Your Wish Come True (revised): Chapter 17 - Passion free porn video

Your Wish Come True by Pol Roger Chapter 17 Passion "Happy families are all alike. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Tolstoy "DO you want to go for a hot chocolate or something after school?" Sam had asked Mandy that morning. They were heading to morning tea with the throng of students after the School Mass for the end of Lent Term. The whole school had attended in the Abbey Church, with the abbot himself celebrating with about eight of the monks 'concelebrating' (as Mandy now knew). It had gone on for just over an hour, and Sam had played the big pipe organ for a lot of the music, alternating with another student. For one or two pieces he had turned pages while one of the monks played. There was also a little orchestra of about thirty students that played at various points, as well as a student choir. Mandy had found it surprisingly enjoyable, and most of the students seemed to be quite engaged. (Not like when I was in school. The first time, that is, she noted.) "Sorry, Sam. I have to go with my guardian to see the solicitor straight after school. In Chancery Lane. She's picking me up." "Oh, okay." Sam seemed a bit crestfallen. "Are you still going out tonight? I could give you a call later. What time will you get back? You haven't forgotten you're coming over tomorrow, have you?" Sam was worried he wouldn't see Mandy again until next term. Mandy had accepted the invitation to the party tonight, and she was really looking forward to it, for some reason her anticipation growing by the minute. Sam clearly didn't know about the party. She wondered whether or not she should tell him, given his feelings about Gemma. She wanted to stay friends with Sam and didn't want him to think she was on Gemma's side. She also didn't want him to feel left out. What should she say? Sam was looking at her expectantly. "Oh, sorry, I'm not sure when we get back home--some do or other after the meeting." There. Not a lie. Well done, Mandy. She gave him her sweetest smile. "And no, I haven't forgotten about tomorrow," she added. Actually, she had almost forgotten, and was very relieved Sam had just reminded her. "So what time would you like to come over? If you come before lunch you can meet my Mum and sister and we can have lunch. Play some music and hang out a bit." "That sounds great!" Mandy replied. "I'll want a bit of a sleep-in, though. First day of the break and everything." She really did like Sam's company. He was her first friend at St Greg's, and she might learn some more about the other students and the teachers and life at the school, which was beginning to interest her more and more, now that her earlier fears had gone. But she also wondered how she might be feeling after the party tonight. "Great! I mean, cool," said Sam. "Is twelve o'clock late enough? Shall I meet you at the station? They made their plans for Saturday morning. # "MUM said to apologise for having to work," Sam said as he showed Mandy into the house. She had overslept, only waking up when Sam called her after midday to see if she was okay, having not responded to his texts (the first of which was around ten o'clock) or earlier calls. She apologised profusely, saying she still wanted to come over, but obviously was going to be massively late. Emma was rather amused by it all, and offered to drive Mandy. She seemed to have recovered from yesterday's anxieties, and was gently ribbing Mandy about the party. She seems in a really good mood today, Mandy noted with relief. "She stayed until after lunch but then had to go into the office," Sam continued. It was now just after two o'clock in the afternoon. Mandy apologised again. She couldn't explain how it had happened, she said. In fact, despite feeling quite tired still, she felt much better than she had any right to expect, considering how she had had quite a lot to drink at the party the previous night (on present standards, anyway--it was nothing like she had been able to handle as Derek), and how late she had got to bed. Emma had practically had to carry her into the house when they got home. "Is Emma really your actual guardian?" Sam asked. "She seems pretty young," Sam added, "not all that older than us, is she?" Indeed, he was quite puzzled after being introduced to Emma. He had expected someone much older, somehow. "Oh no, she's twenty-one," Mandy responded defensively, as though this put her well outside the category of "not much older". And she's more like a sister, really. An older sister ..." she said a bit distractedly, as if it had just occurred to her. "More of a flatmate or something. But close. She's my best friend in the world." "So how long have you known each other?" Sam asked. That was a complicated question. Although she had known Emma all Emma's life, as Mandy she had known her for less than two weeks. "It's complicated," Emma replied after a pause. She changed tack slightly. "Emma is the daughter of the family solicitor I was staying with when ..." she hesitated briefly, "... when the fire happened." Sam nodded sympathetically and waited for her to go on, wondering if he'd somehow put his foot in it. He knew the basics of Mandy's supposed bereavement, and was not sure whether he should mention it or comment on it. (His mother would say you should never bring up unpleasant things, it always upsets people. Just carry on as normal. Push painful memories away.) By now they were in the kitchen. Sam's brow was furrowed. "So how come she's your guardian, if she's your best friend?" he let slip out, immediately regretting it. It did seem odd, though. It caught Mandy a bit unawares. "Why? ..." she stalled. "Umm ... Didn't I tell you? Mr Ross, that's her father, the solicitor ... he's--no was--my solicitor. Brian--Brian Ball--is now ... he ... disappeared. Derek--Mr Ross, that is. And I needed a guardian, because of the will, that is, my parents" will, and I ... Derek, that is ... couldn't do it because ... he's gone. Vanished, I mean. Big mystery. So Emma's doing it. "Actually, it was me that insisted she be the guardian." Mandy declared, finally landing on what seemed like the best explanation, which also happened to be true, she realised triumphantly. "Is Emma a solicitor too, then?" Sam asked. "God, no!" Mandy laughed. "Though she could have done law. Easily. No, she's studying Media and Journalism at Queen Mary. I ... I mean, her Dad probably put her off law. And also her mum. Dianne ... Emma's mother, she's a solicitor too. That's enough to put anyone off, I should think. Or else make you really want to do it, I suppose. I've seen that happen in law families. Not as often as you'd imagine, though." Mandy felt she was starting to babble. She gave an embarrassed laugh. Sam looked at her with an amused expression. He opened the door of the refrigerator. Mandy was relieved he didn't seem inclined to continue what had felt like an interrogation. "So would you like some cold pizza?" he asked. He had already eaten lunch with his mother and sister once they knew Mandy wouldn't be joining them for a while. "Yes please, I'm famished!" Mandy declared. She realised she was very hungry. "Hi, you must be Bridget." Mandy had noticed a little girl of about eight standing in the doorway. "Are you Sam's new girlfriend?" she asked, smiling archly. Mandy looked questioningly at Sam. He gave an embarrassed smile and a little cough. "This is my little sister," Sam said, giving her a glare. "Bridget, this is Mandy." "You were supposed to come for lunch," Bridget accused. "Mummy's awfully cross with you." "Yes, sorry." Mandy looked at Sam. She turned back to the little girl. "It's nice to meet you now, though. What school do you go to?" "St Mary's," she said. "I'm in Grade Three. We have a school dog," she added. "A school dog? Do you mean an actual dog? I never heard of that before." "A Labrador," Bridget added. "Her name is Dora. Do you want to see my dollhouse?" "Dollhouse! That sounds amazing!" Bridget took Mandy's hand and led her upstairs to her room. # SAM sat disconsolately on the sitting-room sofa listening to music on his headphones. Mandy had been playing with his sister for two hours, first with the dollhouse (a beautiful antique structure with very detailed old furniture and decorations that had belonged to his mother's grandparents), then playing music and dancing and singing improvised karaoke together. Sam had followed them upstairs, bringing Mandy's plate of pizza. He had tried to join in at first, but he never played dolls with his sister and found it a bit put-on. After a while he had quietly withdrawn downstairs and waited for Mandy to join him. After he began to hear music (pop music!) he began to feel shut-out and ignored, and he found that even though he liked to hear Mandy's voice, the music they were playing was annoying him. It had been two hours, and so far, no-one seemed to have noticed he wasn't with them. Or cared anyway. Then his mother had sent a text message saying she wouldn't be back for dinner and to make something for himself and his sister. She evidently didn't realise Mandy was still there. It had begun to get dark when Bridget ran into the room and jumped up onto Sam, surprising him with her exited energy. "Careful!" he said with annoyance. "You'll break my headphones! Get off!" Bridget giggled as she jumped down and ran to Mandy who had followed her into the room. She gave her a big hug, and, rushing back, sat down again beside Sam. "We've had, like, the most amazingly awesome time!" Mandy declared. "Bridget has the most amazing imagination! I never knew dolls could be so interesting! We did some things with Brig's hair, and some, like, makeup and stuff. I hope your mum won't mind. We've been dancing too. She's very musical, isn't she? We missed you upstairs." Mandy was slightly annoyed she hadn't had a chance yet to ask Sam more questions about the other kids at school. "I guess you've been enjoying your music down here." Sam looked rather doubtful, deciding not to answer. And Bridget only let family members call her Brig, didn't she? He turned to Bridget. "Mum's not back for tea. It's just us again, Poppet." Bridget's smile faded. "If you like, I could make us dinner," Mandy said. "Show me what's there and I bet I could make up something nice." "You don't need to get back home?" Sam asked. Mandy said she'd text Emma. She was sure it would be fine to stay a bit longer. Sam's gloom vanished like morning dew. # "THESE are my Dad's," Sam said after dinner, showing Mandy several shelves of vinyl LPs, mostly classical. "Some were my Granddad's. Dad lets me keep them here. The CDs are mine. Mostly. Some are his." They'd both helped put Bridget to bed after they'd eaten the Spanish omelettes Mandy made, Mandy telling a story using some of Bridget's dolls. "She's often hard work putting to bed," Sam had remarked. "But she's being good for you." Sam had told Mandy how his parents divorced six years ago. His father now lived with his new wife in Scotland. Mandy looked through the records appreciatively. "Wow," she exclaimed at one point, "That takes me back. Karl Richter conducting "Ich habe genung" with Fischer-Dieskau. I used to have that," she reminisced. She almost added, "When I was a child." "Amazing sound engineering for its day." "Was that in Malta?" Sam asked, then suddenly looking worried he'd put his foot in it again. Mandy frowned for a moment at the question, feeling slightly disorientated, then her face cleared and she replied more brightly, "Yes. In another life, anyway ... My Dad owned it first." Which was true. Sam gazed at her with sympathetic eyes. "Would you like to listen to it?" he asked. "Yes please," she answered. "Can we hear "Schlummert ein"?" Sam found the track with the third movement of Bach's Cantata BWV 82. Mandy closed her eyes and listened to the mesmerising melody. Sam didn't remember ever actually having heard this piece. It was beautiful. How did he not know it? He looked at Mandy sitting beside him as the music played, a lump forming in his throat. And a sort of pain in his chest. He could smell her hair, he realised. He inhaled deeply. Sam's hand was inches from Mandy's, and he began to move it towards hers, almost like it was moving of its own free will. The song had come to an end. The doorbell rang. Sam's hand froze. Mandy opened her eyes. "Perfect timing!" she smiled at Sam. "That'll be Emma." "Perfect timing," Sam sighed as he waved Mandy and Emma goodbye. He went in to check Bridget hadn't been woken up by the doorbell and voices downstairs. # "THANKS for picking me up," Mandy said to Emma once they were underway. "No problem. I'm getting paid, remember?" Emma replied. "Emma!" Mandy looked at her, rather shocked. "Don't worry, that's not why I'm doing it," Emma said, laughing. "God, as if I'd need money to help out my ..." she paused momentarily, then added mischievously, "ward!" "Emma!" Mandy said again. "Okay, roommate! How's that, "roomie"?" She laughed again. Somehow the American idiom sounded funny. "Have you been drinking, Emma?" Mandy asked, starting to become annoyed. "Hmm. Just a couple. I met up with Paul for a drink after I'd seen Mum. She's still really cut up about Dad going missing. Anyway, you remember Paul? He was acting as bouncer at your friend's party last night." Mandy certainly remembered Paul. She smiled to herself. Then she frowned. There was something off about the way Emma had referred to "Derek's" disappearance. "I sent him a text saying it was nice to see him last night," Emma went on, "and he texted back and suggested we meet up some time in the break, and I said "Great, when?" and he texted back: was I free tonight? So we had a few drinks and a curry as well," Emma continued. "We might be catching up again, soon." Emma looked pleased. "You like him, don't you?" Mandy pressed. Emma said nothing, but she was smiling. Then she sighed, "Yeah!" and giggled. "Did you have more than a curry?" Maundy asked with a little concern. Had Emma taken something? She wasn't normally so frivolous. "We-ell," she rolled the word around, "if you must know," she glanced, smiling, across at Mandy, "I wouldn't say we had dessert, exactly." Emma smiled as she continued driving through the Saturday night traffic. "So?" Mandy finally asked since Emma had not elaborated. "What did you have then?" "Nosey roomie, aren't we?" After a moment Emma continued, "If you must know, he came back with me, and I was showing him the house. And I made us some drinks. And we drank them. And I played him a song (or I told "Bleepy" to play it--you know, the controlly thingy--which he loved!) ... and we were listening to the song. And after a bit, he stretched, like he was yawning or something ... and left his arm on the back of the sofa, as you do. Emma paused the narrative infuriatingly once again. Was Emma really this excited by such a clich?d move? No, she corrected herself, it's totally hot that he's coming on to her. She could now picture herself waiting in anticipation while a boy's arm hovered tantalisingly on the sofa behind her. She crossed her legs, waiting for Emma to continue. "And then?" Mandy finally couldn't stop herself asking. "Well, of course his arm sort of flopped down on my shoulder," Emma continued. (Ahh! Mandy shuddered.) "So I leant back--you know, to show I was cool with it." "And?" Mandy had to prompt after another teasing pause. "He started to stroke my shoulder with his hand. And then he moved it to my cheek, and he moved in a bit closer. And I just sort of waited, letting him do it all, not moving, but looking him in the eyes. I was super-excited, but I didn't want to seem too ... I don't know. So after a bit he brushed some strands of my hair off my face, and he did this thing ... he sort of touched me all over my face with just the tips of his fingers, sooo gently, and he stroked my eyelids with the backs of his fingers as I closed my eyes for a sec." "God!" Mandy exclaimed. She was feeling herself getting warm and gooey inside. "And then ..." Emma paused again infuriatingly. Mandy waited. "And then," she continued, leaning back and waiting for the traffic to start moving again, "and then he stuck his thumb in my mouth!" "He what?" Mandy exclaimed. "And I started to suck it. Like, really suck it!" Another pause. "Like it was his cock!" She said this with relish. "And then we, like, kissed and stuff." "Is that all?" Mandy questioned. "And stuff." Emma repeated cryptically. "Lots. Of. Stuff." She giggled, then sighed dreamily. "But," she continued after a while, "he had to get home, and I had to pick you up, so that was it for tonight. "I was thinking lately, maybe Paul and I weren't going anywhere," she continued when the traffic began to move. "He's always been friendly at college, and we met up quite a bit, but lately we've only, like, chatted and had coffee. Running into him last night seems to have got things moving again." "So when do you see him again?" Mandy asked. She was wondering if she should tell Emma about her own encounter with Paul's charms. She decided she wouldn't. "Tomorrow," answered Emma, "if that's okay with you. He's coming round after lunch." ""Tomorrow," echoed Mandy. "It'll be nice to see him again," she added after a pause. "You don't think you could, you know, pop out at some stage, do you?" "As a matter of fact, there is something I was going to do later tomorrow." Mandy said. "Oh, good. And thanks." Emma offered. "And another thing." Emma took a big breath. "I haven't really told him about the whole guardianship thing. It just sounds a bit bizarre, somehow, you know, when you try to explain it to a friend, don't you think? So I said I had an amazing new job with Wedjat Holdings, like a big PR job or something, and it was really well-paid. And I told him about you, you know, about losing your parents in the fire and everything. And I said--I hope you don't mind--I said that the house was part of the job--which is true, of course, isn't it?--and that you were staying there too, you know, because you needed somewhere to live while you finish school. And that since it was owned by the company your father had worked with, and we were friends, that I ... that I didn't mind you staying with me." Emma took a gulp. Mandy digested this for a moment. She could see why Emma was feeling guilty about this, leaving out that the apartment belonged to Mandy, making herself the one with all the power. Which she was, really, in a sense. And she was glad Emma had told her now. Actually, this might not be a bad thing. "Good thinking, Emma," she said at last. "It's not much different from the truth, is it?" (except I'm not sure my "father" was even real, Mandy thought.) "People look at you differently if they think you're, like, super rich, don't they? And like you said yesterday, it can even be dangerous. We can just tell most people we're housemates, can't we? And not mention the house is mine." (That still sounded strange!) "We won't be secretive: just, like, discreet about how much and who we tell stuff to." Emma looked very relieved. "Thanks, Mandy. I really appreciate it. I'd better tell Mum and Peter to keep a bit shtum about you being my ward." She turned and smiled at Mandy. "And I'd better tell Sam," Mandy added. "He was asking a lot of questions about you and me, and I told him all about it. Not about it, of course. About things now." "Ooooh!" Emma commented suggestively, but then a puzzled look came across her face that Mandy couldn't see. "Oh no, Sam's just a friend," Mandy countered. "He just likes to hang out with me because we really get on, because we, like, have a lot of similar interests and that. I don't think he gets on that well with his mum." Mandy started to think about Sam. We do get on, don't we? We do like a lot of the same things. She pictured the way his fair hair fell across his face all the time, and he was always pushing it back with his hand. Her thoughts turned back to Emma and Paul, and what Emma had just been saying. Was Emma being self-serving or was she being wise? Must there always be a contradiction? Mandy wondered. Where had all the concern from last night about her safety, and protecting her from kidnappers and other baddies, gone? Nevertheless, it was a great relief. Emma in full guardian mode had been terrifying. She hoped Paul wasn't going to end up hurting Emma. She suspected his feelings for Emma might be different to hers for him. She'd have to keep a watchful eye on things for Emma's sake. Is she really Paul's type? came out of the blue. Why would Paul be interested in her when ... Mandy gave her head a shake. No. I'm not thinking like that. One thing, though. Now that their roles had changed, they were definitely in a different relationship. Mandy wondered how she felt about that. And how did she now feel about Emma? Of course, she loved her. But in what way? # "YOU'RE going to church?" Emma seemed confused as Mandy was about to go off to get ready, having got up quite early for a Sunday morning and had breakfast of hot chocolate and raisin toast. "That's right. It's not till ten-thirty, though. I checked. "Why?" Emma asked. "It's not even Easter." "Well," Mandy explained, "I sort of promised Dom Aelred--he's the school chaplain--that I'd go to church on Palm Sunday. That's today. And also some services later this week. And Easter of course. It's Holy Week, you know." Emma didn't. "So it's, like, homework or something," Emma ventured. "Yes, I suppose. A bit. But I also want to go." Suddenly Mandy got an idea. "Em, would you like to come with me?" Emma was about to say no, in a scoffing tone. Then she smiled, realising what the date was. "This is an April Fool's prank, isn't it?" "No, Emma. Don't be stupid!" Mandy laughed. "Come or not, it's your choice. But I'd really like you to come. If you want." Once again, Emma was about to scoff. But seeing Mandy's eager expression, she found herself changing her mind. "The thing is ... umm ... Hmm. Alright, then, I will." Mandy beamed. "So where are we going?" Emma asked, still trying to get her head around this turn of affairs. "Westminster Cathedral. It's just past Victoria Station. We can walk there if we leave by ten." "But that's RC, isn't it?" Emma questioned. "Of course it is." Mandy pronounced. # "THAT was better than I expected," Emma commented quietly to Mandy as they stood among the crowds in the square outside the cathedral, having taken ages getting out amidst the press of people. (A lot of them were waiting to speak to the Archbishop, and many were posing for photos with him.) "I'd expect to pay ?30 just to hear music of that standard in a concert," Emma declared. Mandy smiled back, pleased. # HAVING walked to Westminster Cathedral from home, they had arrived in good time at the entrance to the church, but were directed to go to Cathedral Hall, a large venue behind Westminster Cathedral where Derek had once attended a concert. It was packed with people, all rather excited and jolly. Along with everyone else, Mandy and Emma received a small cross made from dry palm fronds. The choir and lots of priests and others wearing robes came in to elaborate singing in Latin: "Hosanna filio David: benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini. Rex Israel: Hosanna in excelsis." Everyone held up their palm crosses, which were blessed by the Archbishop, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, sprinkling them with holy water. Then the procession set off, with all the people following, turning up Ambrosden Avenue heading towards the cathedral. The crowd filled the whole street, with police stopping the traffic. The choir sang, and people joined in, their voices rippling down through the crowd, creating echoes, and echoes of echoes. "The children of the Jerusalem, welcomed Christ the King, They carried olive branches, and loudly praised the Lord: Hosanna in the highest. "All glory, laud and honour, to thee Redeemer King ..." As Mandy and Emma turned the corner into the cathedral forecourt, Mandy looked back. The dense crowd was so stretched out there were still people leaving Cathedral Hall. Over two and a half hours later they both stood in the square abutting Victoria Street. The procession had been fun, with an almost festive feeling. But once they entered the cathedral, the mood seemed to change, becoming both serious and urgent, yet moving with a slow deliberate pace through its various stages. They had ended up sitting next to a nun (who was from Jamaica they discovered) quite close to the front, having been pushed forward by the crowds until they found some available seats among the rapidly-filling pews. The most moving part for Mandy had been when the story of Jesus" Passion-- the Last Supper, his betrayal and arrest, his trial and torture, and then his death on the cross--was told, entirely with singing, by three men in red taking different roles, and the choir very dramatically taking the roles of different groups, including the crowds calling for Jesus" death. She had looked over at Emma at one point, who also seemed to be following the unfolding drama with great concentration. The point came when everyone was getting up to go forward for holy communion. Mandy and Emma remained seated in their places, but the nun sitting with them turned towards them. She must have observed they had been a bit unfamiliar with how to conduct themselves (though they were sure they had been following more or less what everyone else was doing). "You girls are not Catholics, are you? Don" worry, ye're very welcome." Mandy wasn't sure how to answer, but Emma agreed, no, they weren't Catholics. "You come up with me for a blessing then. Come on. It's alright." She ushered them forward into the queueing throng. When they came before the Archbishop, the nun received communion, then stepped to the side and said to him, "Just a blessing for these two lovely girls please, Eminence." He smiled and made the sign of the cross on Emma's and Mandy's forehead. They returned to their places, and thanked their friendly companion. Perhaps Emma was just being polite, but Mandy was feeling very moved. "I'll be coming again on Thursday night," Mandy told the nun. "And Friday, and Saturday night, too." "I'll look out for you," she replied, her white teeth gleaming in a broad smile. IT was starting to drizzle, so they headed towards home, stopping for some light lunch at the Duke of Wellington, or "Duke of Boots" as the locals call it, in Eaton Terrace. # EMMA had already greeted Paul while he was standing outside the door using the security controller, and was now heading to the front door to let him in personally. Mandy was downstairs in the atrium on her computer. She could hear Emma's and Paul's voices as they moved about upstairs, Paul making appropriately admiring comments as Emma led him once again through the apartment. Mandy stayed put, giving them some space. She had been chatting with and texting friends, including Sam and Gemma (who was in bed, sick). "Hi, down there," Emma at length called from the gallery above. "We're just coming downstairs." Mandy waited at the desk, turning to face where they would shortly appear. "So, you remember Paul," Emma said, slightly nervously. Paul, however, showed no hint of nervousness, but smiled at Mandy like they were old friends. "Hello. Nice to see you again," Mandy held out her hand in greeting. "Emma been showing you around then?" "Yeah, I saw most of it yesterday, actually. She said it was posh, but it really is amazing. I just saw all those games consoles. Totally "sick as"!" Mandy looked at Emma, expecting to exchange a look of amusement at Paul's attempt at "cool". But Emma was smiling at Paul as if he'd said something witty. "Boys and their computer games!" Emma commented indulgently. Boys love it when girls play video games with them, Mandy suddenly remembered. They like to win, though. They hate it when girls beat them. Poor things, it's quite endearing, really. "Perhaps you'd like to play a game with me, sometime?" Mandy offered, twirling a strand of her hair. "I'm not very good, though. You'd have to show me what to do." "Or we could all play later." Emma shot Mandy a strange look. "I'd love to teach you a thing or two," Paul answered Mandy. "Both of you," he quickly added, turning to Emma. He gave her a dazzling smile. Mandy's heart skipped slightly. He's cute, she decided. But something was bothering her that she couldn't put her finger on. "Unfortunately Mandy has some homework she needs to do, don't you Mandy?" Emma shot Mandy a significant look. "Oh, that's right. I actually do. Sorry about that, Paul. Another time, maybe. And Emma, you remember how I need to pop out for a bit? I'll be heading off in about half an hour, so you two just carry on. Pretend I'm not here." Mandy excused herself to her room while Emma finished Paul's tour. # MANDY headed down Eaton Square and made her way towards Bourne Street. Quite a big crowd were gathered this time inside St Mary's, and Mandy struggled to find a spare seat. A few people she had seen at evensong the previous Sunday seemed to recognise her, and said words of welcome or simply smiled. It was similar to last time, only in place of the purple robes, they wore red, as they had at Westminster Cathedral that morning. It seemed more sombre than last time, and intense, and there was a procession around the church in the middle of the service. But Benediction at the end left Mandy with the same feeling of peace and calm. She realised she had been feeling anxious for some reason. Tonight she accepted the general invitation to go back to the vicarage next door. Quite a few went, all seeming to know each other. She felt a bit awkward, all by herself. "All alone again?" a woman came up, echoing her thoughts, and placed a plastic cup of cranberry juice in her hand. "I thought you might like this. Or would you prefer a cup of tea? You're becoming quite a regular." "Oh yes," Mandy felt a bit flustered for some reason, but relieved someone had spoken to her. "I live close by. Round the corner from Eaton Square." "Were you with us this morning? We had the most magnificent liturgy!" "Sorry, I went somewhere else this morning. Westminster Cathedral. I'm actually a Catholic," Mandy blurted. "Well, so are we," said the woman with a faint sniff. "I think you probably mean you're Roman Catholic. People often make that mistake. So. Westminster Cathedral. They'd have done it well over there this morning, I'm sure," she continued after a pause, still smiling warmly but with just a possible hint of disappointment. "Oh yes, it was amazing!" Mandy said enthusiastically. "But very long!" she added. "Well, it's nice to see you here again tonight. You're always welcome here, any time." "Thanks, I love it here," Mandy replied. The woman seemed to brighten up. "My name's Trish," she said. "Hi. I'm Mandy." They shook hands. # YOU'VE been to church again?" Emma seemed bemused by Mandy's answer when she finally thought to ask where she'd been. "I guess it's all homework for the chaplain, Dom Whatsisface. So that's alright," she added. She seemed a bit tipsy and dishevelled. Paul was still there, smirking at Mandy for some reason. They hadn't yet eaten, so Mandy offered to make them all dinner. About half an hour later she called them to the meal of steak and chips and salad. She had set the dining table for two and opened a bottle of wine. Thanks, Sweetie," Emma had said when Mandy called them to the table. That was odd. She'd never called her that before. "Not joining us?" Paul queried. "I've got some stuff I need to do," Mandy answered. "I'll take mine downstairs, if that's alright. I'll take a glass of wine, though." Mandy poured herself a glass of the merlot. She sat eating her dinner in the atrium, watching the TV with the sound turned low. She could hear, but not see, Emma and Paul enjoying themselves in the dining room in the overlooking gallery. Emma and Paul eventually left the table and went into the sitting room at the front of the house, so Mandy took her dishes upstairs. Seeing the dining table hadn't been cleared, she put everything away and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. # "YOU alright, Sweetie?" Emma enquired, coming into Mandy's room at about eleven o'clock. "Sorry I've been neglecting you. And thanks for cooking dinner." Mandy was sitting in bed with her laptop open resting on top of her. She had been about to go to sleep. Emma moved the laptop off Mandy and, climbing on the bed, stretched out beside her. She began to stroke Mandy's hair. It was very soothing. "Paul and I are really getting on. I asked him to stay the night. You don't mind, do you?" Emma said. "No, of course not," Mandy answered, not, however, feeling much enthusiasm for Emma's announcement. "It's your home after all." "Thanks, Sweetie. I knew you'd be fine with it." She gave Mandy a kiss on the forehead and left, giving a little wave with her fingers as she closed the door after her. # MANDY lay in bed thinking. She wasn't sure why she was feeling ill at ease. Paul had certainly ruptured the intimacy that had been growing between her and Emma. But the last brief exchange had seemed somehow unusual, with Emma strangely distant, despite the physical closeness, which itself was a bit unusual. Paul's presence in the house was very unsettling. And Emma seemed very critical of Mandy going to church that night. "Homework", she had said dismissively. But Dom Aelred had never said she should go to evensong--that had been her own discovery. It was a question, though: why did she like going to church so much.? She shrugged, I must just think it's, like, comforting or something. Religion is a fundamental aspect of a person's identity and culture. It influences things such as values, attitudes and world view. She supposed that was true. Where did that thought come from? Had her world view changed? As for values, she didn't think her attitudes and aspirations had been particularly religious lately. Quite the opposite, probably. Mandy felt a wave of dizziness come over her, leaving a feeling of ... what? It felt like she'd just said something embarrassingly stupid. It's what you wanted, she suddenly told herself very emphatically. It's what you asked for. You can't change it now, it's who you are. I can't change who I am, she realised. That made sense. Although it's a bit ironic, because ... The same wave of dizziness came over her. No, Mandy. You can't change it. That's final. With a sigh, she told 'Bleepy' to put out the lights and, snuggling down under the covers, began to drift off to sleep. Something was still nagging at her. But don't sex and religion contradict each other? Isn't it wrong to be thinking about sex so much? What would Dom Aelred think? Mandy waited for an answer to come, but her question still hung there. That was odd. She was sort of expecting an explanation to just come to her. Think. What's the answer? Nothing came. She sat up in bed and adjusted her pillows behind her. She needed to think. She could feel the slight pressure of the duvet on her nipples. It felt nice. What had she been thinking about again? That's right, she'd been thinking about Paul. Paul and Emma. Could it be she was jealous of Emma? After all, she and Paul had done some serious snogging at the party two nights ago. The recollection caused a warm feeling to begin to grow in Mandy. But now that she knew that Emma had had feelings for Paul that went back some time--that made a difference. So why had Paul come on to her at the party? Mandy suddenly wondered. Perhaps she had come on to him. It was hard to remember. And why hadn't she said anything to Emma about it? She supposed it was the way Emma had talked about Paul. She seems really smitten, despite trying to be casual about their relationship. No, she decided, she wouldn't be telling Emma anything about it. She was going over these things in her mind when it occurred to her: she enjoyed snogging. A lot. She even enjoyed snogging that boy Tom. Fuck, she enjoyed snogging Gemma! (or Gemma snogging her, strictly speaking). She remembered Paul's smell. Masculine. Urgent. In control. Dominant. He had been so attractive! She had felt flattered, compliant, ready! She took off her pyjamas and cast them down beside the bed. Soon she was rolling her left nipple between her thumb and forefinger while she rubbed two fingers of her right hand on her clitoris, pressing them against her pelvic bone. She could smell her arousal, she realised. Her need. She let out a soft moan. She snuggled back down into the bed, turning on her side. She continued to stimulate her clitoris, wedging her fist between her legs and bringing her thighs together, holding the tip of her thumb just so ... She shifted her thumb into a better position. That felt much nicer. As her pelvis began to jerk rhythmically against her hand she began to feel calmer. I guess this is sinful, then--what I'm doing. I should feel bad about it. Ashamed. Cheap. She felt a tingle down her spine. Naughty! Lewd! Randy! (Ha-ha! that's funny!) Nympho! Loose! Bawdy! Wanton! Teasing! She felt herself grinding against her hand. Fuck, this is really hot! (Ah! just there! So close!) ... Waves of pleasure began to wash over her. Questions now seemed trivial and irrelevant. Ahh! she gasped, feeling the pulsing thrum against her thumb, just inside her vagina. She held her breath until it subsided, then sighed. Still feeling sensitive, she rubbed herself gently, her breathing returning to normal. Wait. She wasn't finished! Another wave of pleasure was building. It wasn't taking long, like she was already primed. She was close. She focussed on the feeling between her legs, the tension building. Very close. Almost there. Just what I need. Just what I want. It's who I am. So ... very ... close. There was a sound. It was soft, but was becoming more insistent. It was so close!--but now it was receding. Mandy was conscious of her disappointment and frustration. A noise was distracting her, she realised again resentfully. She became conscious of the noise. Something was tapping on the opaque glass door of her bedroom. It was very quiet, but it wouldn't give up. A tall silhouette was visible through the glass. "Psst. Mandy. Psst. Wake up." A very soft voice was calling. She got up, and wrapping herself in the silk robe she had thrown over the settee at the bottom of her bed, she crept tentatively to her bedroom door. "Hello?" she tentatively called. "Shh. It's me. Paul. Don't worry, everything's okay. Let me in for a moment." Paul! Did he somehow know she had been fantasising about the other night? About him? Feeling embarrassed and guilty, Mandy cracked the door ajar. "Yes? What is it?" she whispered. Paul pushed the door open and came right in. He closed the door behind him. Mandy looked at him, shocked. "Shh, be quiet. It's alright. I just wanted a quick word alone." Paul held Mandy's shoulders and manoeuvred her away from the door further into the room. "This is nice," he observed, taking in the room in the dimness of the courtyard windows. Still holding her he looked into her eyes. He brushed a stray hair out of her face. "I just wanted a moment to tell you. You don't have to worry. I haven't told Emma." "Told her what?" Mandy asked, still trying to collect herself. Paul was wearing only boxer shorts and smelt sort of musky. It was nice. Paul let out a soft laugh. "Told her about Friday night. The party. In the hallway. You coming on to me. Your secret's safe. I wanted you to know." "Th...thanks. I guess." (But I didn't even know he knew Emma on Friday night, did I? Mandy wavered.) But ... you came on to me, didn't you?" Where's Emma, Mandy wondered. "Listen, Paul, you shouldn't ..." "Shh," Paul held a finger against her lips. He took her face in his hands, stroking her temples with his thumbs. "I think we know who did the coming on," he cooed. His arms were around Mandy, drawing her closer. It took Mandy by surprise. She put her hands on his chest. Looking down into her eyes, he leaned forward. Somehow their mouths had met, and their dancing tongues were tasting each other greedily. Paul's hands were feeling their way down Mandy's back, massaging her shoulders, her waist, kneading her buttocks. A hand untied her robe and drew it aside, and began caressing her breasts. The other hand was now resting on her pubic mound, rubbing and massaging, the fingers pinching and rolling the sensitive flesh. She adjusted her position, allowing more access. She flinched slightly as a finger inserted itself in her vagina, probing and feeling around. She could feel Paul smirk, still kissing her, as he discovered she was already wet. Mandy couldn't help herself. She let out a moan as she impaled herself on the finger (no, two fingers now) moving them in and out as she undulated her body, now somehow suspended by her arms wrapped round Paul's neck, their mouths never breaking contact. Suddenly Paul disentangled Mandy's arms and stood her, trembling and frustrated away from himself. "That was easy." Was he speaking to Mandy or himself? Mandy stood trembling before him, breathing rapidly. His eyes drank in her naked body. "I'd like to continue, but I need to get back to Emma. She might miss me." He smirked. "Like I said, I haven't told her a thing, so you needn't worry. It'll be our secret. We'll talk again soon. Sleep tight," he whispered, kissing her lightly on the forehead, and with a final smile and wink, crept back out and across the atrium to where Emma lay sound asleep, gently snoring. Mandy stood frozen to the spot for some time, her lips still tingling and a warm insistent throbbing plainting from her empty snatch. "Fuck!" she said with a groan. "Wow! ... Fuck! ... Wow!" She staggered back to bed. She needed to finish. She came in shuddering spasms within a few short urgent strokes. # EYES open, staring at the ceiling above her bed. Or, rather, the blank TV monitor in the ceiling above her bed, reflecting the soft moonlight from the courtyard. This isn't good, she told herself. Paul was obviously the worst kind of cad. What did that make her? What will Emma think of her? If she finds out. She's not herself where Paul is concerned. She's besotted, clearly, and he's all wrong for her. Maybe not for you though, eh? No! She gave her head a shake. Somehow, she had to rescue Emma from what might become a very bad situation, leaving her devastated. And what about her friendship with Emma? Shit! Emma was now her guardian! The one with the power over almost every aspect of her new life. Fear suddenly gripped Mandy, rising to the top of her confused feelings. So many feelings. Her love for Emma and wish to protect her. Her contempt for Paul--her attraction to Paul! Her jealousy of Emma (it's true! she sobbed). Her guilt for being the cause of Paul's cheating. (You're not the cause, she told herself. Yes, you are the cause, she retorted. I didn't cause this. Yeah, but you didn't stop it. Didn't stop it? I couldn't stop it! Couldn't, or didn't want to?) Her head ached as she began to feel overwhelmed with anguish and guilt. Somewhere, in the guilty part of her ruminations, the image of Sam surfaced accusingly. Then Gemma's image floated, shaking her head, into her fevered imagination, joined by Vanessa, Helen and Maria. Genevieve, too, appeared in her mind's eye and pointed at her. "What a slag!" she said, and laughed. Others around her pointed and laughed. "Slag! Slag! Slag!" they chanted. # HAD she fallen asleep? If so, she didn't feel rested. And it was still an hour or two before dawn. She retrieved the laptop from the far side of the bed. Logging onto the apartment's security system she found the CCTV video access. She brought up the cameras in the atrium and started to review the recordings of the last few hours. The image was very clear. Even in the dim light, there he was: Paul coming out of Emma's room and creeping across to Mandy's. A quick look back towards Emma's room. Tapping on the door, waiting, tapping, not giving up. The door opening. Him going in, plainly pushing the door. He seemed to be in there longer than Mandy remembered. Finally. There he is, coming out again, the look back into the room. The smirk on his face, clear as can be, as he goes back to Emma, hopefully asleep and oblivious. Hopefully. A wave of anger swept over Mandy. She selected the archive date/time bar, highlighting the entire section of video she had just watched. She pressed delete.