Amy Terry Tom and OthersChapter 10
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Amy, Terry, Tom... And OthersChapter 3 free porn video
Terry, almost, it seemed, by accident ... had a life. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, he ... sometimes chipped rust or sanded woodwork, 'wrapped' splices and generally tried to get Emily Jane in as good condition as he could for the next season. From time to time someone would call to him from the quay; often that would develop into a tour of the ship together with a discussion of the history and character of the class of vessels in question. Sometimes, it would be an older person with some personal memory of Emily Jane or one of her sisters. Once it was an erect, soldierly gentleman who had been taken from Dunkirk beach by SB Pudge.
Once, perhaps twice, a week he would see Annie. Sometimes she would come to see him aboard Emily Jane and initiate him into the arts of oriental cooking or just sit and chat – he learned a lot about Vietnam and the surrounding area. From time to time they went out together, for a meal, perhaps, exploring different cuisines, or to a concert. He became very fond of her though they never did more than hold hands or exchange a kiss on the cheek.
Less often, Beth called in, her pregnancy beginning to show, and perhaps once in a fortnight he would cycle to Felixstowe to see Amy, read to or play with the twins and take them out if the weather was suitable, have lunch with them and return. He hardly noticed the time passing.
He kept forgetting his mobile phone; either he forgot to charge the battery, or left it on charge when he went out and forgot to pick it up later. As a result, he missed a call from his mother, wanting to know if he was going home for Christmas. He thought about it, and decided, yes ... When he returned the call, though, he had another idea and asked if it would be okay to bring a friend with him.
"Of course. Male or female?"
"Female."
A long pause ensued.
"Would you be needing one room, or two?"
He had to laugh. "Two, Mum. It's a friend, not a girl-friend."
"Is she pretty?"
"Very. But we are just friends, Mum. Don't get excited, okay?"
When he asked Anh if she'd like to join him at his parents for Christmas, she was initially reluctant, but when reassured she would not be intruding, quite excited; although in touch with the Vietnamese community, her family had returned to Vietnam a couple of years previously. She, brought up in England, had chosen to remain, but it meant she was largely alone; hence her approach to Terry in the first place.
He'd hardly made arrangements when he had an invitation to spend Christmas with the Robinsons, which he regretfully declined; within a few days, another invitation from Amy, which he again, with more regret, declined ... in both cases explaining he'd already told his family he was going home to them.
Christmas Eve arrived and Terry and Anh boarded a train bound for Norwich; it was only five minutes late. They made their connection there for Peterborough, and changed again at Peterborough for Huntingdon. The journey took just under three hours.
They were met at the station by Terry's father, who embraced his son warmly.
"Dad," Terry said, "I'd like to introduce my friend Nguyen Anh; she likes to be called Annie..."
He turned to look at the tiny oriental girl, standing next to his six-foot tall son. He thought she looked almost like a doll except she was obviously full of life. He thought she looked very lovely. He held out his hand, and when she took it said, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Annie. I hope we can make you feel welcome in our home."
She dipped her head. "Thank you, Mr. Knight. I am happy to be invited."
"If you are comfortable with it, I'd like you to call me Richard. My wife is called Betsy."
"Thank you, Richard."
"Let's get you both home."
Betsy Knight was a little less effective at concealing her surprise at the friend her son had brought home, but she held out her hand to her.
"Darling," her husband said, "this is Terry's friend Anh."
She shook herself, "I do apologise! Please, make yourself at home."
"You are shocked, Mrs. Knight?"
"A little, yes, but in a good way, and my name is Betsy."
"Thank you. Then, will you call me Annie?"
"Certainly. But right now ... Terry, why don't you show Annie the guest-room? Perhaps she would like to freshen up before tea? Get yourselves settled and comfortable, and we'll be eating about half-past six. Feel free to come down to the lounge whenever you're ready, of course."
Terry beckoned Anh and showed her the guest-room, which looked out over the river, the Great Ouse. Not that she could see very much in the winter gloom. He showed her the bathroom with connecting doors to the guest-room and his old bedroom.
"Just slip the catch," he smiled, "so I don't walk in on you."
She looked up at him, reached out and took his hand. "Why would you think I'd mind if you did?"
He coloured with embarrassment.
"I am sorry, Terry," she said seriously, "I did not wish to embarrass you. I understand..."
"Annie ... I wish ... No. I am very fond of you. You're very attractive. I'm grateful you've become my friend and haven't pushed me for more ... because it would be very tempting, and that would be unfair to you."
Her face lit up with a smile that he described later as 'warm enough to melt an iceberg.'
"Do you really mean that? You really like me?" I'm attractive to you?"
"Absolutely. I think you're gorgeous. Beautiful, outside and in. My parents ... well, they'll be grilling me later as to why we're not an item. I can hardly understand it myself. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have asked you here. Do you know, you're the first girl ... woman ... I've brought to meet my parents? Am I being unfair to you?"
"Not unfair, honest. Right now, though, I would like a shower. I don't suppose you'd like to scrub my back? Sorry! I'm doing it again."
"Have your shower, Annie, and I'll see you downstairs. I'd better go and face the third degree." He retreated in good order and found his parents in the lounge.
Well, son," his father greeted him, "you've found a stunner there. How did you meet her?"
"She sold me a mountain bike, then asked me for to join her for dinner."
"Yet you aren't ... dating, or whatever the current term is?"
Terry felt a little uncomfortable. "We ... are friends. We do things together; go out for a meal, or a concert, whatever. I suppose it's sort of dating, but ... not a relationship, other than being friends."
"Being friends is a good basis for a long-term relationship," smiled his mother. Your father and I have always been friends."
"I know. But ... I think ... I'm in love with someone else. I didn't say anything when I met Annie, but she ... could tell. She teases me a little, sometimes, but never makes things difficult for me. I think she's lonely. Her parents returned to Vietnam when she was eighteen, but she chose to stay; she's English, with an English passport, and was scared of going to a country she'd never seen with a government that dislikes the West."
"So ... what about this person you think you're in love with?"
"Amy. She's a young widow, with two lovely children, a boy and a girl, twins, five years old. Her husband died – he was much older – about two years ago. Apparently she adored him. Some mutual friends said she had to use extreme measures to get him to acknowledge he loved her. But she's a lovely person. Warm, caring, intelligent ... and very good looking."
"Hm. Are you sure ... you're not just sorry for her? Don't answer that ... just think about it."
Shortly after that, Anh appeared and was offered a drink.
"I, er, don't drink much alcohol. Could I have tea, please? Weak and black?"
When Terry's mother left to make tea, Richard asked, "not to be intrusive, so don't say anything if you don't want to, but ... do you not drink alcohol because you don't like it, or for some other reason?"
"I don't mind saying. Have you heard of 'pathological intoxication'?"
Richard nodded, but Terry said, "I haven't; what is it?"
"A lot of oriental people have a very low tolerance for alcohol. I am one of them. One glass of wine and I am definitely affected. So, I have a very little, very occasionally."
They chatted, then about trivial things, though Terry's parents did insist on the story of how they met, which they both told, each contributing different aspects of the day, and the evening, until it was time to eat.
His mother, over the meal, asked about Anh's religious beliefs.
"I don't have any, really. I'm not sure what my parents believe, if anything. We acknowledged festivals, like Christmas and Easter, but not as religious occasions. New Year, May day, Hallowe'en."
"Do you know about Christmas stockings?"
"No?"
"One traditional part of Christmas, not really a Christian part, but something for the children, is for each person to hang a sock up by the fireplace. Supposedly, Father Christmas, or Santa Claus, or Saint Nicholas ... whatever you want to call him, visits all the houses with children in, all over the world, and if they've hung up a sock and they've been good, he leaves little presents in the sock. We tried to stop them doing it when they became teenagers, but Hilary..." She broke off and swallowed hard, fumbled for a handkerchief and blew her nose... "I'm sorry ... Terry and his sister made such a fuss we had to keep on doing it..."
Anh realised there was some deep sadness she didn't know about as she looked at Terry and his parents. She met Terry's eyes;
"She was out one night with friends; she was only fifteen ... one of the boys was older and had a beat-up old banger of a car. They were driving along, too fast, by a deep dike called the Ramsey Forty-Foot when a tyre burst. The car veered off the road, across a few feet of grass and into the water. None of them got out. It was ... six years ago, but ... it's still vivid," he said, quietly.
After a pause, and after blowing her nose again, Betsy said, "I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to mention it. We didn't want to burden you with our sorrows. Most of the time, we just ... try not to think about it."
"I am glad you did," said Anh softly. Getting up from her chair, she went and kissed first Betsy, then Richard on the cheek before walking round and standing behind Terry. She pressed her breasts against his shoulders, reached round and took a hand in each of hers, and just held him. Looking deliberately at first Betsy, then Richard, she added, "thank you for telling me."
It was only when she felt the wet drops on her hands she realised Terry was crying; she held him tighter still. Betsy and Richard, after watching for a few moments, stood and left the room; Anh continued to hold Terry until the emotion subsided and the tears stopped. Terry squeezed her hands, released them and stood, pushing the chair away; then, impulsively, took her in his arms and held her close. Her heart thumped in her chest and she squeezed back; they stood like that for what seemed like a long time.
"We'd better go find Mum and Dad," Terry said.
She didn't speak, but nodded her head against his chest. As they left the room, though, she said, "Terry ... why don't we go and find a sock apiece?"
He stopped and looked at her. He nodded, "yes, good idea."
A little later, Terry ushered Anh into the lounge; she led the way to the fireplace and hung a sock from one of the small brass hooks in the wood mantle-piece, followed closely by Terry. There was a fire laid, but not lit, in the fire-place
She looked at Betsy, "Terry took one look at my socks and made me borrow one of his," she said.
"Hers are much too small ... of course," smiled Terry.
"Hilary ... always borrowed one of her father's," Betsy managed to say, evenly.
Anh sat on the unoccupied sofa. When Terry joined her, it seemed natural that his arm went around her shoulders and she leaned against him. His parents' eyes met and after a moment Richard rose and put on a selection of carols recorded by the choir of King's College, Cambridge. They all stayed thus, occasionally commenting on the singing, or a particular carol; sometimes explaining some of the traditions of Christmas to Anh, until Betsy and Richard rose.
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