Simpleton Peck
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Simple LoveChapter 2 free porn video
My proposal and Felicity's subsequent refusal at least clarified our relationship. Her position as my ... partner ... was acknowledged and accepted by both of us and by Anji; there was no need for any manoeuvres at bed-time and one of the new wardrobes was assembled in my ... our ... room instead of the attic, which Anji had all to herself. That seemed to please her. She gave the two of us plenty of space, but without isolating herself; she was as likely to cuddle up to me as to her mother if we watched a film together, and if I were unoccupied, was quite likely to plonk herself in my lap for a cuddle.
In previous years, if I hadn't got a current girl-friend, I had been in the habit of visiting my parents in Cambridge. I spoke to them and consulted with my girls with the result we spent the Christmas holiday in Cambridge. I rented a car – a Passat, this time – and we travelled down. The first full day we were there, Felicity sent me out with Anji to look round the city. Anji surprised me by taking my hand, then again when she wanted to investigate the many bookshops. It's hardly possible to avoid the beautiful architecture of the University colleges and she looked round thoughtfully.
"It would be rather special to study here, wouldn't it?" She looked up at me. "Such beauty and such an atmosphere..."
I nodded. "As long as you know what you're trying to achieve," I commented, "get good grades and choose your college carefully, why not?"
She looked up at me, wide-eyed. "Do you think so?"
"I haven't seen your grades, but you seem to me to be bright and serious enough to have a chance," I said.
Lunch was very relaxed. Afterwards, Mum insisted on giving me a tour of her garden; something of a tradition despite my lack of knowledge or real interest in plants. While we were out there, she stopped me near the bottom of the garden, looking at a row of Brussels sprouts that, for me, were only of interest as an ingredient of a meal.
"Felicity told us about her history, how you came to meet."
"Oh?"
"She's very brave, you know."
I looked at her, but she was frowning at the brassicas.
"I think you've taken on a huge responsibility, Peter," she turned to look at me, "but your father and I approve. We've always been proud of you, Peter, but this ... It's going to be hard. We're pleased you've found someone at last. We hope it works out for you all. We'll pray for you and we hope you'll visit regularly."
Christmas was a family affair, and wonderful. Felicity could cook, f'sure, but feeling under the weather as she did, it was good that Mum took the main responsibility for the turkey. Anji helped and Mum taught her some of her secrets. Her cheerful helpfulness impressed both my parents...
Once Christmas was over, we were back in Sheffield. Anji started school at King Ted's, Felicity started treatments, a combination of radio- and chemo-therapy which really laid her low. Anji and I did all we could to tempt her appetite with easy to eat and digest meals. Theresa, my boss, was very good about giving me flexible hours and time off. Once the initial course was done, she picked up and we were able to celebrate Anji's exam success; mostly 'A's, with a couple of 'B's and a 'C'. I think if her schooling hadn't been interrupted, she'd not have got that 'C'. Her mother's health didn't really help, of course.
I haven't mentioned the motor-bikes, my preferred mode of transport. Sadly inappropriate to our circumstances, so languishing in my lock-up garage. Both girls tried the pillion of my Norton Dominator. Anji liked it. So did Felicity, but she just couldn't cope physically with it and, or course, there were three of us to transport. Reluctantly I bowed to the inevitable and bought a two-year-old Ford Focus.
Anyway, once school was out and Felicity had enough time to recover from the latest course of treatment, we took a two-week holiday in Wales. Ordinarily I'd have camped; very basic camping, using only what I could carry on the bike. In the circumstances, though, B. & B. made better sense. Felicity and Anji enjoyed the time out of all proportion to what I expected. Felicity hadn't had a holiday of any sort since before Anji was born and Anji herself had been used to occupying herself with whoever among her friends happened to be around.
Speaking of friends, most of them lost interest when she suddenly disappeared from her neighbourhood and they ignored her messages, but she kept in touch through Facebook with the one or two who could accept her need to be discreet about where she was now living. She made some good friends in Sheffield, too. Felicity and I were both pleased she was out and about while maintaining her study habits. We were very pleased when she brought home a studious lad, who was very polite and serious; Andrew Holmes. He remained in evidence throughout her 'A' level years.
The second Christmas we were together, I was beginning to hope Felicity had beaten the odds. She'd gained some weight, her hair was growing again and the lumps had shrunk. Her breasts had gained some of their old firmness too. Our love-life ... was good. Life was good. I had, to all intents and purposes, a wife and daughter.
Anji was doing really well in her studies; 'A' levels in English, Language and Literature, History and Classics. Two 'A' stars and two 'A's at AS level were cause for celebration and she applied to Cambridge, Nottingham and (though I didn't know at the time) Sheffield, to read English.
It was in Anji's second 'A' level year the blow fell; Felicity's cancer had returned and this time failed to respond to treatment. We thought we'd managed to keep the truth of her condition from Anji, who continued to study hard. The doctors were very kind, and there were palliative treatments that minimised the discomfort, but there was little they could do except help her to be more comfortable.
All three universities offered Anji a place, subject to grades, of course. She finished her exams in May and I told her the truth about her mother's condition. She hugged me and we held each other for what seemed like a long time.
"I knew," she said quietly, "but I didn't say anything. I didn't want you to worry about me as well as Mum. I think I've done well. I want her, I want you to be proud of me."
"Always," I said.
She went to her mother and I left them to be together while I prepared our next meal.
We began to go to our local church – St. Jude's. There was no Vicar at the time, but an elderly retired priest served there, Harry Banks. Stout, not tall, with a fringe of white hair round his bald head; a gentle, serene, perceptive and wise man. But most of our support came from a young couple. I say young, Ted was a year or two younger than me and Rosie was a year or two older than Anji. The first time we went, Mr. Banks told the congregation that if there was anyone who needed prayer, they were to go up to the rail at the end of the service, so we did; Rosie and Ted came over to us and Felicity explained. Rosie prayed for her, but Ted, to my surprise, wanted to pray for me. I don't know what I expected, but I certainly felt calmer when he finished, and Felicity was smiling. She leaned on me as we walked back up the aisle; Anji stayed with Rosie and Ted.
Felicity went in to St. Luke's Hospice in June. They are very skilled at managing ... well, cases like Felicity's. Anji was there most of the time, helping to look after her mother. I went up at least for a short time each day and most of the time at weekends. She always seemed pleased to see me.
She had regular visits from old Harry Banks, often with Rosie Wilson. I don't know the details, but I do know he heard her confession, anointed her with oil and prayed for her. It seemed to be a great comfort to her.
One day in early August I'd taken her outside to sit in the shade of a tree. I lifted her out of the wheelchair – she weighed hardly anything – sat her in my lap and just held her to me.
"Peter," she whispered – it was getting hard for her to talk - "I want you to promise me something."
I didn't know what was coming, of course. "Okay, darling."
"Don't give up on love," she said, "you've loved me very well; there's such love in you, and there's someone out there to take my place in your heart."
"Lissa, I'd given up on love before I met you. This last two years have been more than I ever expected..."
"I know. And it's been more than I ever expected, too. I should have been dead before this and who knows what would have become of Anji if you hadn't taken us in? Peter ... you will look after Anji, won't you? She'll need you..."
"Of course, sweetheart."
Felicity lived to hear Anji's results – two 'A' stars and two 'A's – and to know her daughter would be going to University. She slipped away from us in the night and the hospice called us early in the morning. I took the day off work and Anji and I went up. We sat there, one each side of her bed. It's hard to say goodbye to one you love. Perhaps that's why she left when we weren't there; the body in the bed wasn't Lissa, it was merely an empty shell, bereft of the beauty and life I'd seen in her, that I treasured so. We didn't stay long and left, hand in hand, pausing only to thank the staff who had looked after her.
Harry conducted the funeral, but it was Rosie Wilson who spoke...
" ... some who knew Felicity's past, but didn't know her, might think it strange, but I have no fears for the fate of her eternal soul. Certainly she needed forgiveness – as do we all – but she asked for, received and accepted that forgiveness freely offered in Christ. I am sad that I knew her for such a short time. Anji, her daughter and Peter, in particular will miss her dreadfully, but I hope we can all be thankful that we had the privilege of knowing her..."
True enough, but not much consolation for the hole in my life and the empty space in my bed. Looking back, I didn't give up mainly because of my promise to look after Anji, whose presence helped me enormously. I dreaded ... and felt guilty for it ... the day she would leave for University.
I was sitting watching some documentary or other when she came in; I muted the box to ask when she was planning on going.
"Oh ... I'm not leaving. I've accepted a place at Sheffield."
"You're not? I thought you wanted to go to Cambridge."
"In a way, yes; it was a lovely fantasy. But it's important to me to stay here."
"Well, you're very welcome to stay, Anji. For as long as you like."
She came and sat in my lap and snuggled against me. "I'd miss this too much," she said.
I wanted to say, 'so would I' but kept silent and merely wrapped my arms round her. I supposed we were taking comfort in one another and expected her to get involved in the social life of the university once she started. Indeed, I expected her to keep in touch with her school-friends; which she did to some extent, but I saw nothing of Andrew. I asked Anji about him.
Haven
- 17.06.2021
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