 

She managed to calm down and we sat down at the table to enjoy a cup of coffee.

 

"Ca Nicola," she began. I had told her about my preference of names. "If you are organising a wedding it will be a big undertaking. I was thinking that you might need some help. Say from someone who has a certain flair in the realm of organisation"

 

I laughed. "Jools, like most things in my life, I couldn't imagine how I could do it without you."

 

Jon winked and with a sly grin said, "There certainly are things you will be doing without her." He nuzzled on my neck and then looked up and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 49

 

 

I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom in my father's house. Although I was looking in the mirror, my mind was miles away. I had been thinking back over the previous eighteen months of my life. When I remembered what life had been like before before my change, it seemed like a faded memory of a dream. It was as if my previous life was not quite real. I don't know if it was psychological or not, but when I recalled previous memories as Nick, they seemed to be in jerky black and white in my mind. The memories since I had become a woman were played back in full-blown, widescreen Technicolor. Sure, I could still remember a lot of events from those earlier days, but I realised that my life had been little more than a nondescript series of failures for several years. Yes, there were highlights and I smiled as I remembered back to meeting Jools and the times we had spent together. In contrast, the last eighteen months had been a whirlwind of major life events: both good and bad.

 

Before, as Nick, I could probably have counted on one hand the people that I counted as good friends. Now I would have to write a list and would still worry that I had missed someone out. The people that had enriched my life passed before my mind's eye and I smiled to myself at the fond memories: Paul, Sam, Charlie, Aaron, Herby, Kate, Gina, and the Scots. The list of close special friends was something I treasured: Jools, Beth, Laura, Brian, Kevin, Peter, Rachel, and Gareth. Then there was my family; my smile grew wider: Dad, Claire, Aunt Vera, Dawn and Phil.

 

My smile faded in intensity for a brief moment as a wave of sadness passed over me. I remembered that most special friend of all that can never be replaced: I saw my mother's face in my mind and I had to blink hard. I remembered her with joy, fondness and the assurance that she was in a better place a place in which one day I would see her again. Finally my mind turned to the most special person in my life: my soon-to-be husband, Jon. The feeling of love, desire and anticipation that flooded through me nearly made my knees buckle.

 

My eyes refocused on my reflection in the mirror. I shook my head slowly as I could hardly believe my eyes.

 

My wedding dress clung to my figure. The two thread-like shoulder straps were barely noticeable. The fitted bodice did a marvellous job of containing my ample bosom and the flowing narrow ivory skirts descended to the floor in waves of shimmering satin. My hair had been exquisitely styled as it swirled up in shiny tresses that were gathered on top of my head. A few wisps of curly ringlets seemed to escape from the top of my head and descended to frame my face.

 

I don't think I had ever seen my make-up done better; Beth had excelled herself. Who else would I have got to arrange my hair and make-up for the most important day of my life? She had commandeered a local salon, for a price of course, and had spent hours with me that morning. A fresh all-over waxing session; washing, drying and setting my hair; cleansing, moisturising and making up my face I had thought that I would never be ready. She had brought me back to the empty house and helped me into my dress, stockings and matching high-heels. I had then been left alone as she returned to the salon to work her magic on Claire and Jools, who had been taken there by my father. I think even he was scheduled for a quick tidy-up trim of his hair.

 

My reverie was disturbed by the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs. Voices drifted up from below, but I just stood there and looked at myself. Was this really happening?

 

"Admiring yourself?" Claire said teasingly from the doorway.

 

I turned to face her and spotted Jools behind her. "Guilty, I'm afraid," I said with a smile.

 

They hadn't seen my finished appearance until now. "Goodness gracious," Claire murmured as she came into the room, Jools following. "You look" Her voice trailed off and she frowned momentarily. "I can't imagine the words required to describe you?"

 

"That bad?" I said with a twinkle in my eye.

 

"Divine," Jools said emphatically. "That's about the only way to describe you."

 

Claire nodded. "That's about right."

 

I looked at them. They were wearing their matching lilac bridesmaid dresses. Aside from the colour difference, they were of a similar style to mine, with just a slightly shorter and less ornate skirt. Their hair was styled beautifully and their make-up flawless.

 

"You two look amazing," I said sincerely. "Don't go showing me up today, you hear me?"

 

Claire chuckled and moved to one side of me. Jools stood at my other side.

 

"Rubbish," Jools said softly. She gently turned my head back towards the mirror. "There's no one who could show you up at the best of times, let alone today."

 

I tried to make some noises of protestation, but Claire slid her arm around my waist and hushed me.

 

"Nicola, I've come to accept the fact that my sister is by far the better-looking one in this family."

 

"Claire" I protested again.

 

"No, seriously," she interrupted. "You are beautiful and I'm not going to let you deny or dispute that. In fact, I want to hear you say it yourself."

 

"Come on, Claire, you're embarrassing me."

 

Jools chipped in, "No, she's right. Let us hear you say it."

 

I looked at them both. I saw their resolute gaze and sighed. What hope did I have? I smiled shyly, looked into the mirror, and softly said, "I am beautiful."

 

I felt a warm glow spread throughout my body. It was the dream I would never have thought to imagine when I was younger. It was every girl's dream and now it was mine: to be a beautiful woman marrying the man she loved. I thanked God for the privilege of being allowed to live that dream. Claire and Jools gently hugged me.

 

I laughed nervously. "It's just a fluke of genes, some dodgy hormone receptors in my system and a little bit of prompting in the right direction from my friends."

 

Claire squeezed my arm. "Do you really think it was a fluke?"

 

I smiled and shook my head. "No, I believe this was the way I was meant to be."

 

"We'd better go downstairs, Jools," Claire said. "The limo will be here for us any moment." They air-kissed me and wished me luck. As they headed out of my room, Claire turned and looked over her shoulder. "There's a rather nervous gentleman downstairs who is waiting to see what his daughter looks like."

 

I chuckled. "Tell him I'll be down in a moment. I'll see you both shortly."

 

A few minutes later, I heard the front door close as Claire and Jools left to be driven to the church. I took one last look at myself and then went downstairs. I took it slowly, as I couldn't see my feet and descending stairs in my heels was somewhat precarious. I quietly walked into the living room where my father was looking out of the window, his back to me. I coughed gently and he turned to me. His eyes widened as he took in my appearance and he smiled broadly.

 

"Hi, Daddy," I said shyly. "Do I look OK?"

 

He shook his head slowly and grinned. "OK? No. Breathtaking? Most definitely." He walked over to me and took my manicured hands in his. "I've only ever seen such a beautiful sight once before in my life"

 

We both turned our gaze to the photo that hung on the wall. It was taken more than thirty years previously and showed my handsome father as a younger man in a dapper suit, beside my mother in her wedding dress. We both had a sharp intake of breath.

 

"It's incredible, isn't it?" he mused.

 

I nodded and murmured, "I can hardly believe it."

 

Yes, the style of dress may have been different, but the likeness was uncanny. My father smiled at me. "I know you think that Claire was always the one I was more proud of"

 

"Daddy, no, that's not right," I interrupted.

 

He held a finger to my mouth. "I know you thought that and perhaps in recent years I haven't been as encouraging to you as I should have been. I want you to know that today, as I look at you, I can't imagine that there is a prouder father in the whole of the world. I know that if your mother were here, she would be the only one who could maybe feel prouder than I do at this moment."

 

I swallowed hard and blinked several times. In a husky voice, I croaked, "Daddy thank you but please stop or my mascara will be running all over my face." I paused and after ensuring that I had control of the excess moisture in my eyes, softly said, "I love you."

He gently hugged me. "I love you too, Nicola." We held each other for a few moments before he broke the embrace. "I have something for you."

 

I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What is it?"

 

"I'm sure Claire told you not to worry about a necklace today as she would sort it out."

 

I gasped, "Yes, but I forgot, and she's gone now"

 

He chuckled. "Don't worry. She was covering for me. I've got just the thing for you." He reached into his pocket and lifted out a string of pearls. He held them in his hand as if they were fragile and, looking at them with longing, murmured, "Your mother wore these on the day we were married" He paused and then looked up at me. "These are yours now."

 

I raised a hand to my chest and swallowed again. "Daddy, I don't know I can't"

 

He smiled and nodded. "You can. She would want you to wear this and to have it." He moved behind me and gently fitted the necklace around my neck and closed the clasp at the back. "Perfect," he said.

 

I looked in the mirror over the mantelpiece and had to agree. It matched the pearl drop earrings that Jools and Claire had given me earlier that morning. I turned back to my father and smiled. "I don't know what to say"

 

"Don't say anything," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "or I'll be blubbing like a baby. I'm determined to get through this day without crying as hard as that may be."

 

We were both spared from tears by the honking of the horn from the limousine that had pulled up outside our house.

 

"This is it," my father said. "Time to go; are you ready for this?"

 

I smiled and nodded firmly. "More than ready."

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

During the short drive to the church, my father and I sat in silence in the back seat of the limo, holding each other's hand. My mind recalled the previous few weeks leading up to the wedding. It had been a frenzy of organisation. Aunt Vera had helped me to pick my wedding dress, Claire had helped with the bridesmaids' dresses and Jools was her usual amazing self as she organised the invitations and guest list. My father had insisted on helping me choose and book the reception venue.

 

Jon and I had spent a lot of time together. Actually, we had rarely been apart and had grown so much closer as the weeks had passed. We had visited his family at least once a week so that they could get to know me and, as time had gone on, I felt more at home with them and I think the feeling was mutual. Mr. Peters had admitted to me that he had always wanted a daughter and that he was delighted that I was to be the next best thing. Jon's mother seemed happy to have some female company within the family for a change. None of them, including Mike, ever said another word about my past it was loving acceptance.

 

My father and Jon had also got to know each other better. Jon had accompanied us to church most Sundays, which pleased my father. Jon became more comfortable with the church and was very impressed with Nathan. The two of them had shared some deep conversations and I felt that Jon was beginning to move in the same direction as me, spiritually speaking.

 

Although Dad liked Jon and was happy to have him as a future son-in-law, there still was this father-daughter thing that created a slight reticence in their relationship. No father can fully welcome the man who is going to take his daughter from him, no matter how suitable that man may seem.

 

The guys in the band had been delighted to hear our news and Brian was chuffed to be asked to be Groomsman. Laura was thrilled and couldn't stop herself from a round of 'I told you so' when she had heard. Rachel gave me a huge hug and whispered into my ear how pleased she was that things had finally worked out for Jon and me.

 

I wasn't so foolish as to think that Jon and I could quietly get married without the media finding out. Jools had drafted a statement that was released to the press and the resultant phone calls, enquiries and requests for interviews had been overwhelming. Of course, the tabloids had the usual speculative gossip: since we were arranging the wedding quickly, could it be that Cara Malone was pregnant? I had eventually agreed to do some interviews, mainly on daytime TV chat shows. There was little pretence that the interviews were about my music as the hosts very quickly moved to focus on my impending marriage. I didn't really mind as, to be honest, I was happy to spend all day talking about it to anyone who would listen.

 

"Here we are," my father murmured as the car pulled up outside the church.

 

There was a lightning storm of camera flashes as we got out of the car. The media had a substantial representation outside the church. In fact, due to the level of general public interest, the police had closed off the road to normal traffic and several officers were present to control the ever-growing mass of spectators. The cheers and whistles from the crowd were overwhelming. Although I was used to it when performing on stage, this was something more: they had come to see me because of who I was. I did my best to smile at them and wave. My father and I stopped for a brief moment to let the press photographers take their pictures.

 

Jools had recommended that we try to facilitate them: keep them happy and they will report generously. One thing on which we were all agreed was that the press weren't allowed inside the church save for one member who had been invited personally. To help enforce this point, Gareth was doing his impression of a wall at the front door of the church. He winked at me as he stood aside to let us enter.

 

"Looking fantastic," he murmured to me.

 

I smiled my thanks at him as we entered the vestibule where Claire and Jools were waiting for us. Claire handed me my bouquet and squeezed my arm.

 

"Ready, sis?" she asked.

 

I nodded and smiled. "More than ready."

 

Our ushers were Kevin, Phil and Jon's cousin, Charlie. Charlie had been very good about the whole thing. I had been worried that he might have felt bitter, but he really was a lovely guy. Jon had had a chat with him and Charlie said that although he envied Jon, he was happy for us and would be glad to help out in any way. I smiled at the guys and Phil slid into the back of the Church to give Nathan the sign that we were ready.

 

I heard the strains of the Wedding March begin on the organ Peter was playing for us. Jools and Claire slowly began the procession up the aisle of the Church. When they reached the front, they stood to one side and I began to walk slowly, arm-in-arm with my father. The church was resplendent with wonderful flower arrangements Aunt Vera had handled those details.

 

I could feel the eyes of the congregation all fixing on me, but the smiles that accompanied their gaze helped me to feel more at ease. I turned my eyes to the front of the church and I saw my groom. He was standing tall with a proud smile on his face as he watched me proceed up the aisle. He was wearing a full morning suit: tails, dress shirt, cravat, top hat and gloves in his hand. In that moment I thought that he was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. We arrived at the front of the church and I smiled at Jon. His grin widened. As we looked at one another, it was as if there was no one else present.

 

"Hey you," he mouthed silently.

 

"Hi," I mouthed back.

 

The music stopped and we turned our attention to Nathan standing in front of us.

 

"Dearly beloved," Nathan began with a warm smile on his face. "We are gathered here today, in the presence of God, to celebrate the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Llandaff Methodist Church welcomes you all: family and friends of Jon and Nicola. Let's remain standing and sing our first hymn: 'Love Divine All Loves Excelling'."

 

The church was filled with the voices of all present. I tried my best to sing, but was almost too overcome with emotion to manage it. I had chosen this hymn. I knew it would be emotional, but it wouldn't have been right to omit it. I saw Jon looking down at me with a concerned smile.

 

"I'm OK," I mouthed silently.

 

After the first hymn, Nathan prayed and then introduced the Bible reading. Beth read from 1 Corinthians 13 a wonderful passage about love. If you aren't familiar with it, you are missing out. My heart quickened as I realised it was time for the Marriage Ceremony.

 

"Would the congregation please stand," Nathan requested. Once everyone was on their feet, he continued, "If there is anyone present who knows of any reason why this man should not be joined to this woman in holy matrimony, then let them speak now or forever hold their peace"

 

There was an agonising pause and it seemed as if the whole congregation were holding their breath. I certainly was. Thankfully there wasn't a sound.

 

Nathan smiled and looked down at Jon and me. "Christ calls you into union with him and with one another. I ask you now in the presence of God and this congregation to declare your intent."

 

Jon and I lifted our right hands to each other and held them together as Nathan had instructed us in the practice.

 

He turned to me. "Nicola Jane Evans, will you have this man, Jonathan Richard Peters, to be your husband, to live together in a holy marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

 

I smiled at Jon and squeezed his hand as I said, "I will."

 

Nathan turned to Jon. "Jonathan Richard Peters, will you have this woman, Nicola Jane Evans, to be your wife, to live together in a holy marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

 

Jon grinned at me and boldly spoke out, "I will."

 

Nathan smiled and held up his hands. "In the presence of God and these witnesses, I now proclaim you to be husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let man not separate." He gave us a little wink. "You may kiss the bride."

 

Jon turned to me and, with an intense look of longing, lowered his face to mine. He gently kissed me, but lingered for more than a moment. There was a buzz of appreciation from the congregation.

 

We turned back to Nathan. He grinned. "Traditionally, the marking of the passage to the status of husband and wife is marked by the exchange of rings. These rings are a symbol of the unbroken circle of love. Love freely given has no beginning and no end, no giver and no receiver for each is the giver and each is the receiver. May these rings always remind you of the vows you have taken."

 

Jon turned to Mike who dutifully produced the rings. He set them onto Nathan's open Bible. Jon took my ring and I held out my left hand. He gently slid the ring into place and then I did likewise for him.

 

"You may all be seated," Nathan instructed.

 

He delivered his message to us and, although I can't remember everything he said, there were some words that struck home.

 

"Jon and Nicola, you are starting out on a long journey, but you are no longer alone. You have each other. I'm going to say a shocking thing now. Marriage is best if it is a threesome."

 

There was a murmur that spread around the congregation like a ripple across a pond. I thought that I even heard a little titter.

 

Nathan smiled. "I thought that would get everyone's attention. I'm sure if you think about it, you will work out where I am going. I want everyone to imagine a piece of cord. Could you cut a piece of cord? Well, yes, of course you could. Now imagine two pieces of cord entwined together. Would it be stronger? Yes, it would, but you could still cut it. Finally think of three pieces of cord woven together. This would be much more difficult to cut. I am reliably informed that using three strands makes the strongest rope and if you think of a standard rope, most likely it has three strands." He paused. "What am I getting at? Jon and Nicola, you want to have a strong, lasting marriage. If so then hear the words from Ecclesiastes chapter 4: 'Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken'."

 

He looked around and let his words sink in. "Jon and Nicola, what I am saying is very simple. If you want to have a true lasting marriage where you continue to love one another above yourself, there is someone you have to put first in your lives, even above each other. A true Christian marriage is one where Jesus Christ is present. If He is not part of your union, then when the troubles come as they will, when the initial glow of newfound love and romance fades which it will, then can you be sure that your marriage will hold fast? Add the third strand of Jesus to your marriage and you will be sure. Put Him first, each other second and yourself after that."

 

His words were a challenge to us and they were made all the more potent by the gracious manner in which he brought them to us. When he had finished speaking, he introduced the second hymn: 'Be Thou My Vision'. Jon and I had picked it as it had the loveliest Celtic tune accompanying the magnificent uplifting words.

 

It was then time for the signing of the register. Peter played 'Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring' while Nathan orchestrated the signing. At this point, with me seated and Jon standing over me, I motioned to the one member of the press who had been invited. Keith Wilkinson, dressed in a smart black suit, bashfully got up from his seat and came forward. He had to be his own photographer, but he had said that he wouldn't mind. He took a few photos of us as we smiled for the camera, before he slunk back to his seat.

 

With that done, Peter moved into Clarke's 'Trumpet Voluntary' with great gusto. Jon and I stood together, my arm through his and we led our wedding party down the aisle. Our guests were all standing and smiling. There were multiple camera flashes. I didn't have to force a smile for the cameras; I couldn't keep the smile from my face. Outside the church, there were even more photographs.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Eventually we managed to make our way through the throng outside the church and get into the limousine. It was a relief to escape the crowds and have some time to ourselves as the car drove off. We were partitioned off from the driver and could talk in privacy.

 

Jon slid his arm around me. "You look gorgeous, Mrs. Peters."

 

"Mrs. Peters," I purred. "I like the sound of that."

 

"Do you?"

 

"Oh yes. I think I'm going to like being Mrs. Peters."

 

"I know I'm going to like you being Mrs. Peters."

 

I leant my head against him. "I can't believe we're married. Is this a dream?"

 

He chuckled. "If it is, let's never wake up."

 

"It's a deal," I agreed.

 

Jon pulled me closer to him. "I'm sorry, Nicola, but I'm going to have to kiss you. I can't control myself any longer."

 

I giggled and turned my head up to look at him. He brought his lips to mine and we kissed, long, lingering and gentle. His hand stroked my cheek. He murmured, "When I saw you walking up the aisle, I just thought that I was the luckiest man in the world."

 

I grinned. "No, you're wrong."

 

"Huh?"

 

I tried to keep a straight face. "When we are alone tonight in our room then you will think you are the luckiest man in the world."

 

The look on his face was priceless. He laughed. "Tell you what, how about we blow off this reception lark and head straight to our room and you can show me just how lucky I am?"

 

I laughed with him. "Sounds like a good idea, but we can't disappoint our guests."

 

He sighed. "I suppose you're right."

 

"Besides, don't you want to have our slap-up meal? Aren't you hungry?"

 

He waggled his eyebrows. "I'm only hungry for one thing."

 

We laughed and kissed again.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Despite what Jon had said, we both thoroughly enjoyed our wedding reception. The photo session became a little tedious towards the end, but otherwise it was great fun to get the fancy photos taken with our family and friends.

 

During our meal, which was sumptuous, a string quartet played and the atmosphere was wonderful. I couldn't eat that much and, surprisingly, Jon didn't seem to have much of an appetite either. He claimed he was nervous about having to give a speech.

 

The speeches were great: moving, yet humorous. My father gave the first speech, as tradition demanded. He paid a wonderful tribute to me that nearly had me in tears. He talked about how proud he was of me and my achievements. In fact, I did end up in tears when he mentioned that the only sad thing about the day was that my mother wasn't there to share it with us. He choked up too and quickly proposed a toast to us.

 

Jon stood up to take the floor. I felt nervous for him. "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of my wife and I" The applause and cheers interrupted him. He grinned and continued, "I'd like to thank you for being able to share what is the most special day in our lives. Thank you also for your great generosity in the gifts you have given. Nicola and I have been overwhelmed by your kindness."

 

He paused and changed the subject. "If anyone had told me a year ago that today I would be standing here married to this wonderful woman, I simply would not have believed it. In fact, if someone had told me this even just four months ago, I would have found it incredible." He smiled down at me. "If the truth is told, I think I fell in love with Nicola the first time I met her, but it took me a long time to wake up to this fact." Jon probably didn't realise it, but those friends of ours who didn't know the truth about me and who knew that Jon and I had been childhood friends would have thought this was a lovely romantic tribute to childhood sweethearts. I knew what he meant though, and it was all the more special to me.

 

"I've had a few girlfriends in the past and I hope that my brother's speech will have been censored in that regard" He winked at Mike sitting beside him. "but I've never known anyone who has driven me as crazy as Nicola." He smiled at me. "That's a compliment, in case you were wondering. For the past year or more, I've been besotted with you."

 

He looked around the room. "Those of you who know us well will have been wondering what took us so long to realise what you all seemed to know for so long. During this time, our love for each other was growing even if we both tried to deny it. When Nicola finally told me how she felt for me, I could hardly believe it." He hesitated. "We've had a few misunderstandings along the way, but I want you all to know this: we both love each other deeply and couldn't imagine our lives apart." There was a gentle chorus of 'Aww' that spread around the room.

 

Jon looked down at me. "Nicola, I want the whole world to know how much I love you and that I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you."

 

I blinked hard as I smiled at him. "Thank you," I mouthed silently.

 

He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it affectionately before looking back to the guests arrayed in front of us. "We both want to record our thanks to our parents who have shown us what it is to live together in loving marriages and have brought us up in an atmosphere of love and encouragement. We wouldn't be the people we are today if it weren't for you."

 

I glanced across at my father. There was a certain irony in Jon's words when applied to me, but they were true nonetheless. My father smiled back at me.

 

"We want to thank all our friends we couldn't ask for better friends and we'll try to find some room in our lives to have time for you but not for the next two weeks as Nicola and I will be otherwise engaged." There was a laugh from the room as most people had a fair idea what Jon was implying.

 

"Last, but by no means least, I want to propose a toast to the women in this room who are the most beautiful but one." He turned to Claire and Jools. "One of you will be the sister I never had, and the other sometimes feels like an extra mother." The guests roared and Jools flushed, but kept smiling. "Seriously, I know how much you two mean to Nicola and we both want to thank you for your support, not only today, but especially in the last year and a half. Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses to the bridesmaids."

 

We toasted them and Jon gladly sat down. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. I leant over and gently kissed him. I didn't care that the whole room was watching us. "You were great," I murmured and he smiled back at me.

 

Mike stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the bridesmaids can I thank my brother, Jon, for his generous comments." He paused and grinned. "There is an old tradition regarding the Best Man at a wedding. It declares that if, for whatever reason, the Groom doesn't turn up, it is incumbent upon the Best Man to dutifully step up and marry the Bride." He shook his head wistfully. "I know he's my brother, but I couldn't help praying today that he might have a last minute change of mind and decide not to show."

 

There was a roar of laughter at his words. "What I'm trying to say is that my brother has got himself an incredible woman. Am I jealous? Perhaps a little. I've gotten to know Nicola over the last few months and she's not what you would expect for a world-famous rock star."

 

I blushed and cringed at his words, but he winked at me as he continued. "You see, she's even uncomfortable with me talking like that. Before I knew her, I just fancied her from afar as she is undeniably beautiful in appearance. What I realised as I got to know her is that she is a lovely person who has been through a lot to get to where she is today." He turned to Jon. "Bro, you're a lucky man." He smiled at me. "Nicola, as much as it pains me to say it, your husband is a great guy. I've known him all my life and I'm never going to admit to saying these things, but, Jon, you've been a great example to me and I hope to follow such an example particularly if it leads to me finding someone half as wonderful as Nicola."

 

The guests laughed, but Mike held up a hand. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, before you get all mushy on me, let me say that my brother was not always perfect."

 

Jon groaned and everyone laughed again. Mike chuckled. "I did have some great stories to tell, but Mum censored a few of them." Mike theatrically tore up several sheets of paper and more laughter ensued. "However, there are few that I can share with you" He went on to tell us a number of embarrassing, but amusing stories about Jon as he was growing up.

 

When he had finished, it was Mr. Peters' turn to speak. He was brief and to the point. He expressed his delight at Jon eventually settling down. "Jon, son, we both know you've found yourself someone special. This girl of yours - actually I should say, this wife of yours - is a unique woman: love her forever." He looked at me. "Nicola, I'm delighted to welcome you into our family. I know I may be biased, but I can assure you that your husband is a great man. He's someone you can rely on, someone who will do all within his power to look after you, he's someone I've been proud to watch grow from a boy into the man he is today." He paused and I saw that his words had deeply affected Jon.

 

He cleared his throat and continued. "Yes, my wife and I are delighted to finally have the daughter we never had all that leaves now is for us to wait for grandchildren! Thank you." He sat down and everyone laughed as they applauded.

 

I smiled at Jon. It was a smile tinged with sadness and this was reflected in his eyes. Although his father was only joking, there was a certain sorrow in knowing that we could never have children together. Don't get me wrong I hadn't suddenly become all broody and mother-like, but, like most people, my thoughts for the future had always included having a family.

 

There were a few impromptu speeches from the floor, wishing us all the best and the like. Mike then wound up the proceedings and the guests began to mingle around. Jon and I circulated together and tried to get talking to everyone that we could. We had a few gifts for those who had especially helped us regarding our wedding.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

To say that we had no evening activity planned for our wedding day would not be quite correct. We had plans, but they didn't include the rest of our guests so we had decided to forgo the traditional after-wedding dance. Jon and I slipped off to the room that had been designated for us to change in.

 

Once inside the door, Jon grabbed me and pulled me to him. He kissed me passionately. When I eventually managed to breathe again, I chuckled. "Hey Romeo, save it for later. We're not done yet. Let's get changed and then leave this joint so we can be together alone."

 

"It can't come soon enough," he said.

 

We changed out of our wedding outfits. It was with some sadness that I realised I would never again wear my wedding dress. I almost chuckled to myself. I had always imagined getting married, but who would have believed that I would have ended up wearing that beautiful dress?

 

I noticed Jon's eyes on me as I stood there in my underwear.

 

"Hey, Peeping Tom, what are you looking at?" I teased. "Aren't you supposed to be getting changed too?"

 

He laughed. "I can't help it. When the most beautiful woman in the world takes her clothes off in front of me, what do you expect me to do?"

 

I grinned and blushed. "I don't know, if you ever meet her and she does that, we might find out."

 

He smiled. "Stop you being modest."

 

"Well, stop you flattering me then."

 

"Never!"

 

I giggled. "Get dressed would you?"

 

I changed into a cream, sleeveless short linen dress. I had a pale blue fitted jacket that I pulled on. Jon changed into a smart long-sleeved shirt, white chinos and a navy blazer.

 

"You look scrummy," I said in a sultry voice.

 

Jon laughed. "You make it sound like I'm something to eat."

 

I raised an eyebrow and smiled a flirtatious smile. He laughed and I saw him redden a little.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

We made our way downstairs to say goodbye to our guests. We sought out our families. There were hugs and kisses all round, not to mention a few tears. I hugged my new 'Mum and Dad', Mr. and Mrs. Peters.

 

"You two have a wonderful time, you hear me?" Mrs. Peters said as she hugged me tightly.

 

"We will," I assured her.

 

I found Jools and Claire behind me. I hugged each of them fiercely. "I love you both so much," I murmured. "Thanks so much for all you've done for me."

 

We all had tears in our eyes. Claire kissed me on the cheek. "I love you too and I love having you as my sister," she whispered.

 

"So Nicola," Jools began. "Where are you going on your honeymoon?"

 

I frowned. "He won't tell me. He says it's a secret."

 

She raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you get a clue by asking what type of clothes you'd need?"

 

I flushed and nodded. "Yeah"

 

"Well?"

 

I smiled with embarrassment and spoke softly, "He said that I wouldn't be needing any clothes at all."

 

They both gasped and laughed. Claire teased me, "No prizes for guessing how you're going to spend the next fortnight."

 

I felt as if my face was beetroot-like. I chuckled. "Well, what did you expect?"

 

When I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned around and saw my father standing behind me. I instinctively hugged him. He held me close, his arms around me.

 

"You be careful, sweetheart," he said into my ear.

 

"I will, Daddy," I replied.

 

He held me at arm's length and looked fondly at me. "I'm going to miss you."

 

"I'll only be away for a fortnight and it's not as if you'll never see me again."

 

He shrugged. "I know, but it's the end of one era and the beginning of another."

 

We hugged again and as we said our goodbyes, we both became a little moist around the eyes.

 

Finally, Jon and I managed to extract ourselves from the well-wishers and got into the limousine again. We wrapped our arms around each other and let the crowds witness a passionate kiss. There were cheers and roars from outside the car as we drove off.

 

We were planning to spend the next two nights in the honeymoon suite of an exclusive hotel just outside London. The journey passed quickly as we talked over our memories of the day. We also spent a fair amount of time with our lips in close contact with each other.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Jon gallantly did what was expected of him as he carried me across the threshold of our Honeymoon Suite. It was luxurious and spacious, but we didn't really care about that. As soon as the door closed behind the bellboy, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me with urgency.

 

I managed to extract myself from his grasp. "Not so fast, Sunshine," I said with a smile. His face fell. "Don't worry; all good things come to him who waits."

 

"I've been waiting long enough," he said, sounding petulant.

 

I giggled. "I just want to change into something more comfortable. Can you give me five minutes?"

 

He grinned and shrugged. "Sure, but don't expect to be wearing your comfortable things for too long once I get hold of you."

 

I grabbed one of my bags and secreted myself in the bathroom. I quickly took off my clothes and found what I needed in my bag. It may sound corny, but it was our wedding night and I was planning to make the most of the opportunity. I dressed in silky black lingerie: matching bra and panties, suspender belt and sheer black stockings, and I pulled on a flimsy negligee. I quickly touched up my make-up and brushed my hair.

 

I opened the door and looked around for Jon. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with an expectant grin on his face. I slowly sauntered out and the grin fled from his face. It was replaced by a look that I'm afraid I can only describe as lust. I paused and smirked. "Like what you see?"

 

He slowly stood and a smile spread across his face. "Do I ever?" he replied breathlessly.

 

He started to advance towards me, but I held up a hand imperiously and commanded, "Stop right where you are."

 

He looked puzzled, but did as he was told. I grinned coquettishly and sashayed towards him. I stayed out of his reach and walked around him. His eyes never left me.

 

In a sultry voice I said, "You're wearing too much. Get rid of your socks and shoes."

 

He didn't need to be told a second time and within a few seconds he was standing barefoot. I walked closer to him and smiled. "Hands to yourself for now."

 

He chuckled and seemed happy to comply. I reached up as if to kiss him, but simply air-kissed him in front of his lips. "I still need to see more," I said as I began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

 

"Nicola, I have to say that I'm getting mightily turned on by this," Jon admitted.

 

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't say." I smirked. "I should hope so because that's my intention." I had finished unbuttoning his shirt and I pulled it from his body before unceremoniously dumping it on the floor.

 

I stood back and appraised him, letting my eyes roam up and down his body. He looked a little self-conscious, but didn't protest. I shook my head. "Still wearing too much."

 

I moved closer again and this time I unbuttoned his trousers. He gasped involuntarily. I slowly slid the trousers down his legs and he stepped out of them. His arousal was evident. I stood up and feigned confusion. "What's this?" I asked as I pointed in the direction of his shorts.

 

He grinned. "That's your fault."

 

"It's my fault, is it?" I said, trying to keep a straight face. "Then I suppose you want me to do something about it?"

 

"I err I" He couldn't find any words.

 

I stepped in and slowly pulled his shorts down. I gently touched him and he trembled a little. "Why don't you sit down on the bed?" I murmured. He did so and I knelt down before him.

 

"Nicola," he began, as he stroked my cheek. "You don't have to I mean, I want to make love to you."

 

I smiled up at him. "I want that too, but I want you to stay the course with me. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm thinking that, at the moment, you're not likely to star in the endurance field if you know what I mean."

 

He grinned ruefully. "You're probably right, but you don't have"

 

"Shush," I interrupted. "Remember Colorado?"

 

He rolled his eyes. "Every day since then"

 

I broke in again, "I enjoyed it. I want to do this, so unless you didn't like it first time round" I left the sentence unfinished and Jon had no reply.

 

I lowered my head and began to show him how much I loved him. As predicted, it didn't take too long before nature took its course. He moaned and then lay back on the bed. I scurried up beside him and kissed him.

 

"Nicola," he said breathlessly. "I love you you're incredible."

 

I giggled. "I take it you enjoyed it?"

 

He propped himself up on one elbow. "I think you can safely assume that. Now come here!"

 

He slid his arms around me and we kissed with gentle passion. His hands caressed me all over my body and I could feel myself becoming more aroused at his touch.

 

He paused for a moment and winked at me. "You're the one wearing too much now." He eased me out of my negligee and expertly unclasped my bra. I raised a questioning eyebrow. He grinned and shrugged. "I've been practising that manoeuvre in my mind." He then slowly slid my panties down my legs until I could kick them off. He looked up and down my body with an expression that looked like awe. His hands slowly found their way to my breasts and he began to knead them softly. He planted little wet kisses over them and swirled his tongue over my nipples. I lay back on the bed and practically purred with pleasure at the sensations he was evoking within me. He moved lower until he could plant the same kisses over my inner thighs. He was teasing me, just staying out of reach of where I wanted him to go.

 

"Jon, please," I pleaded.

 

He smiled up at me and complied with my request. The feel of his mouth, lips and tongue drove me crazy as he gently but persistently explored.

 

Before too long, I took his head in my hands. "Jon, stop, please."

 

He looked up and smiled questioningly.

 

"I want you to make love to me now," I said softly. "That is, if you're ready"

 

He sat up and what I saw removed any doubts as to his readiness. He slid up my body and lovingly kissed me on the lips. "This is what I've been dreaming of for so long," he murmured.

 

"Me too," I whispered, "but hold on just a moment."

 

I slid out from underneath him and ran over to my bag. I took out a tube and squirted it over my hands. I went back to him and lay down again. I looked up at him and smiled apologetically. "I need to use some lubrication." I lowered my hand to his lower regions and asked, "May I?"

 

He chuckled. "Please do."

 

At the touch of my hands, his breathing quickened. I applied the same to myself and then smiled. "I'm ready now."

 

He entered me slowly, watching me all the time. He gradually pushed until he was fully inside me. He smiled down at me. "Are you OK?"

 

I smiled and nodded. "It's a little uncomfortable. Can we just stay like this for a moment or two?"

 

He nodded and began to kiss me. The discomfort soon began to ease and I couldn't believe the feeling of closeness I was sharing with him. I knew that we couldn't get any closer to each other in physical terms and I loved it. "Make love to me, husband of mine," I whispered.

 

He smiled and looked at me with intense desire. "My pleasure," he said.

 

He began to move in and out and the sensations that I started to feel were exquisite. He was gentle and took his time, occasionally asking if I was alright. I assured him that I was and told him to stop asking and keep going. He seemed happy with that. I don't know how long we made love for - time was irrelevant. I pulled him as close to me as possible as we kissed and explored each other's mouths and faces with our tongues.

 

Eventually I sensed that Jon was moving towards a climax and he suddenly wrapped his arms around me and kissed me hard as his body shuddered over and over again. After a minute, he rolled to one side, but remained inside me. We lay there, cuddling for some time.

 

"I love you," he said.

 

"I love you too," I replied.

 

He shook his head and smiled at me.

 

"What?"

 

He shrugged. "That's the first time I've ever made love."

 

I was puzzled. "But I thought you've"

 

He held a finger to my lips. "I've had sex before and I might have thought I was making love but I've just realised what it is to really make love."

 

I beamed at him and kissed him on the nose. "Then I guess we've both just lost our virginity properly."

 

After mustering ourselves for a repeat performance and carrying it through to its wonderful conclusion not that I managed to make it to the finish line myself, but I didn't really mind we fell asleep in one another's arms.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

When I opened my eyes late the next morning, I saw Jon smiling at me as he lay at my side. I blinked the sleep away from my eyes and grinned.

 

"How long have you been lying there watching me?" I asked.

 

He chuckled. "Not long enough." He kissed me. "Did I die last night and go to heaven?" he asked.

 

I laughed and poked him. "If you did you'd better be prepared to die every night from now on."

 

He gave a mock-frown. "You mean I have to wait 'til night time?"

 

I giggled. "I doubt it as I don't think I could wait 'til then."

 

He raised his eyes to the ceiling and smiled. "I think my wife is insatiable."

 

I laughed. "When it comes to you, my lovely husband, you'd better believe it."

 

He smiled and winked. "Do you remember in Colorado when I told you about one of my fantasies?"

 

I instantly knew what he was talking about. "The shower?"

 

He raised an eyebrow. "You remembered?"

 

"I've thought about it every day since then," I confessed.

 

"Really, and why is that?"

 

I smirked. "Want to turn fantasy into reality?"

 

A wide grin slowly spread across his face. Suddenly he jumped up. "Last one there has to be the soap monkey."

 

I shrieked as I chased him to the shower. I was the last one there, but he relented and said that he would pretend that I had won after all he wanted to get his soapy hands on my body.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

I'm not ashamed to admit that we didn't cross the threshold of our suite that whole day. Room service were our only visitors and food wasn't the major goal of our appetites. The love that we had for each other was cemented through physical intimacy as we openly explored each other's needs and desires.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

CHAPTER 50

 

 

I unlocked the front door of my house and then gasped as I was grabbed from behind. Jon swept me up into his arms and proceeded to carry me across the threshold.

 

I laughed. "How many times do you think you have to do this? Our hotel, our honeymoon and now this?"

 

He grinned and shrugged as he gently set me on my feet in the entrance hall. "I'm not sure how many times it is called for, but I want to make sure I don't miss any opportunities." He winked. "Actually, it's just any excuse to get my hands on your lovely body."

 

I chuckled and batted my eyelids. "Honey, you don't need any excuse."

 

"Ain't dat da truth, Babe," he replied in an awful American drawl.

 

I sighed and looked around. "It's good to be home."

 

"Isn't it?" he agreed.

 

I turned to face him and I put my arms around his neck. "You sure you're happy enough about us moving in here and calling this place home?"

 

He smiled. "Of course I am. It's a great house. Don't you know I only married you so I could move in here?" He paused and I was about to berate him when he winked and continued, "So I could move in here and share the house of my dreams with the woman of my dreams."

 

I shook my head and grinned. "Lucky escape there, buster."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? What was going to happen to me?"

 

I smirked. "I was going to grab you and imprison you in my in our bedroom."

 

He sniggered. "Sounds like our honeymoon all over again."

 

"Hey!" I protested. "I wasn't the one who was always looking to do you know what."

 

"No?" he countered. "I could have sworn you were."

 

I tapped him on the chest. "It was you. I think I'm going to have to call you Mr. Horny."

 

He inclined his head. "Then I think that makes you Mrs. Horny."

 

I met his gaze with a deadpan expression on my face. Then I smiled and nodded. "We're a great match, aren't we?"

 

He pulled me into an embrace and kissed me. "Unbelievably so," he murmured. He waggled his eyebrows. "Want to show me our new bedroom?"

 

I bit my lip and grinned as I took his hand and led him up the stairs.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

Our honeymoon had been fantastic.

 

Jon had taken me to the Maldives. He hadn't revealed our destination until we had been about to check in for our flights. We hadn't stayed at any ordinary resort either: Jon had reserved an exclusive mini-island solely for the two of us. It was only about two hundred by fifty metres in size and was connected to a nearby larger island by a quaint wooden bridge. He had refused to tell me how much it had cost, but I knew that it had to be horrendously expensive to stay there. We'd had a luxury cabin to ourselves the only accommodation on our little paradise island. Meals from the main resort on the larger island had been delivered on request and we'd also had a daily maid service from there. Apart from that, we had been totally alone and it was wonderful.

 

Jon had surprised me with another aspect of our stay. Apparently he'd been entirely accurate when he'd said that I wouldn't need any clothes with me. The island we were staying on had been designated as a 'naturalist' island, if you know what I mean. Suffice it to say that with an ocean-facing beach protected by a ridge of palm trees down the middle of our island, we'd enjoyed total privacy. I had been shy at first, but we had soon got used to our Eden-like experience.

 

Initially I had been worried that, with no other human contact, we would have run out of things to say to each other, but it wasn't a problem. That wasn't just because a lot of our activities didn't require any talking although that did take up a fairly significant amount of our time. We revelled in getting to know each other completely and fully in every way. I'm not going to go into more detail, but let me simply say that the memory of tenderly making love on the beach with the warm waves lapping against our feet as the red sun slipped towards the horizon will stay with me forever. Perhaps also because it was the first time that I experienced the climactic joy of well, I'm sure you get the picture.

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

I woke up the next morning and rolled over to look upon my sleeping husband. I slid my arm around him and snuggled contentedly against him. The rhythm of his deep breathing almost had me falling asleep, but then he stirred and rolled towards me. His eyes popped open and he gave me a sleepy smile.

 

"Hey you," he murmured.

 

I kissed him on the lips. "Morning, my husband."

 

He smiled widely and stretched. "Are we living a dream?"

 

I nodded and grinned. "It feels like it, doesn't it?"

 

We lay there in each other's arms without speaking for a few moments.

 

Jon broke the silence. "So, what's next?"

 

"What do you mean?" I asked lazily.

 

He shrugged. "Our unfinished business"

 

I grimaced and sighed. "Yeah, I guess we have to return to reality, don't we?" I rubbed my eyes. "It shouldn't be too much longer. Not much more. I reckon a week should see it done all caught up and finished."

 

"How long did they say it should take once you are finished?"

 

"About a month, maybe six weeks."

 

He nodded. "That still gives us plenty of time."

 

"Yes, but we'll have to talk to a number of people during that time. Give them a heads up."

 

He chewed his lip. "Some people won't be sure we're doing the right thing."

 

"Are we wise, Jon?"

 

He looked closely at me. "It's up to you really. What do you think?"

 

I sighed. "I can't go on with a shadow hanging over me. We've got a wonderful new life ahead of us, in so many ways. I don't want to make this decision alone as it will have a big impact on you too."

 

He pulled me close to him and cradled my head in his arms. "I'm one hundred percent with you. I always will be."

 

I rolled over and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you so much, Jon."

 

"I love you too and I know just the way to show you."

 

I raised an eyebrow innocently. "You do? Well what are you waiting for?"

 

 

----------*----------

 

 

So, dear reader, this brings us to the end of my story. I had come to realise that I wouldn't be free to live my life with the potential threat of exposure at any time. Moreover, I had also come to understand that the new person I had become demanded that I be honest about whom I was and who I am. Perhaps in a way I had Simon to thank for being the catalyst to aid us in this decision. His 'Sword of Damocles', which lay hidden with a solicitor that we had no hope of finding, was the stimulus to the work I had been doing over the past few months. It was the only way I could envisage to blunt his sword.

 

What the public reaction will be, I cannot foretell. What the impact will be on any career that I may be left with, I do not know. I fully expect that many of you will criticise me for different aspects of what I have done. Some may do it in public; many may do it in private. I am sure that some will say that I have said too much and been too explicit at various stages whilst others will demand that more should have been revealed.

 

I can assure you that what you have read is an accurate representation of what has taken place leading up to where I am today. There is one detail in my story that is necessarily fictitious, but that is not to hide something about myself: it is to protect others. At their request, I have not made clear the true origins of one essential aid to my transformation. If you can work this out, well and good; if not, do not fear as it doesn't change the substantive details of what took place and who I am. For the most part, the names are real. Where a person has so requested, names have been changed.

 

No matter what anyone may say, I know that I can honestly declare that in what I have written, as in my music, I have given that which is encapsulated in the title of this work, my autobiography: 'No Half Measures'.

 

 

THE END.

 

 

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[ Authors endnote: Phew! Thats it at last. Writing this story has been a pleasure for me and Id like to thank the tireless efforts of the webmistresses who take the time to work so hard that we authors can share our work with all of you. Thanks for bearing with me all this time. I have a potential sequel in mind for these characters which is set ten years after the events of NHM. However it may take me that amount of time to work up the stamina to write it! ]