Everything Will Flow

    start of EVERYTHING  WILL  FLOW

  

🚢The car slid into the parking bay facing the river. Neil was blinded by the dancing sparkles the early morning sunshine threw across the water and swiped down his driving visor.  Saskia sat nervously awaiting Beverly, while he sat quite unperturbed, delving into a triple pack BLT, using the case full of money on his lap, serving as a makeshift table. This was the first time since the hostile hospital visit three months prior that she would be meeting her, but her mind was removed from it for a spell as a swan with five cygnets came gliding into view - quite the early morning spectacle.

   'Awe, look,' she cooed, 'they're adorable!' On impulse, she reached over and grabbed Neil's sandwich pack, removing one, at which he instantly made protest.

   'Oi! ... What are you doing? That's my breakfast!'
   'There's three of them, don't be so greedy, you've still got one left!' she told him, getting out of the car and heading for the fluffy family.
   'They're bloody swans, they don't eat bacon!'
   Ignoring his dissent, she delighted in breaking the bread, filling and all, and very bravely let them get close enough to take food from her fingers.  Glancing at Neil (feeling his own inner 'aww' at the tenderness of it) while doing so, she wasn't aware that a small group of geese had sneaked up behind her until one of them honked.  As if taken offence that all the bread had gone to a rival bunch of freeloaders, one started to peck at her leg. Wearing bibbed short dungarees, she felt the contact of its beak against her bared skin - which was really more frightening that painful. But he took great pleasure in watching her do frantic dodges as she tried to escape the feathery onslaught, until movement in his rear-view mirror caught his eye. Beverly pulled up, bang on time.

   'Saskia,' he called, before she exited her car. 'She's here.'
   Neil got out of his, keeping the door open. Placing the crumb-topped briefcase on his seat, he watched as Beverly faffed about. Putting on huge sunglasses, (to hide behind no doubt) she waited until Saskia had joined Neil. Tentatively, Beverly got out and made her way over to them. 

   'Hi.' Saskia smiled, no reference to 'mum' followed. That felt more unnatural to her now than when she was calling Neil 'dad'. Of course, now there was no extrinsic reason to ever use the words mum or dad again.  'Are you all prepared to go?'

   Beverly, wearing a fitting summery outfit, gave her a curt nod and a little smile. 'Just a few ends to tie up, you know.'

   'When do you fly out?'

   'This Thursday. The sale of the house went through virtually straight away, quite a bit over the asking price, too.'

   Not having taken his eyes off her, Neil, still embittered from their clash in hospital, answered,            'We know.'
   Hissing out a sigh, Beverly's look dropped to her new wedged sandals, nodding with fresh realism. Lifting her head quickly back up, she said, 

     'Of course. You bought it.'

 Clicking on, but feeling foolish for not having twigged that no-one in their right mind should be that keen to want to move and settle in the area she'd despised for so many years - at extra expense, too; she'd simply regarded it as luck. She also knew it was a clever move on Neil's part; for whatever the future held, Saskia would have something secure to fall back on.The quick purchase also reflected their eagerness to get Beverly out of their lives as soon as possible.

   Neil hauled the fairly weighty case from the car seat and held it out. 'You'll be wanting this.'                   Holding the case at arms length, Neil stood rigid (apart from a slightly shaky right arm taking the burden) he made her approach him to take it. How he wished she wasn't wearing those damned shades, as he would have liked to have looked her in the eye while doing so.

    'My father's debt, paid in full... and then some.'  Maybe now she now she would end that silent, entitled war within her mind.

   She reached for it with somewhat implied acceptance, and walked back to her car, tucking it right under the passenger seat out of view. Not a word of thanks slipped from her lips, nor did the need to check the amount. It would all be there, that she was sure off. Quid pro quo.

   Despite what had passed, Saskia felt rather torn at the thought of Beverly leaving, and she couldn't say for sure if this would be the last they'd ever see each other.  Over the past few months Saskia had been building barricades rather than bridges with her, had even forgiven her for the frantic beating she endured at Christmas. Saskia was almost thirty, so had been out of sync with life's timeline by still being at home with a parent. Granted, shacked up with a middle-aged, age-torn multi-millionaire was never in either of their future predictions, but it was the best meantime road for her to walk down - despite that road being somewhere she should never have agreed to walk down to start with. Cheating death, however,  had put a peculiar spin on perspectives.

    Kudos to the steely, self absorbed Beverly for such a masterful and complex plan, and allowing nothing to deflect her from her later life's goal. What was meant to fall into a favourable situation for herself, went on to enrich itself at the expense of others. It was almost a ruinous outcome for them all.

   Beverly walked halfway back over to Saskia and stopped, and sat her glasses on her head. 'Can I have a hug?'

   'Oh my fucking God!' Neil said, his hands on his hips in disbelief at the nerve of her.

   'I'm not talking to you,' Beverly snipped back at him, 'I'm talking to my... '

   'Yes, go on...  exactly who are you talking to? One can never be sure around you!'

   'Well, it's not your daughter anymore either now, is it?'

   Saskia quickly turned to face Neil, holding up a hand to silence him, and silently mouthed that she was okay.
   'Of course you can get a hug.'  

   Grasping tightly, both with eyes closed, a sudden flush of genuine sorrow consumed Saskia.  No matter how mad life had become, Beverly did her best to raise her. Taking on her reckless sister's kid, instead of the adoption option, was noble enough, but not plain sailing.  This surrogate mum had been a difficult person to live with and it was pretty clear to Saskia why partners didn't stick around for long.  At times she was blamed as the reason why, and that's rather damaging to a child. Saskia would not forget the good times, they were aplenty - even as the hormonal years kicked in. It was just after her Grampa's death that things went completely haywire.  The mothering past would remain in both their minds. In flashes and in depth. Favourable or not.

  Beverly let go first, holding Saskia by the shoulders and with watery eyes asked, 'Are you sure you won't come, too?' She gave Neil a quick glance. 'It's not too late.' 
   Saskia responded by shaking her head slowly, and smiling sheepishly, knowing that all it will take is one Spanish cocktail, and a wink from a waiter, and Beverly's guilt and the past will be swirled away with the ice.  

   Beverly nodded. 'Well, there will always be a place for you in Spain if you ever change your mind.' One finger stroked down the soft cheek of a face she'd kissed and cursed a million times, then headed back to her car.  Before getting in, she dropped the glasses down her nose and called, 'Any message for your... mum?'            

   'Yeah,' she called back, 'tell her her little reject's doing okay.' 

   With a one sided corner smile, she gave a final nod to her one-time daughter, but repudiated the first love of her life completely. As far as she was concerned that case full of money held all her rightly goodbye's from him, there was no need to look his way.  Saskia watched and waved as she drove off and Beverly lifted a hand once in exchange and appeared to wipe away a tear; crocodile or true salt, one would never know. 

   Neil went straight over to Saskia and hugged her protectively against him, kissing and smelling her strawberry-shampooed hair. 'Okay?' he asked her.

   'Yup,' she answered, but he wasn't convinced.

   'Are you sure?'

   'Yeah, well, it does feel a little strange knowing I might never see her again.'

   'I don't think it'll be forever, although I reckon she and I are done with each other now. She'll want to meet you again at some point, Saskia, but you need a loooong break from her.'

   A tighter snuggle into him was felt before she told him, 'I'm sorry she had a dig about the whole daughter thing. That wasn't called for.'

   'Hey, we know only too well what she's capable of. Being nasty might make her feel better, but it won't heal her - it'll only make her cesspit all the more putrid. She'll always be swimming in it but you managed to pull yourself out, you got to give yourself credit for that.'

   'Nicely put!' Saskia looked up to give him a smile, before resting against his chest again. 'I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for it, though.'

   'Look...  having a daughter, even briefly, gave me something I may well never have known. It was short and sweet, but it's over now, and you know you're forgiven.'

   And she was. Countless times he'd reminded her that she'd really only been a pawn in Beverly's needless game of greed and revenge. But it was over now, and for all the craziness they'd endured it had ultimately brought them together. He never imagined for one second how such a fucked-up encounter would not only change his life, but create an entirely new one. If he was honest enough, she'd brought him to back to tasting bits of life before big money kicked in. With her in it, the future now would categorically refuse to ever go to plan, and the challenge of that alone continued to excite him. 

   'All credit to you, kiddo,' he added, admiringly, 'you handled her more decently than she deserved.'

   'I just wanted it to be as easy a goodbye as possible.'

   'Even after all she's said and done? Hell, I struggled for control.'

   'She didn't quite rip our lives apart, though, did she?'

   'No,' Neil let out a huge thankful sigh, and rested his chin on her head, 'she didn't. So, do you think you'll ever be able to wipe the slate clean with her?'

   'I've got to, it's only fair to give forgiveness a chance.'

   'D'you think?' 

   'Yes.'

   'Won't you find that a bit hard?'

   'No.'

   'Why?'

   She pulled back to look at him. 'Because you gave me one... didn't you?' 

   On tiptoes, she reached up to kiss him, to which he duly reciprocated, long and lingering. A public display that could incite either approval (coz he's an old guy) or offence (coz he's an old guy) from the growing morning walkers to the park, but Neil now felt an attitude of who-gives-a-damn as second nature. In fact, he quite enjoyed the objectionable stares when they got cozy in public - especially the ones that read that such passion has no business being there. Stuff society and decorum and its ruddy infra digs. They'd been through enough emotional acrobatics to last a lifetime - and with life in its latter stage, he didn't care if it's remainder was wholesome or not. Now was their time, and the sun over the waters of the Mediterranean would surely set into serenity, erasing all recent horrors and producing yet-to-discover worldly delights.       

                   *                                            *                                     *                                 *
Their cases and trunks were packed and loaded on board. Saskia had never before found herself staring up at such a massive hunk of iron. Neil's own private, lesser-chunk-of-iron that upped and downed the Thames was impressive in it's own right, but this was scarily breathtaking; it was hard to comprehend how water kept such things afloat. Neil adored the look on her face as she gathered her bearings. This cruise ship was astounding in its scale, the gangway itself seemed to go on forever, and there would be even more extensive jaw-dropping to do once on board.

      The door to their room read: Sea Symphony, Regency Suite.  A young, rather handsome ship personnel member had shown them into the suite and was tipped generously. He had another look at the gorgeous Saskia on his way out while Neil read his mind, which highly likely amounted to; the lucky old bastard.  But she was oblivious to any fanciful thoughts as even by this early stage in their plans she had died and gone to this briny Heaven! 

They had a whole mid-ship apartment to themselves.  Every home requirement - above and beyond - was provided;  living room vast and leathery (each sofa twelve feet long) with a dining table for guests: mirrors, modern art and 60 inch plasma screens on the walls surrounding them as huge, unconventional, crown-of-thorns-like lighting hung above them. Fresh flowers adorned every room, including the marbled bathroom, which had brand new free gratis slippers and bathrobes. 

   It was strange for the two man bed sleeping quarters to be titled as such, as the bed could comfortably accommodate an orgy! On opening the wall enclosed cupboards, their clothes and shoes were already neatly hanging and paired off.  Each room she encountered was like the opening of an advent calendar door, as her inhales of surprise got louder.
  Back in the living area, Saskia assumed the long row of curtains was meant to block the left-hand view of the sea, just like the bedroom ones blocked the right. But she was mistaken. With a motion akin to unveiling a plaque, Neil pressed a button on the wall, and the curtain slid aside with barely a whisper. Behind it was a veranda meant for them alone; decked out with loungers and pretty-but-false window-boxed flowers along the railings.

  Here, they could look down on other passengers (them and one other pair who filled the only other luxury suite) and enjoy various amenities on this Lido deck, including their own pool and hot tub. There was only one other luxury suite that thankfully was on the opposite side - Saskia didn't fancy having neighbours alongside of them.

   Treading like there could be land mines underfoot, she stepped out on to the veranda gingerly, in total awe. She used to remark at how the rich must be exhausted from constantly having to outdo themselves, but right now was happy to feel like one of the aloof elite - bog standard hadn't a Buckley's on the this trip.

  She couldn't wait to be bathed in unfamiliar, afternoon sunlight, and letting its rays help the past vanish into obscurity.

   'Neil, this is amazing!' she sniffed. 'Never in my wildest dreams... '

   'Och, Jesus, woman, are you sniveling again? You should have come with a crying control, I've never been through as much Kleenex in all my puff... ' 

   'I know, I'm sorry... I sometimes still can't---'
   'Hey!' Neil cut in, before she added anything unworthy of herself.  'For what we've been through - especially you - we deserve this. so no more nonsense, okay?'

   Grabbing him in a semi-pathetic bear hug, resisting the itch to rub her nose on his shirt, she told him once again - not that she needed to - that she loved him. 'It's hard to believe we're actually here. 

   ' I know... and soon we'll be lost in the midst of the Mediterranean Sea... '

   'I meant where 'we' are.'

   'Well, when you think of it, I stopped being me, and you stopped being you, the day we became us. That's the best way I can describe it. We're heading on as the new us, okay, and all other past shit has to be washed away with the water, okay?'

   'Aye, aye, Captain... '

                                                                                *

They never really made a plan for their adventure, deciding to just take things as they came. Whatever  port the itinerary docked at, whatever sun kissed city lured them to it, they would gladly explore. Neil didn't think there was a scrap of culture about her at first, but she was keen to visit the renaissance churches and art galleries -so not quite so boring as he'd first feared when spending time as her father. As long as they go on a Gondola, buy an outfit from every country they visit and 'stop at any place where monkeys steal your bag and pull your hair', she'd be more than happy. 

   For now she was elated enough to not leave her veranda, and the boat hadn't even left the port yet!  Neil suggested an aperitif, food not really mattering right now. With room service or the dining hall virtually on tap (where patrons were asked to be clad in finery if dining after eight in the entertainment area), your tummy could rumble at all hours of the day - although Saskia wondered how the hell he was going survive for two months with nothing to cook! 

   Neil suggested a cocktail on the bow (which was fairly empty right now) to mark the start of their voyage.  The past year and a bit would be an aberrant memory for them both, where a plan had fallen through and succumbed to hard loss with magnanimity  But underneath all the potency and pretence that had passed, she had become his happiest regret since losing his wife. Magrette had felt the love of his life, Saskia, his flakey love-interest hereafter. For how many more years he didn't quite know. Her body would still be perky and firm in ten years' time, God knows what would be next to drop for him - or if he'd still even be around! But right now he didn't give a toss.

   Saskia sat at one of the bow's rinky-dink tables, excitedly awaiting that first cocktail kick as Neil sat a huge glass of something red, blue and green, (trussed up with all the usual umbrellas and whatnot) in front of her. They had changed into more summery gear; floaty dress for her, checked short-sleeved shirt and long shorts for him. Despite the sun hiding under a few grey clouds, the holiday had started. 

   While Saskia was getting a little intoxicant-verbose for him, she could tell he wasn't really listening to her inane drivel; instead, a stupid grin crossed his face.
   'Okay... what's up with you?' she asked with a huge frown.
   'Who do you think we should be on this trip?'
   'How d'you mean?' she asked, even more confused.
   He flitted a hand back and forth between them. 'You know - old guy, young thing, sharing the same room. We could have fun with this.'

   Then she clicked on, he meant like thrill and freedom to act accordingly as lovers despite the disparity of their ages. 

   'Ah, you mean like a teacher and pupil thing?'

   He leaned forward and mirrored her expression. 'Hmm, aye, sort of ...' 
   'Okay ... ah, priest and parishioner?' she tried.
   'Don't know much bible.'

   'Doctor and nurse?'

   'Nah, too common. Probably be loads on board.'

   'Doctor and patient, then?'

   He tutted. 'They wouldn't reveal that, would they?'

   'No, that's true, they'd probably just say they were married.'

   'Yup ... and where's the fun there?'

   'There ain't any!' she quipped, palms upwards, giving a shrug.

   'So?'

   Army Major and cadet?'
   'Getting better.'
   'Dinosaur and explorer?' 
   'Getting ridiculous!'
   'Yeah, you're probably right - we'd never be able pull something like that off.'
   'Hey!' He pointed a finger at her. 'Any more of that kinda talk and you're grounded, young lady!'
   'Tsk ... I'd like to see you try!' she joked.
   Under the table, Neil lifted his foot upon the front edge of her chair and gave a firm and solid push.  Saskia screamed as she toppled back, unsuccessfully trying to grab the table edge on her way down, legs akimbo, almost doing a backwards tumble. This caught the attention of a few others on deck, and it was politely supposed by them to have been a silly accident and not purposeful fun and vulgarity.            Rolling and pushing herself to her feet, she slid the table aside, making space to settle on Neil’s lap facing him. Looping her arms around his neck, she declared, “Sugar daddy it is, then!”          
    end of EVERYTHING  WILL  FLOW

  

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Flowers In The Window

               

          start of   Flowers In The Window

💐Neil, and the staff of Rowan Lea  discussed her long haul back to normality in vast detail. They weren't wrong when they claimed to have the latest high-tech equipment. The anti-gravity treadmill and she were getting on famously. Since the day her mother more or less stopped giving a shit about her, her determination to bounce back to spite her was all the focus she needed. In only a few days her levels of impetus to her cause were astounding. 

  The beginnings of her restoration had taken a longer (hence the very early bed exercises to keep muscles and circulation going in preparation of the more challenging stuff) due to her broken tibia and head wound, but boy, was she forging ahead - like a late developing short kid, who all of a sudden sprout inches overnight. Neil was in awe of her turnabout, and relieved that she was no longer bedfast and now joining in all of the sub-specialty units: the hydrotherapy in particular, where your partner gets offered the chance to join you in the pool (which he declines) worked wonders.

   Her biggest thrill was when progress went well enough to introduce her to the centre's Thursday Therapy Dog - a charity that Rowan Lea supported - where owners brought in their pets to befriend and allowed patients to take out walks in the garden. Saskia was partnered with Millie, a five month old golden labrador, utterly beautiful and playful. Visit-clashing one Thursday, Saskia took devilish delight in watching Neil's hand jerk back from Millie like a big wuss when she encouraged him to pet her, and for the rest of Millie's visit he spent giving the dog side looks terrified to make eye contact with her. Most definitely, he was not and never had been an animal person. 

Check-out day was almost upon her. Neil sat on a bench by the wall in the well-equipped utility room. All other courses and caterings  - medical and mental - had been given the green light. The only one to go was the most important physical test. 

   The treadmill buzzed into life and her feet picked up a steady pace. A walk became a march, became a  trot, became a run. Neil rose and stood at the end of the machine, calling out encouragement, egging her on, his heart beating quicker with the pace of her feet. She'd done it. Passed the required score with flying colours, and just to be a show off, she notched up the speed dial and jumped straight from the moving belt and into Neil's quick-reacting arms, where he birled her around a few times in pride and jubilation. Tomorrow she would be discharged.  

                                  *                                         *                                 *

All her belongings had gathered on the bed. Now the day had come to be leaving what had been her home for a quarter of a year.  From time to time Neil wondered how she would react to fending for herself after being institutionalized for so long, but her Rowan Lea Personal After-care Brochure was designed purely for her (as it were for each individual paying around £600 per day), which they entrusted her to follow rigorously.  She had worked with the staff laboriously hard and intended to keep it up once she was home. From today, Neil took a full fortnight off work (to the delight of his staff) as a settling-in period for her, and to monitor where things go from there. No-one, though, let Beverly know of her homecoming. That she would have to find out for herself. Saskia did leave permission with Rowan Lea to disclose the fact that she had vacated rehab, but not to give a forwarding address.  It'd be pretty obvious to Beverly where she was, but Neil wanted her to sweat a little. One thing was for sure -  she'd want the numeric ball to start rolling sooner than later.

  

They were waiting impatiently for the presence of Dr. Harness and a prescription from the pharmacy before they could say their final farewell. For utmost comfort, Saskia chose a garishly multi-coloured but-ever-so-comfortable jogging suit to travel home in.

   Opening the wardrobe door for a view in the full length mirror, Saskia slowly raised her sweater to reveal how the damage the glass from her fall left her with was faring now. The cicatrix scarring from the wound had now begun to blend in with her skin tone, but the developing pull of new skin left a huge scoop just above her hipbone. Wearing tight tops would show the disproportionate waistline up even more - quite a hard thing to accept for a such a clothes queen.  Already she had decided that bikinis would always be a no-no.

   Repeating a question to Saskia with no answer, Neil caught her looking into the mirror, not listening to his trivial chatter for staring-out her reflection, her eyes focused on the traumatic reminder there for life.  

   'My God, look at it. It's deep. Raw. Ugly.' 

   Neil stopped what he was doing and came up behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder, arms around her, staring at the reflection of the two of them.

   'All I can see is a beautiful creature and one helluva lucky old raptor,' he told her.  His hand glided down past her waist, settling into the scoop of the missing flesh. Whispering, he said,  'Look at that... fits my hand perfectly.'   

   Saskia rested her own right hand on top of his, reaching up with her other to stroke his cheek; her empathetic tower of strength. At times, she couldn't believe that he'd stuck by her, often convincing herself that he only told her he loved her just to help make her well again to assuage any guilt. Yet here he was with her on her discharge day, taking her home. She'd taken root in him like no other soul had, and fully invested now. By fair means, not foul, he had made her whole again. The forgiveness had grown and eventually accepted.

   In one unexpected motion, he twisted her round to face him, the action making her gasp. Today was home day, no sorrow allowed. 

   'What are you doing!?' she lightly laughed. 

   Cupping her face in his hands, he landed a very much needed deep and desperate kiss upon her.   'I can't wait to get you home to test out that new hip!' he said cheekily grinning.

   'Ah. Ah. Ah!' She wiggled a windscreen-wiper finger at him, 'Not recommended right away, you'll have to wait a bit for that, Raptor!' she teased. In between daft nonsensical exchange, she continued sorting her belongings. 

   Their rackety dalliance flitted its way down the corridor and drew the attention of another patient Saskia had gotten fairly close to. A rather good looking dark-haired lad of around Saskia's age, knocked on the open door and quietly stepped in to find Neil sitting on the edge of her bed, arms around her waist pulling her to him as he swung  his feet back and forth like a bored schoolboy.  

   Saskia was playing with his hair, teasing him about needing a haircut while giving him severe side and middle partings with her comb; it really was all fawning giggles and love-sick puppy stuff. Feeling most uncomfortable Nigel tried to turn and sneak away, but caught both their eyes.

   'Nigel! Sorry, never heard you there - please come in,' Saskia invited, as the pair of them parted respectfully. She could only imagine how that must have looked to him, but she was glad it did. 

   'I was told you're going home today, just wanted to say goodbye and wish you luck.'

   'That's really sweet of you.'

   The lad's face was familiar to Neil, the boy was recovering from spine and brain trauma if he remembered correctly. He ruffled his overgrown waves into partial order and slid down from the bed giving them space for a private farewell. 'I'll go find out if the doctor's going to be much longer. Won't be long.' 

   They stood in a bit of a strained silence, until Neil's footsteps faded. Saskia spoke first.

   'It's sometimes easier letting people think he's my father, it's the automatic assumption anyhow.'

   'I see... makes what I walked in on a bit more... ' He wanted to say wanted to say 'acceptable' but stopped himself as he wasn't sure he agreed with that, and it showed rather awkwardly on his face.  

   'Hey - don't feel bad a bout it, we know there will be loads more raised eyebrows and disapproval to come, we'll have to get used to it.'

   'Fooled me,' he said, rather forlornly, 'but I kind of get it, umm... as I said, I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you well.'

   She moved closer and gave him a huge hug, and would never forget that bond they had. She understood how he felt when he described how the lining of his brain felt as if it had been branded by a hot iron after surgery. Lives akin.

   'Thank you, Nigel. I'll miss our subs and our overdosing on nightly Horlicks!'

   'Yeah, the ruddy stuff never worked for us, did it?

   'That it did not...!'

   Nigel's smile faded. 'I'll miss you.'

   'And me you.'

   And there, a tad crestfallen, he walked out of the room saying no more.

   There was only a very select and confidential few from Rowan Lea that knew of the actual relationship status of Neil and Saskia, and Nigel was one of the first to discover by chance the true nature of them.  There would be no reason now for them to shy away and protect themselves from public scrutiny, nor give any second thought to caution, but they still wouldn't be shouting their truth from any rooftops. Most will still assume they were father and daughter, and it would be hard for her to shake off that father-figure feeling. But people could judge them in all their age-gap glory, in whatever manner they chose. They weren't too fixated on decorum the time she was his daughter, and people can react how they please now she was merely his lover.  Overlooking ignominy he would, in a way, miss the little lift taboo brought along with it. Doesn't everyone sit at the intersection of what they shouldn't have in life and pick and risk chances?

   It was another twenty-five minutes before Dr. Harness appeared. Saskia had already said most of her farewells. Rowan Lea would be missed. It had been her settlement and haven, her new confidence and company where immediate attention was catered for by the flick of a switch or push of a button. Neil himself had gotten used to the journey there, enjoying the calming, scenic surroundings. He'd probably miss her room too, as he was always shuffling about in it and tidying her things. Her room's window had some view for this constant emptier of bins. But before she went there was one last pledge to undertake.

   Neil carefully removed the present-hanging canvas on the wall that was to be swapped with the one Saskia had delineated. At arms length, he studied the vision it held.

   Saskia had painted a rough stone wall with a Victorian post box embedded into it. In front stands a barefooted little girl in a blue dress, side on, as a strong wind blows her dress and hair forward, hiding her profile. A letter she was about to post gets whipped out of her hand before she has the chance to post it. In her other hand she's holding a stringed, lilac balloon that keeps perfectly upright and not affected by the force of the wind.  

   'This is pretty good,' Neil stated, not quite believing that she had any creative side to her other than woodwork and make-up. He figured her art therapy teacher guided her on colour, tones and shadows to bring the picture into being, but the concept was all hers. 'What does it say? Is it titled?'

   'I don't know, it's not mine, remember? It's for whomever resides in this room after me.' 

   Neil knew her well enough now to work out what the subject matter of her art was saying, and that he was there if she needed to use brushstrokes ever again. Taking one last look around her, Saskia then closed the door. From the car park she looked up at the room window she'd been occupying. Heaven knows how many bouquets had bloomed and shrivelled on its sill. It was strange to see it bare. 

             

The car felt warm and stuffy, but ever so joyous to be in, as the city centre was drawing them in magnetically with an almighty, welcoming pull. Saskia's eyes were flicking through the streets, from shop to shop, building to building, face to random face and it kind of felt alien to her. So they said very little on this journey home, but since approaching London from the motorway, Neil was bursting to speak.  

   'I've a little surprise back at the flat for you', he said, with an 'I've been up-to-something' grin on his face.       

   'Like what?' she replied, frowning. 

   'You'll see.'

   She hoped the place wasn't filled with balloons or worse still, flowers - she'd had enough fragrance and foliage to last her a lifetime.  A fleeting thought of even worse horror popped up. Surely he wouldn't have bought a puppy? As much as she loved and will miss Millie, there's no way she wanted to shovel shit into a bag up to four times a day. She berated herself for such a fret thought as, realistically, that wouldn't work for two simple reasons: They live in a flat; and he's a wuss when it comes to four legged friends. No. That wasn't it. But what she did know was an undisturbed cuddle would be appreciated more than some glittering box from Tiffany's, or hotel chocolat.  But whatever it was, nothing had more appeal than a vast city view and a familiar toilet pan.   

   Back at his complex he insisted they take the elevator to his apartment. Saskia waited with baited breath while he opened the door as she slid past him. She couldn't believe her eyes. Mouth open and dumbstruck. The place was a shambles!

   'Let me take you on the guided tour... ' 

   She gingerly followed him. What the hang...

   'We'll start in the kitchen; That bit spaghetti stuck to the tiles has been there for two days, the greasy outline round it may never come off.... those dishes have been in the sink for three days, and... ' he spun round an empty cardboard roll on its holder, '... we're out of kitchen roll.' 

   He prompted her along by the elbow. 'That wastepaper bin by the computer is chock-a-block, never realised what fun it is to see if your crunched paper ball's gonna roll off or not!'

   To the sitting area: 'Cushions are all to pot, in the wrong order, and think there's a coffee stain on that one.'  He then pointed to the floor by the couch. 'Oh, and I found a couple of your glossy magazine things under the couch seat and chucked them on the floor where they usually end up. Now you can slide on one and do-in your other hip!.' Pointing further up he said, 'Bed's not made, clothes still under the duvet at the bottom, some piled on the chair... och - you can see the rest for yourself!' 

   That proud-as-punch, ludicrous beam on his face was the best homecoming present she could have asked for. After all, she was at her happiest amidst disarray. It was a message to her that she didn't have to worry about him worrying about mess. All this perusing of perfection taught him that mess, ultimately, was nothing to be feared -  he can live with it if he has to. He wanted nothing more than her to focus on full recovery and not fret over her remiss house habits. She doubted it would be an everyday occurrence, but for now this domestic shrapnel scene equaled any chapel or gallery glorious to the eye.  

   Neil threw his coat over a chair and went to the kitchen to make drinks.

   'I got some of that caramel-coffee syrup stuff you like,' he told her,  'I'll see if that mug you chipped is somewhere at the back... Oi!'

   Saskia had crept up behind him, grabbed and twisted the neck of his jumper, forcing him to turn round to her.  Fingers still clenched, keeping him attached to her, she carefully backed herself round the settee and closer to the bed.

   'Woah, woah, what are you doing?'  he asked with a huge grin, knowing damn-well fine what was going on.  

   Feeling the edge of the mattress touch her calves, she stopped. 'I was told that I had to lead into this sort of a thing with a certain slowness and ease.'

   Neil shook his head with a mock serious expression. 'Nah... can't promise I'd stick to that.'

   Saskia let out a hot and heavy sigh. 'Stick to me instead, then?' 

She acted all shy and coy, then pulled him down on top of her, as the bed bounced with belated buoyancy. Looks like Raptor would be testing out that hip today after all.

             FLOWERS IN THE WINDOW end

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