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The cottage came as a surprise to them, although I don’t why. I’d said, in the beginning, that it wasn’t a palace. It was small low building, positioned 50 meters from the bank of the canal at the top of a small rise. It was hemmed in on three sides by vineyards. The building was comprised of one long room on the ground floor, and two bedrooms and a bathroom set into the sloping roof. Outside, there was a terrace that ran the whole south side of the building. A small swimming pool was set back from the terrace at the top of the grassy lawn that sloped down to the bank of the canal.
It had been a derelict worker cottage when I’d first stumbled across it. I had decided to moor Never close to Pete’s farm and walk up through the vineyards to the farmhouse. I had misread the map and had ended up at the edge of Pete’s property. Working my way along the border of the vineyard, trying to find the track I knew led from the farm to the canal, I found the old cottage.
That year’s royalties had just been deposited into my bank account, and I was feeling fairly flush. I convinced Pete to sell me the run down building and the surrounding ten acres of land on the understanding that I would rent the vineyards back to him.
I employed two brothers from the local village to restore the cottage to my satisfaction; it took them the best part of a year. I also had them extend the power, water and Internet connections down to the bank of the canal where we built a wooden staging so I could moor the boat securely.
Alwyn and I secured Never to the bollards set along the staging, and she was finally home again. There was space for a second boat to moor up just behind mine, and Jamal slotted the security team’s boat into the space.
The gravel path leading up to the cottage needed weeding, I noted as I walked up to it with Ali and Julia.
“It’s so cute and lovely,” Julia said as we got close. “And there’s pool; can I use it?”
“Of course, only don’t dive in, it’s not that deep.”
After I’d shown them around, Ali looked at me and asked. “How are we going to do this, Ben?”
“Julia gets the guest bedroom; you can share with her or me, your choice.”
She gave me an exasperated sigh, “Of course I’m in our room. What I meant was where can Sandy, Jamal and the rest of the security team stay?”
“Oh come on, are you telling me they need to stay?”
“I’m afraid so.”
There weren’t many options available, not that I was happy with the situation. “I suppose they can keep their boat moored where it is,” I offered begrudgingly.
“Can they use Never as well?”
“I don’t see why not,” although I wondered if I was making a rod for my own back. I still didn’t understand why Ali insisted on keeping both Sandy and the security teams nearby. In fact, I’d already decided that if they tried to impose any restrictions or there were any issues I’d ask them to leave.
I had my first clash with Jamal the next afternoon. I got an irate call from Pete.
“What the fuck is going on at your place? Some asshole just told Pierre he can’t drive down the track,” Pete said indignantly.
“Fuck, I’ll deal with it. It’ll be one of Ali’s goons. Tell Pierre it’s okay he can use the track.”
“Ali’s there with you?”
“Yeah, it’s a long story, I’ll come up and explain everything later on. Let me sort this out.”
I found Jamal talking to Ali and Sandy on the terrace.
“Ali, I’m sorry, but Jamal and his team are gone. Get them off my property. I won’t have them pissing off my neighbors.”
Ali said, “What are you talking about?”
“One of his idiots just told Pete’s father-in-law that he couldn’t drive down the track, which by the way Pete owns. This is just fucking ridiculous; I know these people, and I have to live here.”
“Look, it’s just a mistake,” Jamal said. “I’ll talk to them and get them to ease off.”
“No, the mistake was me agreeing to let this circus ever invade my life.”
“But,” Ali said.
“No bloody but’s. If you want to stay that’s fine, but just you and Julia. I didn’t buy into your lifestyle; you’re the one who came looking for me.”
Ali stood there dithering, looking from Jamal to me and back again. I had the impression that nobody had made demands of her recently.
Jamal just made it worse. “Look, Ben ... Mr. Mac,” he started. Well, that was a red flag to a bull.
“I am not Mr. Mac,” I snapped. “My fucking surname is McMichael. Ali apparently doesn’t seem to think my name is good enough for her anymore.”
There was a gasp from her, and a muttered “sorry,” from Jamal.
I continued, my voice still tight with anger. “I need to go and placate Pete. I’ll be gone at least a couple of hours. When I get back Ali, this circus needs to be gone.”
I added, “You and Julia are welcome to stay.”
Grabbing a good bottle of wine from the kitchen, I got into the car and prayed the old thing would start. The other door opened and Julia slid in beside me.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Does your mother know?”
“She’s the one who told me I could. She and Jamal need to talk, and I guess it won’t be pleasant. You know that he’s been in love with Mum for years?”
The car started, and I drove up the dusty lane. I’d sort of suspected something of the sort. He couldn’t hide the way he looked at her.
“Does she love him?”
“No, well, not like that. He’s been the head of her security for as long as I can remember. They are best friends, as well as employer and employee. He’s saved her life at least twice that I know of.”
At the top of the lane, I turned left and then almost immediately into the drive leading to Pete’s farmhouse. I pulled up next to Pete’s old Land Rover and stopped the engine.
I said, “Does your mother need all this security?”
“It’s been there for as long as I can remember, Dad. She beautiful and there are a lot of nut jobs out there. The paparazzi are bad enough, but there have been quite a few stalkers. A couple of these fantasists decided if they couldn’t have her, no one would. One tried to stab her, and the other pulled a gun. Jamal got in the way of both of them. I guess the only way Mum is going to get him to leave is if she fires him.”
She gave me a puzzled look, “How is it that you don’t know any of this? It’s all over the gossip rags.”
“I made it my business not to read anything about your mother. So is she going to fire him?”
Julia shrugged, “I don’t know, but if it’s a choice between you or Jamal, you’re going to win. She’s never stopped talking about you. She only ever takes off that pendant you gave her for photo shoots, and it’s the first thing she puts back on. Ricky was pissed that she kept wearing it and your rings when they were together.”
She took hold of my hand and rested her head on my shoulder. “Dad, every room in our homes have photos of you in them. There’s one beside her bed that goes everywhere with her.”
We both jumped as there was a tap on the window beside me, Pete’s 16-year-old daughter, Abigail, was standing there.
I opened the door, and she leaned in and said, “Uncle Ben, Mum wants to know if you’re coming in, or if she should bring your drink out. Oh, hi, who are you?” she asked Julia.
Julia smiled, “I’m Julia, and Ben’s my father.”
We got out of the car, and Abigail gave first me a hug and then Julia.
“He kept you a secret,” Abigail said.
“Mum kept me a secret from him.”
“Oh.”
We followed her around the side of the building and onto the shaded terrace at the rear of the farmhouse. Pete and Sophie were sitting around a table, and their other two children were playing in the pool. I looked for Pierre, as his car was parked outside.
“He’s gone to check the upper fields,” Sophie said, guessing who I was hoping to see. “Is this who I think it is?”
I nodded, “This is Julia, she’s Ali’s daughter.”
“And Uncle Ben’s,” Abigail added.
“Yeah, and mine, too,” I acknowledge. I offered Pete the bottle of wine, and he placed it on the table.
Pete said, “So, Ali’s here! This is the same Ali, who if we dared to mention her name you would jump down our throats?”
“Yep.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Nope.”
Husband and wife looked at each other and burst out laughing.
Pete said, “I take it the big guy with the sunglasses who pissed off my father-in-law is part of her security?”
“Correct, I’m leaving it to Ali to sort it out. I’ve told her to get rid of them while she and Julia are staying at the cottage. Nobody knows that they are here, and all the security is doing is attracting attention.
Julia and Abigail had strolled over to the pool and were sitting on the side, talking with their legs dangling in the water.
Pete looked over at them and said, “She looks like her mother; how old is she?”
“Almost 13, apparently Ali was pregnant when we split up.”
“And you didn’t know?” Sophie asked.
“No, she didn’t know herself until a couple of months later. Remember, I never wanted to know anything about Ali.” I pondered the question for a moment. “Did you know?”
“That Ali had a daughter, or that she was yours?” Sophie asked.
“Both, I suppose.”
“Yes and no, it was common knowledge in the gossip magazines that Ali had a daughter,” Sophie confirmed. “But I don’t think I ever saw a photograph of her anywhere. There was a fair amount of speculation as to the father’s identity. Ali would never be drawn on the name. I always thought that you would have been aware if she was pregnant before you left. You never mentioned it, so I assumed she wasn’t yours. One reason why I never wanted to discuss it with you.”
“Dad, can I go swimming please,” Julia said as she came over to us.
Sophie nodded and said, “I think there are some of Abigail’s old costumes indoors, they should fit you.”
“No need, I’ve got mine on.” She pulled her T-shirt off as she walked back to the pool to reveal a pale blue bikini top. Her shorts came off, and she dived into the pool to join Abigail and the twins.
All three of us sat watching the girls playing in the pool. I drank the wine I’d been poured and basked in the normality of the scene spread out in front of me.
Pete broke into my contemplation. “Are you and Ali going to get back together?”
“Fucked if I know,” I replied. “I’m not sure what her plans are; it’s been 13 years and time changes people. I know it’s changed me, and Ali’s not the same person.”
“But I can tell that you still love her,” Sophie said. “Nobody reacts the same way you did when she was mentioned if they are not in love.”
“I loved the memories I had of the woman I was married to, not the one who walked away from me. I don’t know this 35-year-old woman, and I’m not sure I trust her. She says she knew for a few years where I was. Oh, yes, funny story, that. Sophie, she thought that you and I were living together and the twins were ours.”
“She thought what?” Sophie’s voice reflected her shock.
Pete laughed at the absurdity of it, “So how long has this affair been going on between you?”
“Well the twins are eight so it must have started at least nine months earlier,” I suggested, grinning at both of them.
“So you’ve been cuckolding me for nine years, woman, oh the shame of it!” Pete hammed it up.
“Bloody idiot,” Sophie said with a smile, “and for that, my lover deserves this.” She came over and sat on my lap and kissed me on the lips. I entered into the fun and gave her a quick kiss back before pulling back to look at both of them.
“Seriously though,” Sophie said, “Why would she think that?”
“Office politics, apparently,” I said.
“That makes no sense!”
“It sounds stupid to me as well. From what I understand, around the time she launched the Ali Mac fashion line, Ali confided in someone that if I’d have her back, she drop everything and walk away from the business. This person had his whole fortune invested in the brand and was scared that if Ali left, it would fail and he’d lose everything. He offered to find out what I up to and see if I’d be interested in seeing her again.”
“Did he?”
“Oh, he did! He contacted a French detective agency to send an investigator to sound me out. Ali had told him that I was somewhere in this region. Only he told the investigator that Ali was a wife looking for proof I was an unfaithful husband.”
“Did the investigator know he was looking for Ali Mac’s husband?” Pete asked.
“Ali’s name was never mentioned; he was told to look for a Ben McMichael. It apparently took him a few weeks, but he found out that at one time I was using this farm as a postal address.”
“You still are,” Sophie said. “We still get mail for you; I get the girls to drop it off in your post box.”
“Ah, okay. Well, somehow he got a load of photos of me with you and the twins from around here. I’ve been trying to work out why there were none of Pete and Abigail, unless they edited both of you out.”
“Hang on, when was this supposed to have happened?” Pete asked.
I thought about the timelines that Ali had mentioned. “Must have been four or five years ago. Ali said it was mid-summer in the photos.”
“If it was the summer five years ago,” Pete said, “I took Abigail back to the U.K. that August, and Sophie and the twins stayed here. Abigail was going to stay with my parents for a few weeks. We dropped into Jane’s parents on the way so that they could see their granddaughter. It was only supposed to be an overnight trip for me, yet I ended up staying with them for a week, if I remember.”
Sophie added, “Ben, that was the month you were staying here as you had no water at the cottage.”
Shit, of course, it was. That was the curse of August; all the tradesmen were on holiday. The water for the cottage and the boat came from a borehole. The pump broke down, and I couldn’t get a replacement for a couple of weeks. I’d moved into the spare room at the farmhouse for the duration.
“I suppose it could have been then, but the investigator would only have to ask in the village, and he’d have been able to find out that I didn’t live here.”
“But if he didn’t, then it could have looked like the twins and I were your family.”
“Ali was quite insistent that the evidence had been manufactured.”
Pete shrugged, “I guess we’ll never know; it could just have been an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“Or, carefully edited to make Ali think you had another family,” suggested Sophie.
Sophie brought out a cake and some pastries and took them down to the pool for the children.
“She’s gorgeous, Ben,” Sophie said as she got back to us. “She’s as tall as Abigail.”
“Her mother is five-eleven, I think she’ll be at least that tall.”
“What’s going to happen to her now; what are Ali’s plans?”
“I wish I was sure. Ali says she wants us to get back together, to be a family. She’s waited all these years to tell me I had a daughter, and I get the impression the only reason they are here now is because her daughter forced her hand.”
“Yeah, I was going to ask you why, earlier,” Pete said.
“Julia saw me in a photo a friend of hers posted online. I think Ali was concerned that if she didn’t come with Julia to check it out, Julia would have come on her own. Whatever does happen, I intend to be part of Julia’s life from now on.”
I checked the time, and it was getting on for 6PM. I had wanted to talk to Pierre, but he still wasn’t around.
“Look I need to go and find out what Ali has decided she wants to do. Tell Pierre I’m sorry about this afternoon and it won’t happen again, but I need a favor; can you pass the word around the area that the fact that Ali and Julia are staying with me needs to be kept a secret.”
Pete agreed. Then he asked if I thought that Ali and Julia would want to come to Sophie’s birthday party on Saturday.
“I’ll ask her,” I said. “But whatever Ali decides, I’ll be here.”
I called Julia over, and we made our goodbyes. On the short drive back to the cottage Julia asked. “What’s going to happen if Jamal and the rest of them are still there?”
“Then I’ll know where I stand with your mother.”
“I want to stay with you for the summer; can I, please? And Abigail wants me to come to her mother’s birthday party.”
“I’d like that, but it’ll be up to your mother.”
I pulled the car up by the side of the cottage and looked down towards the canal. The hire boat had gone, leaving Never in her solitary splendor. A lone figure sat on her deck, an iPad in her hands. Sandy raised her hand in greeting, and I gave her a nod. I hadn’t included her in the request, so I wasn’t surprised to see her. She turned her attention back to her iPad, and Julia and I made our way around to the back of the cottage.
Ali was sitting at the table on the terrace, and it looked like she’d been crying. Julia froze by my side. The table was littered with empty glasses and coffee mugs, apparent evidence of a heated meeting.
“They’ve taken the boat back to Carcassonne,” Ali said. “They will stay there until we need to leave.”
She looked up at me, her eyes red, “because of you I’ve just damaged a good friendship, probably beyond repair. Jamal was so much more than an employee. He was a friend, a confidant, one of the few people I could let my hair down around because he didn’t have any agenda, other than keeping me safe.”
“Ali, he had an agenda; he’s in love with you! I told you right at the start I wasn’t willing to change my lifestyle. I don’t want countless strangers keeping an eye on me.”
“I know about his feelings,” she sighed. “But he’s also known that I’ve always loved you. He wants to request another assignment. I’ve told I won’t accept anyone else. Ben, regardless of what happens here, I can’t risk my or Julia’s safety when we leave. We have to have security; I don’t think you understand the risks.”
“I know I don’t, I’ve never had to experience the pressure you are under constantly, but that’s my point; this is my home, and you’re safe here. This is a small farming community, we all look after each other. I’ve already passed the word around to keep your presence here a secret, and I can guarantee that nobody will say anything.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, “Pete wants us to come to Sophie’s birthday party on Saturday. I’ll guarantee that unless you mention it, nobody there will ask you about your life as Ali Mac.”
Ali looked unsure for a moment until Julia said, “Please can we go? Abby wants me to meet some of her friends.”
It took Ali a moment or two to consider and then agree; her daughter squealed in happiness and hugged her.
I looked down to the boat and gestured at Sandy. “I take it she’s staying on the boat?”
“I know you said get rid of the security circus, but I do need her around. I’ve got a lot I need to sort out if I’m allowed to stay here. The business won’t run itself.”
“She was never the problem, she’s welcome to sleep on the boat, but you might as well tell her to come up here if you need her.”
Ali nodded and called down to Sandy. She made her way up to us and sat down at the table.
Ali asked me, “Is Sandy invited on Saturday?”
“It’s a birthday party for Sophie, Pete’s wife’s,” I explained to Sandy. “We’re all going, and I’m sure Sophie would be happy if you were to come as well.”
Sandy seemed to take a glance at Ali before she answered. “I’d like to join you.” Then she pulled out her phone and said, “I’ll tell security to organize a team.”
I plucked the phone from her fingers. “No damn it, what did I say about security earlier? These are friends of mine, and we don’t need any security goons.”
She visibly swallowed and then nodded her understanding. I placed the phone back in her hands.
Sandy spent the next couple of days at the cottage, only returning to the boat to sleep. I was comfortably off, Ali, on the other hand, was rich with a capital R and still had to run her businesses.
I was shocked to find out how much her decision not to attend the autumn Paris fashion week was potentially going to cost her. Her fees alone for modeling at two of the fashion shows would have in the thousands of pounds, and that was nothing compared to the orders she would generate for her own fashion business.
We were sitting on the terrace, Julia was in the pool with Abigail, and the two girls were enjoying each other’s company and seemed to have become close friends, despite their age difference.
Sandy was becoming more upset and frantic with Ali. There had been several heated discussions between the pair of them that stopped as soon as I appeared.
Finally, after a day of half aborted conversations, it came to a head, and Sandy threw caution to the wind.
“You just can’t cancel on Maurice’s show,” Sandy argued. “He’s supported you for years; it’s the last he’ll be in charge of before he retires, and so many of the items are designed with you in mind.”
“I can’t, I know how important it is to him, but I just can’t,” Ali said. “I’ve got a chance to get my life back, and I’m going to grasp it with both hands. I put my damn career before my marriage once before, and I’m not going to do it again.”
“It’s not like you to let people down,” I said as I sat down beside them, and regretted what I’d said immediately. Ali gave me a hurt look and started crying. Shit, I honestly hadn’t meant it as a dig.
“Ali, that’s not what I meant. Forget what happened between us, but in all the years I knew you I can’t remember you ever letting a friend down once you agreed. What does all this entail?”
Sandy responded. “Ali had agreed to model for both Maurice and Christiana’s shows at the fashion week. Plus, there are the events we have planned for the Ali Mac brand.”
“When is it?”
Both of them looked surprised at my lack of knowledge. “Fashion week, “Ali said.
I sighed, “You’ll have to be a bit more detailed than that, love.”
“It’s the last week in September, this year,” contributed Sandy. “We were scheduled to be in Paris for the best part of two weeks.”
“So,” and I made a show of checking the calendar on my phone. “It looks like I’m free those weeks. Want me to come with you?”
Ali’s face lit up, “You would, you will?”
“I’ve missed seeing you on the catwalk.” I had an ulterior motive; I wanted to see how much, if anything, Ali was willing to give up. I was also going to be intrigued to see how Ali was going to explain my presence.
“And you can’t imagine how much I missed seeing you at the shows. There’s so much I want to show you,” Ali said. “But I’m not going to change my mind. I want to stop modeling and concentrate on the business. Sandy, I need you to call and let them know I’ll be there, but this will be the last time I’ll be on the catwalk for any other fashion house.”
That evening I gave into my baser desires. Ali had been bubbly all evening, discussing the logistics of fashion week with Sandy. She was so much like her old self that I would have thought the clock had been turned back and she was the Ali of old again, the girl of my dreams.
After dinner, Julia had grinned at me and announced she was going to sleep on the boat this evening. Her mother sheepishly looked up at her from my side and nodded her approval.
As soon as Julia and Sandy had left, Ali took my hand and led me upstairs. She performed her version of magic and between one blink and the next, went from dressed to naked. I’d seen her undressed many times over the last few days, but this was the first time I’d seen her naked.
She turned to face me, “Please, Ben, make love to me. I know I don’t deserve you, but I’ve missed that amazing feeling I get when you possess me.”
She looked at me with a mix of desire and hopefulness. “Please, Ben,” she said again.
I can’t help it; I’m a sucker for a beautiful naked woman in my bedroom. My cock thought for me, forcing me to strip and join her on the bed. She pushed me onto my back and grasped my treacherous member before sucking the head into her mouth.
She punished him to within an inch of his life. Sucking and stroking, swelling her sensual tongue along the quivering shaft.
“Ohhh, fuccckk,” I groaned out, so eloquent in spite of the waves of pleasure coursing through my groin.
“I’m gonna cum,” I gasped out, my fingers tangled in her hair.
She just sucked harder, and with eyes squeezed tightly shut, I spent myself in waves of pleasure into her welcoming mouth. My world is contracting to the spurts of seed that burned with agonizing pleasure as they coursed along my cock.
Ali never released her grip as I filled her mouth, sucking and swallowing until she had extracted the last drop, and still, she didn’t stop. Traitorous me never stood a chance. There was no opportunity to soften and hide his shame. Ali’s mouth kept him hard and eager to betray me again.
Ali straddled me and with a long groan of pleasure and satisfaction, slid her pussy down the length of my cock. We bottomed out with about an inch of my hard cock left outside. Her pussy was tight, far tighter than I remembered, squeezing the traitor inside her, resisting his assault. She groaned and gasped, quivering for a second then remained still. We kissed, and now my mouth betrayed me, our tongues mating, I could taste myself on her probing tongue.
Ali groaned, “Push,” she demanded. “Fill me, take back what was always yours.”
I pushed up, and the last inch easily slipped inside the slick wet passage. We rested this way for a minute, hearts beating in unison, then I grasped her waist and rolled her over onto her back. She eagerly wrapped her legs around my waist, pinning me to her. I caressed her breast and had my tongue in her mouth. I shifted my hips, changing my angle of penetration slightly, and my hard thrusting cock came in contact with her G-spot.
Ali came apart. She screamed, invoked the name of God and calling me the son of the devil in the same breath. Her breath came hard and fast; she was gasping to fill her lungs. She was whimpering and crying at the same time and trying to tell me to fuck her harder.
She cried out, screaming, “l can feel your cock growing and throbbing inside me.”
Her body went into some kind of earthquake mode. She was the only woman I’d ever had do this. She was shaking so hard that little ripples were running across her skin in all directions. She was lost in the beginning of one violent orgasm. I kept up my efforts, long deep strokes through her G-spot. After what seemed an age, I came, filling her with cum. I would stop moving and hold her at my deepest penetration, spasm, then do it again. It went on and on for me. I lost myself in the moment.
I started back to reality. I found Ali lying in my arms, curled up around me. She was panting, and her heart was pounding. I wasn’t sure she was truly conscious.
Her eyes fluttered, and she raised her head and focused her eyes on me. She said, “Wow,” and lay her head back down on my shoulder. Her legs dropped away from my waist, and my softening member, having completed his traitorous mission, slipped out of her.
I’d like to say that we made love all night. We didn’t; we were so emotionally drained by the earlier event that we curled up in each other’s arms and quickly fell asleep.
I woke in the early light of the morning; I have no idea how Ali did it. After the passion of the previous night, I guessed I looked and felt like something the cat had dragged in. She, on the other hand, looked serene; she glowed with an inner brightness. She lay on her back with an arm draped across my torso. Her long black hair splayed out on the pillow, framing the contented smile that lit up her features. Her body stretched languidly beside me, a sheet tangled around her long sinuous legs. The tuft of black curly hair at the apex of those legs, matted with streaks of dried cum, was the only real evidence of our lovemaking.
I managed to ease out of bed without waking her and relieve the pressure on my poor bladder.
A shaft of early morning golden sunlight from the open windows flowed over the woman on the bed. My camera was on my desk, and I managed to capture some images before Ali opened her eyes.
“If you’ve finished playing around,” she murmured, “you need to get back here and fuck me again.”
My body involuntarily told her yes, but I hesitated. I sat down on the side of the bed. “Ali, love, I’m scared,” I told her.
She sat up and slid behind me, her arms wrapping around me. “Why, love?”
“I don’t know if I could face it if you were to reject me again,” I said.
“I never meant to hurt you, Ben,” Ali said, and she kissed the back of my neck. “I know I made a big mistake, but it’s not one I’m ever going to repeat. If only you’d waited for me a bit longer, I’d have come to my senses, and this may never have happened.”
“So we just start fresh, forget the last 13 years, is that what you want?”
“Yes, please.” She said. “Ben, I was faithful to you for most those years, and I would have been faithful for all of them if those bastards hadn’t lied to me.”
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