More Than Molecules (CH21 pt 2)

 *** MORE  THAN  MOLECULES***(pt2)

🏩 With the covers on the bed peeled back, Saskia then stood by the bedroom window. The neon signage from the department store across the road threw a blue aura over her outline, as she vacantly focused on street-traffic in motion; breathing easier once she heard the click of the door shutting. He dimmed the light and she heard the flapping sounds of him undressing.  

   Feeling his presence close in behind her, she shivered delightfully as his hands rested on her shoulders. Shrugging up, she crossed her arms and slid her hands up to grasp his. She couldn't speak, just closed her eyes for a few moments, caressing his long, gnarled fingers, and when she did find her tongue, she put forth a jape. Well, what kind of words are spoken before such consanguine iniquity anyhow?

   'You'd better not have socks or boxers still on... '

   'Oi!' He riposted by giving her a quick playful dig in the side from which she buckled, then swung round to face him. The light at its lowest power, filled the room enough to yet make out his features; the slight bump of his nose, his padded bottom lip, the glint in his eyes and the creases around them. Gently she picked at some wisps that had dropped from his hairline, but was stopped by the sudden motion of him pulling off her night slip, casting it to the floor.

   'This is madness,' he said, though fire raged in his belly. 'Sure you want this?'

   She answered his question not by yes or no, but with, 'You've no idea how deeply I love you.'

   Standing there with his petite, naked emblem, he answered, irrevocably, 'Yes I do.' 

   And hadn't it just shown?

With his hands on her hipbones, he backed her up until her calves touched the edge of the bed where they both sat down facing one another. Saskia leaned in to kiss him once, then shuffled herself over near the middle, laying her head on a pillow. Outstretching a hand, bidding him to join her, he - with no thought now to fear or consequence - sleekly crept along until he was directly above, looking down at her; a blue glow outlining them down their right side. 

   Her hand reached and curved round the nape of his neck to draw him down to her lips, releasing a heavy groan when she felt on her inner thighs that he was hard already; surreal confirmation that this was really happening.  

   Salacious kisses skyrocketed her passion as fingers swept over his back - resisting the want to glide a hand down her belly and grasp him. Instead, she held him by the rump to keep him there. But just as her murmuring and sighs were mounting, he slid off her body and onto his side.

  The fear that he was about to abandon the bed was quelled as light fingertips started skimming between her breasts and downwards. She made beautiful viewing - as structurally perfect as a female could be. But his stroking swept lightly away before fingers made any deep intimate contact. Her groans in protestation to this, and his instinctual prudence, had him finding her lips again, his hand drifting down her thigh in slow curved strokes. This time it slid back up, finding and twisting his fingers in the elastic of her briefs, but she had no patience for any explorative pissing-about and readily raised her knees to help slip them off.  It was more than blissful to feel his weight upon her again, and it took hardly any caressing before moans increased, turning to intangible whispers in desperation to be penetrated. Though but a few minutes had passed, the overall need had felt long enough .  'Please... ' she urged. 

    Looking down on his little creation, begging to be violated, it didn't feel like the sin of the century was about to be committed as he scooped an arm under her to pull her groin towards his and pushed himself inside. The contact caused her fingers to scrunch up the sheet at her sides, arching her back as she inhaled deeply, then gasped out loud in sheer relief when he started to take slow and precise movements, propping himself up with a flat hand either side of her head to deepen the sensation.

  Increasing rhythm soon brought about heavy gasps to her own rocking, gyrating hips that doubled the euphoria and he dropped his body on to hers, his breathing now coming in fast and furious bursts. Then, with a swift forward movement, he grabbed her behind each knee and bore down hard, groaning as his orgasm hurled.

  There. Now she had won her inner battle and, at last, gained herself that hard-earnt and momentous end result.

Neil withdrew from her, flopping onto his back, reaching out to cosy her to him. With that pretty little head resting on the rise and fall of his chest, he stroked her hair but had become fairly quiet. 

    'Are you okay?' she asked him in a concerned whisper.

    'Aye... ' he says in his native accent; usually used to confirm anything she may doubt. 'You?'

    'Me, what?'

    'I'm asking if you're okay back?'

    'Did the last few minutes not happen to you, then?' she says in an are you kidding me tone. 'I'm more than okay, I'm in Wonderland.'

   He took a few seconds to digest her unexpected reply. 'Where, what..?' he mused, 'I've heard it called a few things before, but never that...  it's not even a real place!'

   'Neither's Cloud number 9, or over the moon, but I'm making my way there next... you could come too if you like, there's plenty room.'

   'Oh, is there, now?' That was it. She was off... off to La-La Saskia-analogy Land.

   'And you can travel for free.'

   'Is that because I'm a raptor and exempt, perhaps?' He knew the teasing operation of her mind quite well now.

   'What! The thought never crossed my mind... bloody wish it had though.'

   As they buzzed and radiated in after-sex happy and gibberish talk, it didn't seem as if anyone had just entered into something that was morally and lawfully repugnant. Neil lay there, dry and content in this outré afterglow with its dark cloud of taboo raining down. But anywhere - real or fictional - he knew he'd never go to the ends of the earth without her now.

   'My God, girl, can't you at least wait till morning to do my head in?' 

  Once the jesting settled down, tiredness was taking over in lengthier silences. She pulled from him and sat up. 'You really are okay, aren't you?' she asked, seeking this particular affirmation once more.

   He smiled up at her, tired but content. 'C'mere,' he said, snuggling her back down and placing his chin on the top of her head. With a couple of reassuring, light-hearted quick-squashes, he told her without contrition,

   'Of course, I'm okay. I always am with you.' 

   Saskia prayed that he really meant that. 'Promise me there won't be any regrets in the morning?'

   He sighed. 'In case you weren't aware, it's more or less morning now.'

   'Yeah, but I mean in the real morning.' 

   'I know what you mean. Stop fretting. We're okay.'

   This night had been the result she'd hankered after for so long, and the wet from his sperm felt under her bum was her little patch of victory. She'd do anything to keep it this way. Anything.

    Both now struggling to keep their eyes open. 'Will it scare you?'' she asked sleepily, hanging on yet to this earlier comment in the kitchenette; her gambit to continued happiness.  
    'Will what scare me?' 
    'Becoming my lover.' 

    He was too tired to vision what lay ahead, but not for one moment did Neil think that this wouldn't happen again. But she would have to continue taking the leading role, and any corporeal moves would solely be in deference to her wishes. It had been fairly easy casting out the wrongs, or any what-ifs, but right now he was simply revelling in just having her in his arms. He had been snared, embroiled and irredeemably not caring about the outside world, only this room and its indecorous succulence.

    'You're practically my life now, Saskia, every aspect of it.'

    That was as good an answer as she needed. 'I can't believe I was really going to leave and never see you again... ' she whispered, afraid to listen to the words said aloud.
    His grip around her tightened, crushing every last thought of losing her to the bone. If in his bed was the way to keep her in his life, then the world and its damnatory assessments could go take a fuck to itself. She was right... this was theirs and no-one else's.

The stupid, stupid man.    

                                                                   
end of **MORE THAN MOLECULES** (pt2)

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More Than Molecules (CH20 pt1)

 ***MORE  THAN  MOLECULES***(pt1)

💥  Neil was left staring at the door and quickly raised a hand to cover his mouth, dragging it down  till it rested on his throat. He turned and leaned back, needing the door for support. Her words spent a heavy few moments resonating in his head. Now he understood the reason for her capricious manner, and he worried even more that she would pull an all-nighter and leave early; slipping away without his knowledge. Right now, though, his silence had raised the hope that he was gone, so despondency spiked by the tap on the door.

   'Saskia.'

    No reply.

    'C'mon. Open the door. I'm not leaving till you do.'
    Still nothing.
    'I mean it.'

 Slowly the door slid open and she met him with a flush in her cheeks. Looking solidly at him, she asked,  'Are you sure you even want to hear this?'

    'I want to know what's going on. Tell me. As best you can.'  Whatever emerges from this conversation, he wasn't going to belittle her emotions, and cleared space for him to enter.

   Stepping in, he shut the door quietly as she walked ahead. Christmas sparkles on her shoulders still winked away under the kitchenette spotlights as she poured them drinks. What a turnabout to such a successful night. Less than an hour ago they had been dancing affectionately - now he was stunned, uneasy, tense.

   Taking his drink from her, he slowly sat down on the small sofa while she huddled up on the chair across from him; knees drawn up, chin sitting on her kneecaps. Those perky little green-painted toenails peeked brightly from the hem of her night slip, and Neil focused on them, awaiting her words. But each brave breath she drew in was being sighed to the ceiling. It was not so much as finding the right words to say, but the guts to say them at all.

Neil bowed his head, clasping his fingers ever tighter. The disclosure of such a revelation - as he grasped what it meant - was probably yet not fully registering. Complications were things he never tolerated for long, but he didn't know how to title this one since it wasn't just everyday stuff. She would have to be the one to speak first.

    'Well... say something,' he implored.

    Keeping her focus downward too, Saskia took a huge swig of alcohol despite knowing it wouldn't help; it hadn't all night. Now she would have to find boot intrepidity, boot into gear, and give it to him straight and wholeheartedly; even if the words she was about to drop made the ceiling cave in.

    'It's hard, but I'll try...fuck, this will sound crazy.' A few measured breaths, then she began, 'I've adored you from the outset. After our very first meeting in the park, I went home the happiest girl in the world. We clicked and I knew we'd get on and you probably gathered that fairly quickly, too.  Gradually though, things changed for me the more of you I saw. I tried to reason with myself that it was just the excitement of discovering you and nothing else. But I knew exactly what had built, despite struggling like mad to not let it happen but ' she shook her head, with hopelessness,  'it has... beyond a shadow of a doubt. My feelings just went haywire. ' 

   'What sort of feelings have gone haywire? I need a bit of help, here...' 

   'Bit of help?' she said, with a wavering smile. 'That's what I tell myself I must need every day, too.' 

   'Why?'

    'Because it's hard to think of you in a sensual light as well as in a father capacity.'

   As she lifted her head to look at him, his gaze wandered from her for a few moments then settled back again, but he didn't know quite how to ask her, but let her talk on. 'I know I never did or said anything directly about it before now, and I hate myself for allowing it to happen.'

   'Let what happen?'

   She averted his eyes by laying her head sideways her knees and huddled herself even tighter. 'You must know, Dad... '

   Neil's breathing shallowed as he thought she was about to bite the God-forsaken bullet and say it. So far he hadn't had the exact conformation to what feelings she was referring to, and as hard and unnerving it will be to hear out loud, he needed that precise clarity. Clearing his throat, he then asked in a slow measured pace,  'So, you're saying you're in love with me, then, Saskia?'

    She lifted her chin and looked him dead in the eye. 'Yes.' That one simple word made his stomach lurch.  'Yes, I am - and with bigger fecking bells on than a church on a Sunday at that!'  

   Even now, under the enormity of such a confession, her choice of words made him smile; his wee girl with the comical nature. Her comment, made out of nervousness, was also given to accentuate how deeply she meant it.  'This is far more intense.' She closed her eyes, 'Like nothing else I've come up 

against before...'

    Of course something must be more intense. How many daughters declare this kind of wanton stuff to their father?

 'But, how do you know it's the kind of love you say it is?' he probed, with a strained smile; he didn't want to unintentionally vilify her, despite his growing discomfort.  'Maybe the mix of the evening and the celebrations have been a bit overwhelming for you?'  At first he considered this might all be down to Julia having been aversive to her earlier on, but all Julia had done was helping to bring something more damning to the fore.

   Saskia gave a frustrated sigh. She knew this wouldn't be easy, so he would have to listen up.

   'Okay, then. So where d'you want you me to start? With the simple stuff, the how's' and why's;  like how happy I get when I know I'm seeing you later and how excited and safe I feel when I do. And for daft things like having in my favourite ice cream but always joking that you forgot to buy it in. Remembering bands I like but you hate, and always taking that interest in me. Making sacrifices and continuously arranging some new place to see, to visit, to get drunk in. And the pride I feel when we link arms outside makes me wish I was only ever in your company. We always have a laugh, even though I dread the one you have when I mess up and embarrass myself. Even the smile that fans out laughter lines around your eyes never fail to set off that weird wriggly worm under my ribcage.'

   She took a little pause. This did sound like a form of worship that she perhaps was taking out of context.

     'I imagine most daughters idolise their fathers, Saskia, there's that—' 

     'Or do you want to hear the deeper stuff that gets me?' she interrupted loudly, clamming him right up.       'Like adoring the way your eyes never leave mine as you listen to me intently?  How giddy I get when you instigate cuddles that make my heart pound, wishing you'd crush me just that bit tighter.  Or that tingle I feel when you brush past me, kiss my cheek, stroke my face? Or the weird and wonderful sensation I get all down my back when you tease out hair stuck down my collar and you brush it neater with your fingers. When you stand behind me I imagine the hands that rest on my shoulders creeping lower and lower, making their way to my thighs.  How I'd love to run a hand down the hairs on your calves when you're fresh from the shower and sit next to me. I picture my hand slipping under the fold in your dressing gown with every good morning hug to see how your heartbeat would react to it being there... Mostly I yearn to get into that fucker of a giant bed. You're the security blanket I long to get under, and it tears me to pieces when we say goodnight and head for separate rooms.  I'm left with my insides contracting, Dad. I feel safe and warm with you, as though nothing bad can happen yet I'm sitting here telling you this.  I feel you were brought into my life, made just for me. I know every daughter should be close to their father. Difference is, I need mine in his entirety.'

   Her tenacious words came out like bullets; straight-aimed and firing right into his soul. Words he should never have heard but she had suppressed for far too long. 

   Neil drew his look from her face to his shoes. Dumbstruck, conflicted, and incapable of formulating a response right now. If only this had been something that would wear off with the alcohol.

   'Jesus, Saskia...'

   'I've been in love before, and it's back with a vengeance and other heady stuff that won't sod off. Oh, I've blamed other things for sending all that adrenaline or doped-up hormones or whatever to whoosh around me, but it's you. I love you in a most agonising way.'

   He felt his own sudden or whatever rush flow through his veins and had to use laboured breathing to help calm it. A tear ran down her cheek and she swiped it away before he noticed,  'Finding you was the best and worst thing to happen to me and there's no point in trying to reason with it, reminding myself you're my dad makes no difference. I've grown up feelings that headed in the wrong direction and I can't divert them.' 

   He said something intangible in a muffled whisper, through shock, yet as beyond comprehension as it seemed, and as hard as this was to hear, he felt compelled to know more. 'So what brought it all out, what was so different about tonight?'

 'Tonight?' Shaking her head lightly, a faint smile playing across her lips. 'As I said, I was jealous. I've spent most of my evening wondering if every pretty - and not so pretty - woman had bedded you and I couldn't handle it. I still can't.'  The old green-eyed monster got the better of her, turning bitter after all those weeks of pining. 'I'm sorry. I just wish that bloody taxi had come earlier. I'd be home right now and you'd be spared this. I'm surprised you haven't taken off already. Cut off all ties. I wouldn't blame you if you did.'

    She was right. The best thing to do would be for him to go. Leave. The hotel, the city, the country, the universe. But he wasn't prepared for such abandonment. 'I'm not gonna do that, Saskia.'

    'Why not? It was what I was gonna do.'
    'Whatever's going on, you still need me right now.'

    'Really? How can you even think like that? I'm amazed you're still sitting here in front of me.' She blinked her eyes wide for a second, wriggling her toes and hugging herself tighter. 'Pity I didn't just come with a demand for back pocket-money after all these years, eh?' 

   As hurt as he felt at not having had the chance to have known her since birth, she was unequivocally the most important person to him. He only had to look at her face to know that she had opened a part of his heart that he never knew existed. Someone real to smile worry over, to love and lay down his life for; his much needed kick up the arse, and it hurt knowing he was the cause of her pain right now. Uneasiness radiated off him as he shuffled tensely in his seat; at a lost for what to say or do.

     'I was never trying to complicate things, sweetheart...' As much as he wanted to hug her, he was emotionally diffident about doing so right then. In layman's terms she was saying she wanted to fuck her father.

    'I know. I wasn't either.' Saskia sprung quickly from her chair, startling Neil by grabbing his glass for refills. 'Now look where it's got me...' 

   Silence took over as she topped up their drinks; three miniatures per glass. Saskia was starting  to feel the alcohol kick in now; as if it had waited all night to apply its courage when it really mattered. But she prayed he was giving precedence to each and every word she had strived to get out, for there was a matter of resolve to face, and she'd need to keep that courage undiluted while he was still there.

   Handing him his glass from over his shoulder, she told him that she wished it had gotten him somewhere too. She slowly sat back down in her chair, keeping eye contact solid as she did so, awaiting his reply. The statement had thrown him; in essence this was a test on what could be done about it.

   'What do you mean you wish it had got me somewhere too?' He asked with pulsating building up in his ear.

    Another huge glug from the glass, and she said, 'Help me here, Dad. Tell me I've not been imagining it.'

   'Imagining what?' He gave a slacked-jaw gesture, as if he was totally in the dark.

   Taking a moment to consider all those heady, irresistible flirtations that had a habit - mostly on her part - of growing out of hand, she smiled. 'You must have picked up on something, somewhere along the line?' 

  'Saskia,' he said, leaning forward to put his drink on the table, 'I think we should stop drinking,' 

  'Is that it? A last ditch attempt at blaming the booze. Down the sink now and things will be fine by morning... . she sung the last line ridiculously snobbish.

    He hung his head; he knew normality would never return again.

   'C'mon Dad...you know we've had moments. Awkward, silly ones sometimes, but we've been there.'         Although these 'moments' felt like they had sparked little on his return, she couldn't accept that he wasn't cognizant or intuitive to anything. While she felt desire so strong, he didn't feel a single tug back? Really?

 His silence for a few extended seconds may not have been a confession, all she sought was a sign, however small, it was there, but I would say we were pretty close was all he reasoned with.

    Saskia licked her lips, rolled her eyes and started to twirl the ends of her hair. 'Pretty close?' she mimicked, feeling narkier the more he repudiated. 'That the full shebang is it?' 

    'I don't know what else, I can say...or should say?'

    'Oh, for fuck's sake!' she near shouted, get narkier with each repudiation. 'I'll try it this way, shall I, you might get it now...You can't keep denial in a golf ball, smack it down a hole and leave it there. You always need it back, and it's down to you where it next goes... ' 

   Not another of her weird analogies, but he kind of knew what she was trying to say. 

   With brows knitted tightly, voice near pleading she continued. 'Just think of all that touchy-feely stuff; snuggling close, my legs over your thighs on the sofa when watching telly; me walking round half-naked wearing next to nothing but a smile? I've tried passing the boundary levels with you and you've been so bloody accepting, so refined. All I wanted was you to just react to it!'

    'React, how?' His voice started to raise, too; glad she hadn't poured the drinks down the sink after all.  'I couldn't tell as a dad if I should have a relaxed attitude about those kind of things - you seem to have! Christ, Saskia, I thought I was doing the father thing okay, I hardly had time to adjust. I've really only just found you, give me some leeway here, will you!' 

    'I know, I'm sorry... ' she said softly, starting to mollify; this would have been the last thing he would have expected tonight,  '... but I was never your little girl. You never had a baby girl, you got a grown one with restless feelings and prurience - one who never got the chance to know you until now. We met as adults, Dad, and that wasn't my fault.'  With glistening eyes forming and a tingle in her chest, she was striving hard not to cry.

     He knew, of course, they weren't a unique case. All over the world, people were meeting up with relatives they never knew about or thought were lost; all emerging from obscurity. That first time he saw her coming down those few stairs at the coffee bar was quite a feeling - an overwhelming jumble of strange emotions all fighting for first place. Who'd have thought a mere eight months later she'd be knocking him into a psychological whirlwind by her falling in love with him. She broke her short pause by stating an undeniable fait accompli;

   'We've got to remember our circumstances were thrown upon us, weren't they?' 
    'Aye,' this he had to agree with, 'they were.'

     Neil felt he was teetering on the edge of insanity, knowing where this proscribed 'reasoning' was heading, and he couldn't quite shift this God-awful awareness of nervous excitement stirring and she was about to hit him further to his fundamental core. 

   'I know there's a part of you that feels how I feel, Dad, because you tried to run away too.'

   'When?'

   'That very first time when I chased after you with the photo album, and you've shaped yourself into normal-dad-mode since. Just be honest with yourself.' 

    His moist brow furrowed and for a few moments he held her gaze, and it was hard to tell exactly what was going on in his mind. He shifted his look from her and back. 'Saskia, that's a bit unfair, I didn't— ' His proposed denial irked her immensely; she wasn't going to allow any belying from him on this one, and showed it by upping her tone;

    'Awe, you know you did!  You ran from Blazes the second you clapped eyes on me, you couldn't handle it. I reminded you of those young girls you slept with. That's why you shot out of that place, you didn't want to take me on!'

 Neil stood briefly to remove his jacket, throwing it over the sofa behind him. 'I was three hours into finding out that I was a father. It threw me, okay?' His Scottish accent always thickened at times of stress. 
    'Yup, that was what I thought too, till I worked out the real reason tonight.'

    Neil put his elbows on his knees, and cupped his head in his hands. A pang of compassion for him fluttered through  her as he processed events; she could almost feel her words thrashing around in his

 His world had tilted on its axis; how in the hell would he able to level it again? What an end to the night. 

   'Trust that bad-mouthed bitch, I wish she had kept her trap shut!'

   'I don't.' she admitted. 'If nothing else, it's been said now. I'm just sorry I chose tonight to do it.'

From his hunched shoulders and worn-down expression, Saskia went over to him. As soon as her hand reached out for his face, barely brushing the skin, he rose with velocity and headed for the kitchenette - not sure if contact would be a comforting touch or an agonising weapon. Blood rushed to his head and heart; molecules criss-crossing over his solar pleaxis. With his back to her he gripped the edge of the sink for balance. Saskia forlornly followed him, deflated and hurt.

   'Oh, that's it... demand to be let in, make me spill my heart out, then shoot off and turn your back on me! Why bother coming in at all if you can't hack it, you knew full well what was coming!'

    'Please, Saskia... just let me get my head around this...'

    All he had heard still permeated through his mind, dissolving through his psyche. Never before had he faced such mental upheaval.

   Those unshed tears she'd been trying so hard to keep at bay started to spill. With his head still bowed above the mug-ridden basin, she was left feeling lost, emotionally battered and humiliated. Out of breath and energy, and with huge sobs, she backed up and slumped down the wooden balustrade to the floor.

Neil glanced over his shoulder at the pain-fueled sight and instantly felt bad. Seeing her crumpled there reminded him of the imbroglios his father beset on his mother time and time and again, picturing his begging mother in that same pathetic state; something he carried with him to this day. Going over to her 

he grasped her wrists, freeing her hands from her face, but she resisted as he pulled to make her stand. 

  'Up!' he demanded. 'Up... d'you hear me?' His hands still grasped firmly on her. 'Please, Saskia. C'mon... it's okay, it's okay.'

    'No, it's not. It'll never be okay again, you don't understand... I've got her at home to deal with and I've just sickened you to the core... how will it ever be okay?'

    With a rough yank to get her on her feet, he gave a huge pitying sigh and crushed her to him, his hand clasping her head against his chest, soothing her in a rocking motion. Coming out in whispers, she kept apologising for such disgusting ruminations.

  He pushed her by the shoulders at arms length and encouraged her to look at him. There was no lip gloss now, no blushed cheeks, just mascara shorelines from crying down her pale face, and he couldn't help but love it; she was still so beautifully wrapped in this dishevelled torment. 

    'Hey, hey... listen,' he said softly, pulling strands of hair free from wet patches on her nose and mouth, 'whatever you think of yourself or are struggling with right now, you don't disgust me.'

    'You're scaring me...' he interposed loudly, with a brief nervous grin, 'but you don't disgust me.' Then said in serious sotto voce, and to leave her in no doubt, 'You could never do that.'

    Looking up into his eyes, a shade confused, she asked, 'What? Even now?'

    'Even now.' he answered back, and felt an impulse to finger-straighten the tangles from the hair that he'd brushed so many times before.  

   He felt sober, lost. For her, for himself. It was awful seeing those sculpturesque-features etched with such hurt, so he laid a comforting kiss on her forehead then lifted her chin up to secure she looked at him, wholeheartedly saying, 'I mean that.'

   But sudden intuition - the thing she swore was in him somewhere - swept him from his quest to ease her turmoil, and forced his eyes to rest on her lips; pink padded and always soft to the touch. The thought of what they might feel like if they lingered seconds longer than the usual quick pecks they exchanged, took hold. The image in his head readily took over and picked on him, pressurised him, then paralysed him until his heart and hormones ambushed all reasoning; any fear was eaten up and morphed into a compelling force of needing to know.

 In one bold gesture of a slight lean forward, he made gentle contact with his daughter's lips, letting them remain on hers that bit longer.

  The motion caught her unawares, and she tenderly and slowly laid a palm on his chest. The corners of her mouth lifted up just a touch and upon tip toes she stretched up to kiss him back. He accepted. The feel, the taste, the knowing they shouldn't be there, all incitement never felt before. Nerve endings of his lips radiated to every last molecule in his body, stirring, inciting until Neil grasped her tighter to him with the intensity that she'd craved, and the reality that this was actually happening stirred her all the more, creating short, wanton groans; their very own precursor to immoral incongruity.

   As grinding lips deepened, Saskia raised a knee and slid it between his thighs, jerking them apart to rub hers with his. But in reaction to this he suddenly broke off the embrace - making her gasp - and he reached back to grip the edge of the worktop behind him. Fearing what his manoeuvre might mean, he closed his eyes for a few seconds then looked back at her intently, biting firmly on the inside skin of his bottom lip to, perhaps, palliate the nod he gave towards the bedroom door. 

  She smiled meekly in response as she raised her hand gently to his face, and with a fingertip rolled his lip free from its bite. In a segue, sang-froid manner she turned and walked from him, blithely taking on the invite that laws prohibit, and society repudiates; boundaries remitted.

       end of *** More  Than  Molecules***

 

Into The Ocean (ch19)

                    start of **INTO  THE  OCEAN**

🌊 A goner. Off the face of the hotel. Phone switched off.  

    As often as not, he found her in the last place he thought she'd be; on one of the couches by the hotel entrance. Shoes were off and resting on top of the bag by her side: hair extension tugged off and poked out from it like some bedraggled albino rat; knees bent up and tucked under the skirt of her dress and toes curled on the edge of her seat to help keep her balance. She looked a sorrowful sight.

    'There you are, ' Neil sighed loudly, feeling part allayed, part annoyed, 'I started to think you must be away to a club or something. What are you doing here?'  Stopping in front of her, he noticed she had her coat on. The fact he had sussed-out her whereabouts rankled her. 

    'I just decided I should go home tonight.' 

    The obvious flew to mind. 'Is your mum okay?' he asked, not quite expecting her reaction.

    Headbutting the arms that crossed over her knees three times, she gave a huge, dramatic sigh of her own, then looked up at him.  'Y'know what? I don't know, and I don't bloody care. Can't I just have a day when something's not about her?'

    Neil stepped to the side, spun round on his heel, pulled up the knees of his trousers and parked himself beside her; must be pent up frustration and the free bar talking.  Although he constantly reminded her that he was there to talk to about her mum, and despite him being what she considered respite from her, she didn't really make mention of what home life entailed, or what she encountered. Carers are allowed off days too, he reasoned; say things they don't mean.

    'Okay, kiddo - spill. What's up?'

    'Does there have to be anything up, can I not just want to go home?'

    'Well, yes. But to try to sneak off and not tell your father first?' he gave a slight, sarky snicker.

    'I'd have called when I got home...' she stated rather limply. Saying goodbye to him had started to make her feel hollow and distant, and tonight she refused to engage with it, and instead whisked it off to her file of avoidance.

    'Uh-huh... and what about the rest of the things in your room, like your new dresses? I mean you've just got your handbag and shoes there.' he said, pointing to them.

    'I dunno, probably just... ' she struggled for an explanation, 'come back for them in the morning.'

    'An hour's drive here and back?  Or was I to take them with me?'  He wasn't buying this; had a hunch that facts still needed unpicking. 'Saskia, what's bothering you... has someone said something?'

      'No! 'I'm okay! I just need... should... go home.'

      'Your not okay, and there's a perfectly decent bed here. Use it, it was expensive enough.' Neil couldn't comprehend this sudden change in her. Getting more frustrated at his stubborn little madam, he rose and grabbed her hand, forcing her to stand, but she jerked it roughly away. 

    'What are you doing? Dad, I've ordered a taxi, it'll be here soon!' 

    Just as determined not to be outdone, Neil approached the bellhop on door duty. Taking out his wallet, he drew out £40 and handed it to him. 'When the taxi for Reymarr arrives, give him this and apologise for any inconvenience.' 

    'Of course, sir,' the boy dutifully replied, keeping hold of the money in his gloved hand. Half of that would make its way into his own pocket once Neil and Saskia left.

    'I don't know what's got into you tonight, but you really don't want to be disturbing your mum at this hour. Grab your shoes and bag.'  This time she didn't object to being tugged along by him.

    Should have waited for the taxi outside, she told herself. What the fuck am I gonna do now?

Neil kept hold of her hand until she was in the lift, and on release she rather immaturely folded her arms in an act of defiance, hitting his elbow with the shoes she was grasping. Staring stonily at her from the vastly mirrored lift sides, her reflection was so wound up he hardly recognised it. Neil made no effort to converse, instead remaining quiet until they stepped out.

    'Come on, I'll see you to your room.'

    'No, I'll manage. Really. You just go to bed,' she told him, with what he hoped was quiet resignation.

    'Are you sure you're okay?'

    'Yes. Honestly.' She started to frantically fish around the contents of her bag, mumbling and cursing quietly, stopping and starting with shakes of the head.  

    'Why don't I come in for a coffee first, till you get settled.' 

    Was he bloody kidding?  She needed to be alone.

    'Christ, I don't need babysitting, I'll go straight to bed like a good little girl!' 

    She was starting to sound acrimonious again. It was like her moodiness was controlled by a switch you wouldn't know whether to flick up or down. Something was very much off and he couldn't quite identify what was causing this character slip. Could the melancholy simply be fuelled by booze? She didn't appear to be that drunk so that was hard to distinguish or conclude, but what else could it be? It still worried him, however, that she may try to take off again; he had no choice but to run that risk. 

    'Okay, then. I'll go. You should feel better once you sleep it off.' Uh-oh, wrong thing to say.

    'Sleep it off?' she retorted. 'Well, that should be a dawdle since I drank like fuck to get annihilated tonight without success, so I've got fuck all to sleep off!' 

    'Why would you want to get that bad?'

    With head turned and eyes cast down the long corridor, she said in quiet mumble, 'I didn't want to, I needed to.'

    'What was that?'

    'Nothing... forget it.'

    'I'm not going to forget it, you've been fine all night and some reason or other—'

    'This is something I've got to face on my own... Dad!'

    'Someone has said something to you, haven't they?' he said in a serious tone. It was personal; had to be the likeliest reason for all this mind-boggling nonsense.

    'Just leave it...please.' 

    She turned and walked towards her door, ready to activate the swipe card, but Neil drew her hand back before contact. If someone had upset his daughter he needed to know.

   'Saskia!?'

   That was it. He'd gone and pushed her to her utmost limit, and any words she was about to drop would be his own fault.  

   'Okay Dad! D'you really want to know?'

   'Yes!' he said sharply. 'Just tell me!'

   'Fine. I will. Earlier on tonight, I walked in on that red... Rottweiler woman snorting a line of coke in the toilets, and before she gave me a chance to just shrug it off, she went off like a tempest in a teapot, taking great delight in telling me that you're partial to a line yourself.  And not only that but you've slept with half the women in London, especially your new employees - including her!' Well, he wanted to know and was taken so far aback he could hardly focus.

    Curling in his bottom lip and licking it, he then let out a sigh of huge disbelief and ran a mortified hand through his mortified hair, cursing Julia under his breath. 'For fuck's sake!'  She'd been rubbing salt in the wound by every dance he gave her, and it was Saskia who'd felt its sting. The brazen bitch.

    'Why didn't you tell me before now?'

    She shrugged. 'Didn't want to spoil your night - everyone's night.' 

    He floundered in the spot where he stood, flummoxed and instantly dry-mouthed. That was the last thing he expected to hear. 

    'Jesus, kiddo, that was ten years ago. I was totally out of it, I'd just split up with Magrette and went off the rails. The cocaine was a... a barrier, blotted out the stupidity of losing her.'

    'It doesn't matter...' she whispered, but he didn't catch it.

    'I can't believe that bloody woman casting up something like that after all these years. I'm sorry, I really am - you didn't need to hear all that muck... '

    'Dad?' Saskia tried to interrupt his explanatory needs, but he continued to ramble on, ashamed and making a complete hash of reasoning until she was forced to shout:

    'No, Dad, no, you don't understand, I'm not disappointed in you, I don't give a shit about you taking cocaine!'  The yell did the trick and he'd instantly clammed up. 'I'm jealous, okay?'

    There. It was out. She said it.

    'Jealous?' His brow furrowed, struggling to fathom this one out. 'Of what...?'

     She turned and swiped-opened her door. 'Jealous of every single one of those women who'd gotten that close with you, wishing it had been me instead.'  

    Neil just stared at her, frozen to the spot. How could she tell him she couldn't help it, that any undertows of logic and reasoning had long been trampled over and she was now only reacting to what was stirring in her stomach, spinning in her head, circling round her heart. 

    Taking a step into her room, she swung round to see the confoundment on Neil's face. 

    'Bet you wished you'd bunged me in that taxi after all, huh?' 

    Gently the door was closed on him. That was that. Her to-do in the toilets with Julia - that she fought to keep in check all night  - ultimately got the better of her.

            end of **Into  The  Ocean**

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Wonderland (part 2 CH18)

      start of  **WONDERLAND** (part two)  

🎉Standing at the bar, Neil saw Saskia return to the hall. She'd been away quite a while, but what did he know about the timings of female toilet-talk? Nonetheless, he was relieved to see her and caught her flick a glance towards him with an added smile. She'd brought about a certain excitability by simply being here, and from the corner of her eye made out him pointing in her direction. 

The vast room was now buzzing. Almost everyone that entered the room had no sooner settled at their table, before eyes were searching, anxious for a look at the Queen Bee. It was so venerating to watch them all mesmerized by her. Some even felt that she had tempered him to the point of being less intense in the office. By and large, she would be under surveillance most of the night. 

      With the bubbles and whisky having well kicked in, Neil stood and scanned his workforce, knowing he would be buggered without them. Loyal, hard workers that rarely caused problems. To whom, at times, he had been disparaging. At Christmas, his generosity folded outwards and diminished his own significance. For one night he was an equal despite, perhaps, him being rigged out in the most expensive suit. Christmas spirit had on him, albeit briefly, the embodiment of altruism.  He'd best soak up this one, undiversified night. 

Hardly a person that invited Saskia to dance was turned down Neil noticed, as he held her under his almost constant watch. It amused him to see the smirk on the faces of some of the great unwashed. Dancing with the boss's daughter, or rather, the boss's exceptionally-beautiful daughter, was a tick on every scale. It was those whose plus-one Neil didn't know that concerned him.  Over the loud music, they would lean in to make small talk in her ear, and for the most part she handled it well, politely thanking them for the dance and heading back to her table. At times he would rip her away from her newly-found friends, for more formal introductions to his own influential ones. 

    She didn't mind - expected it really. Her only bothersome concern was nose-candy Julia, who dominated the dance floor, and always seemed to have something to say to Neil every time she passed his table on route to widdle and take a fresh line. They exchanged the odd glance in passing, but Saskia never saw Neil leaving the room with her. She wasn't sure how she would feel if he had. Doing her best not to show it, the mouthy cow's ripping toilet outburst still bothered her despite her effort to focus solely on the celebrations.

                                    

Alas, the party came to its time-flying, incredulous end with the DJ announcing the last dance - the one where you had to pick your partner carefully; it wouldn't do to festively-offend. On hearing the call, two lads, from different directions, rose to the challenge and meandered through the sea of tables, chairs and fellow last-chancers, trying to get to Saskia, hoping to be that accepted final offer. But a voice behind them cut in.

      'Sorry, guys, but I secured this one earlier on.'  Neil proffered a hand to his daughter and led her to the dance floor. His skin felt cool and soft, and his grip reassuringly strong. 

      Every year, on his request, the Christmas night's music ended with a song of his choice; not a festive one, but one that sailed along with him through his life. Him and his sunken sentiment bursting through but once a year.  Strangely, its words he could almost dedicate to his lost daughter; as if perhaps it was expecting her presence somewhere down the line.  

      Putting her hands on his shoulders, his on her waist, they gently swayed in old-style moon dance, exchanging silly smiles and glances over shoulders as the floor crowded with couples squeezing closer together. Leaning to his ear, she asked in a compelled shouty tone:

    'So... what's with you and the lady in red? She's had you up dancing a lot.'

    Giving a searching peek around him, making sure she and the poor guy she was glued to were swaying out of earshot, he told her,  'That's Julia... she used to work for us. No man refuses her a dance!' He tipped his head in her direction. 'Rottweiler in slingbacks!'

    This made Saskia laugh, and Neil grinned back, warming at this. With eyes that lingered on her inviting features, he leaned towards her ear.  'I am so proud of you. You're easily the prettiest woman here tonight.'

    She raised her brows and stated quite frankly, 'Well, any Dad would have to say that.'

    'No, no. It's nothing to do with the biased-father thing - it just happens to be true.'

    'I think someone's had too many Jack Daniel's.'

    'Oh, come on. You must have felt a flush from all those eyes on you tonight?'

    'That was just everyone wanting a gawp at the boss's daughter.'  It was enriching though, feeling like his little emblem.

     'The boss's daughter...' he repeated. 'I still can't believe it.'            

     Staring at him for no more than a few seconds, a diminutive nod was all she mustered before  downcast eyes tried uselessly to hide the prickly glimmer in them. Drink induced or not, his words made a bolt straight for her heart.

    'Hey?' He stopped and lifted up her chin, wiping the wet from her cheek with his fingertips.  'Awe... come here you soppy thing.' He pulled her forward and rested her head on his chest, with his own head resting down on hers, not giving a shit if mascara stains smudged his shirt. Those long arms folded right round her waist, and a thumb found itself resting on the crisscross side panel of her dress, stroking lightly and comfortingly up and down a window of exposed skin. 

    It was a divine feeling, an unequivocal need to be ensconcing such a precious belonging, knowing that one day he might be all she's got. It was almost cruel that life had passed so long without her.  Under this very dance, he knew there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.  Closing his eyes, he got lost in the fading moments of the song, singing the words in his head:

                                        ♪'The blame I lay on her......Wonderland.♪' 

    He always believed that in a song you can find the perfect feeling that real life is reluctant to provide, yet here it intensified by having her in his hold.

     The keenly awaited load of netted balloons looking down on the pick and mix of could-be lovers, were on the brink of freedom. The latter part of their dance felt strange, majestic even, and as the music stopped and the glorious shower of balloons and foil ribbons fell to a chorus of Christmas cheer, they freed themselves from their clutch and stood inert.  For a moment, everything disconnected, until she reached out and gently thumbed the lapels of his jacket as he put his hands lightly on her waist.  Foreheads touched, and Saskia looked almost as if she was reluctant to open her eyes. But other couples leaving the floor, popping and kicking a path through the balloons, seemed to jerk her back to the motion-filled here and now.   

    'You okay?' he asked. 

    'I need to go the loo...' she announced to his amusement - always seeming to know how to round off perfect moments, she did.... 

    In the sudden full brightness of the swanky room, he watched her trot off, then turned to eye the utter mess that merry celebration could bring. It would take staff hours before their heads were hitting their pillows. Some clean up operation this would be. The reward would come with all the extras the guests abandoned for staff to take home; everything from money and food, to decorations and Secret Santa gifts, stretching this party even further.

                                                                        

That dissonant sound once the music and racket stops - letting you know how pissed you are by the level of its drone - was buzzing loudly in his head. As much as he couldn't be bothered with the farewells, he wasn't at a point where he was too drunk to happily suffer it out.  It was mostly 'Merry Xmas' wishes and thank you's, and the occasional male idiot with mistletoe who dared under alcohol to coax a kiss from him, to which he sometimes - cheeks only - happily provided.  After twenty minutes, with just a trickle of people around, he realised Saskia hadn't returned.  Probably got caught up saying her own goodbye's.  Glancing over at the table, he saw her bag wasn't there, so therefore must be with her. He'd give it five minutes and then he'd phone her.

                                

          end of **Wonderland** (part two)

Slow Motion (ch17)

         start of  **SLOW MOTION** 

💃 Talking away, the girls searched for a vacant cubicle, finding one each at the same time.  But on pushing the door open, Saskia recoiled. 'Wow!' she said aloud, closing it sharply.  

    Bent over the cistern had been a woman - smartly dressed in a red two-piece suit - snorting cocaine through a cut down straw. Saskia quickly moved along to find another cubicle to use and was surprised to see the snorter still insouciantly hanging around, giving her make up a fresh lick.  She was quite a thickset brunette who looked to be in her forties, and she held Saskia's gaze in the toilet mirror as she went to wash her hands.

     'Eyes popped back in then, have they?' she asked of Saskia, who didn't reply. Claire stood there silent and motionless, and Saskia soon picked up a vibe that they may know each other.  'You can have some if you want... ' The woman offered with a hint of trenchancy and a deliberate sniff.

     'Sorry... not my thing.' Saskia replied, unsure if the offer was meant as sarcasm or to buy her silence - not that she was giving too much of a shit either way.

     'Oh, I see. Lambrusco more your 'thing', eh?' she said, turning to directly face Saskia with pouted lips and raised eyebrows.  Yes, this woman was definitely being sardonic, but before she had the chance to reply and eyeball the snorter back harder, another woman appeared.

     'Julia, there you are. Been looking everywhere for you.'  This Julia had made a beeline for the porcelain before joining the party, through her need to kick-start her night.

     'Just coming, Millie. Little Miss Prettytits here just caught me taking a line. I think it offended her.'

     'Let's just go...' Claire tried to lure her new friend back to the hall.

     'Look!' retorted Saskia. 'I'm not going to pretend I approve, 'cause I don't.' She didn't believe there was even such a thing as recreational weekend boosts from drugs; any time was a needless risk. 'One of my friends fucked up her life through cocaine - that is what you're using, isn't it?' 

    'Ooh! Listen to Little Miss Expert!'

    'You were taking a white powder, you don't need much brains to harbour a guess at what it was, but she was only nineteen when she was hit by a car while off her face on the stuff!'

    'Obviously a silly cow then, wasn't she? Still... that's a poor Little Miss Sorrow tale you've told there. I may cry.'

    Saskia felt a tug at the waist of her dress as Claire tried to forcefully pull her away. But she was now highly irked and in with a cause. Angry at her callous attitude, and pissed off with all the  Little Miss references, it was time to put the quietus on this bitch.

     'Keep up the snorting and mocking all you like. But, sure, my friend was young and stupid, naive and influenced... what's your excuse? I mean... ' Saskia eyed her head to foot and back, with deliberate disparagement in her voice. '... you must be well into your forties. Are you not a bit old to be doing that sort of thing, or does it substitute for what you've not got anymore - like looks?!' 

     The other two women held each other's gaze; both knew how capable Julia was of  hit first - deal with it later.  Julia instantly pressed her forehead against Saskia's. 'Just who the fuck do you think you are!' One nut and Saskia would be down. While Claire was seriously thinking of fetching help, Millie's panic led her to intervene.  'C'mon Julia, it's not worth anything daft.' 

    'That's true,' Claire voiced now, 'don't let it spoil your night, Saskia. Let's go... '

    Taking heed, Saskia went to barge past Julia but she blocked the doorway, denying her exit. Wisely keeping her fists out of it, she had to retaliate for a slur like that.

    'Yeah, Saskia,' Julia mimicked her name with a derisory, wobbly head gesture, 'you don't want to spoil your night with one of the office boys you've no doubt promised to suck off for the free booze and buffet now, do we!'

    This was getting sweeter for Saskia. 'You're wrong... Julia,' (name said with head wobble back).  'I've not been invited here with any office boy, or any friend. I'm actually here with Neil. You know... Mr. Balfour? The man who throws this party every year.'

    Julia frowned. Neither she or Millie could make the connection. 'Pulling waifs in off the street now, is he?'  

    Saskia took delight in clarifying her position, 'I'm his daughter. So in a roundabout way that kind of makes me inviting you here tonight... and I can have you removed in a heartbeat for what you were doing in that cubicle!' 

    The revelation stunned Julia. She had known Neil not to have any family. Her partner - who still works for Balfour Enterprises - must have found the news of his boss's instant daughter too insipid to take home. But the shock that Saskia thought she'd hit her with switched into Julia's glee, as a huge destructive smile spread over her face. She was about to return fire with a mighty weapon.

    'This is the heart of London, darling, it's all caviar and cocaine. And if you don't believe me - ask your father! He's partial to a line himself... oh, and he's also slept with half the women he's hired - including me.'

    'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Millie protested; this had gone too far. Julia could never operate on a level of even fake politeness if she tried; goes straight for the jugular regardless of who you are. Grabbing her motormouth friend by the sleeve of her jacket, she started to pull her out, but not without one parting shot;

    'Oh, by the way - ask him if he remembers the time he snorted a line off my back... I got a bonus for that. Have a nice night, Little Miss Prim!'

 Alone again with Claire, Saskia's brain stuttered for a moment as she stared straight ahead, then dropped her head; stupefied at what had just happened, and struggling to keep tears at bay.

    'Well,' sighed Saskia, 'that's me told then.' She threw her head up, sending a half-smile at Claire who tried to play it down.

    'She's a lying cow, Saskia. Take no notice, she's always been a bitch.'

    As fallacious as it sounded, she knew such a vile diatribe wouldn't be spouted if there was no truth to it, and she knew her new friend wouldn't hurt her with the truth. Saskia nodded and rubbed Claire's shoulder in agreement. 'I won't. And it's best not to mention it to Dad, either.'

    'Of course not,' a wide-eyed Claire promised. 'C'mon, let's get back to the party - keep up the Christmas spirit.'

As they stepped back into the hall, Saskia searched for her father's face and he was happily exchanging man-humour in a group of around six at the bar. She pledged to enjoy herself without letting any scandelous unearthing be the driving force for the night ahead. She would keep a beady eye on Julia (easy to locate in bright red) who was, for now, tucked away in a crowded corner. But Saskia knew she wouldn't be ensconced long before shimmying that fat arse through the seated crowd and be in Neil's company.

              end of  **SLOW  MOTION**

  

Wonderland (pt1) CH16

       start of  **WONDERLAND  (PT1)**

🎄  Saskia had never eaten such delicacies in the whole of her life; hadn't even heard of some of the food Neil ordered.  She joked (he'd hoped) that she thought foie gras was something to do with cars, but he'd cogitated over time she really could, periodically, be a ditzy (dyed) blonde. More expensive menus, she knew, brought about some rare and unique dishes. 

   But at dessert she felt genuinely bad at having to put a spoon through that lacy string dome to get to the violet ice cream floral perfection, and Neil had to draw the line at her wanting to take a picture of it before its upcoming demolishing.  This was the first time she had eaten out anywhere without condiments (in square pots or otherwise) present on the table. It was quite a thrill. Apart from waving her fork inelegantly around in the air, and picking candle wax drips off with her fingernail, she behaved very well for a posh-food novice.

                                                                                

Replete with her posh nosh-up, walking from the restaurant into the main function room was magical; from satiation to delectation. Christmas decorations adorned every wall, window and door.  Helium-filled gold and green balloons wavered  every so often from tables, alongside parades of luxury crackers awaited pulling, their innards - no doubt - destined for the bin. Lit holly boughs draped every wall, helter-skeltered round every pillar, and on every door sat a coruscated wreath.

   The biggest, most impressive tree Saskia had ever clapped eyes on stood proudly in near-symmetrical splendor. She circled it at least ten times to catch its beauty. It was when admiring the huge star-topper that she noticed a net hanging high above holding up a humongous amount of balloons, promising jollity and mirth for later release. The girl was enraptured, near speechless, which pleased Neil immensely. 

   'Wow... this is breathtaking, Dad!' she said, all the while anticipating this particular Christmas night out would be rip-roaringly hard to match. 

   'Isn't it just?' quipped Neil. 'Shows I have a heart at least once a year. C'mon... let's grab a drink before the madding crowd appear!' A top table was reserved for them and a few select others, and while they sat - the only meantime couple in the hall - the hotel caterers and DJ started to prepare for the evening roistering.

   'I'm quite nervous meeting new people,' she blurted out, swigging her champagne far too readily.

   'Oi! Let's not go mental with the drink.' He smiled wryly and took the glass from her hand, laying it in front of her.  A rerun of gig-night would pop up in his memory from time to time, and as much as she had behaved responsibly since, he didn't want to chance a repeat performance. 'We'll wait till after the vultures arrive, then go nuts.'

   'Fair do's... ' she shrugged, willing to exchange glugs for sips meantime.

   With their glasses filled with champagne (he'd be on the JD's soon as his 'table friends' were here) a second time, guests started to ingress almost on the dot. With a free bar all night and travel expenses home already funded to them, they'd be mad not to make the most of it. 

   Saskia felt rather silly standing near the door and greeting the new arrivals beside a waiter and waitress with trays of champagne flutes. 

   'Jesus Christ, Dad, we're not at a wedding... this feels daft!' Saskia whispered between hellos.

   'Shh... we'll just give it half an hour, it's the way things are done.'

   'Yeah, in Henry the bloody Eighth's day maybe! I'm surprised you didn't arrange a fanfare...'

   He clipped her shoe with the side of his, in a signal for her to shut it as they both struggled to contain a laugh. For tonight, at least, there would be no majestic approach; his staff could drop addressing him as sir tonight - most opted for Mr. Balfour. All but a favoured few and the odd brave one would use first name terms.

   As expected, the first festively-draped was a younger bunch; some having brought their change of clothes with them to work, not wanting wasting a moment. Despite not mingling too much with his staff at work, he was still very good at remembering names. 

   'Saskia, this is Alastair, Claire, Rufus - or Rudolf as he's called this time of year - and Emilyne.'

   'Hello,' she smiled pleasantly at them, shaking each hand, not sure if an exchange of words were expected. She felt it weirdly regal and unnecessary but thrilling at the same time.  They grabbed a drink each and settled themselves at the table next to their boss's.  From the corner of her eye, Saskia could see their heads turning her way, and above the girls' shushing she made out:

     'Must take after her mum 'cause she really doesn't look like him, thank God! Mind you, with all that money he was never gonna produce a fugly, was he?'  

     Saskia gave an intentional little cough just to unnerve the boys.  Her own nerves had remarkably waned, swapped with this unique sense of pertinence. Just to rile them a bit further, she turned right round and slowly reached for another glass of champagne, throwing a diminutive smile their way.  It was fun to see them squirm.  

     Within a few minutes, a regular flow of guests started to fill the hall, and Saskia was relieved when Neil suggested she go sit with Claire and the others her age range. Her company was accepted gratefully and with a hint of honour.  

   Falling quickly into the zone, Saskia was sharing interests and laughs (and no doubt, phone numbers); You'd wouldn't think they'd been friends for only one hour as there had initially been a bit of a fear factor when elected to minister the boss's daughter. She could have been a hard-nosed uppity cow, but instead was not filled with anything but a soft curiosity of the people she'd just met. And when she got up with Claire to visit the Ladies, she passed Neil without looking his way, (which made him smile) he wondered if he'd even get to consort with her much tonight. But he was happy to stand aside for now, and simply watch the reaction to his little showpiece. 

                                                                            

       end of  **WONDERLAND** (part one)

      

Wasted City (CH15)

              start of  **WASTED  CITY**

👔👗The work's Christmas party was due to take place tonight; an affair of grand proportion. But to say that Neil was an ostentatious organizer of this over-the-top event was true and the opinion of some, the same said some never objected to their Christmas bonus. As well as an added lift in staff's pay-packet of a hundred pounds, they were also treated to this annual work night out. 

   The Bodden Bray hotel was its permanent venue - free bar, free buffet, free gratis all round. Not only was that for present workers but past employees (plus one) also; anyone would be a mug to miss it. Of course, this year had an added added-bonus. 

  For more than a decade, Neil attended partnerless: tonight he would be accompanied by Saskia. And if the word round the office was true, (one or two had casually met her) they were in for a treat.  But for the here and now; there was some shopping for the night ahead still to do. 

To Neil's dismay, Saskia had left it to the last minute to get kitted out for the party. A fortnight prior was the original goal, but her little cafe was doing great business with the lead up to Christmas and that saw her having to sacrifice some Sunday's too. However, this weekend was freed well in advance from cafe commitments, allowing ample time to enjoy it. And for convenience Neil booked overnight rooms for himself and Saskia in the hotel.

   Today would officially be their first proper shopping expedition together and as with most blokes; shopping with or for women always set them aquiver. The hope here was that it could all be done in the one department store; House of Fraser or Harvey Nichols usually catered to his tastes, and hopefully hers too. In, out, done. But whatever one she decided upon, quickness in satisfaction could bag them a longer lunch. 

   Before leaving his room, he stood counting a goodly sum of notes from his wallet. Usually his own spending was done via cards, but he liked to have a surplus in his wallet in case the day had any sudden change to it. Besides, he was a very generous tipper - something you can't do with plastic.

   Neil gently knocked on Saskia's door, before warily peeking his head round; God knows what state of undress she still may be in.  As he took a seat, she popped out from the bedroom with no hello, cursing that she couldn't find the earrings she had put down somewhere so went back into the bedroom for another pair, then located the desired ones in the kitchenette. She gave him a 'won't be long' promise while swapping them over. By now Neil had acquiesced himself to her last minute rushes (where she was now fixing her jeans again in a way that makes it hard not to watch - especially when she added a 'hup' to the jumping action). 

   'Just going to grab my coat, Dad...'

   God, he was weary just watching all her darting around and somehow knew this was just a little taster for how manic the day would become.  When she reappeared, he was pleased to see that she had wrapped herself up sensibly and not about to face the wind-chill factor in anything light or short. Like him, she wore a long, woollen coat (albeit mottled and boucle with nonsensical badges on the lapels) and thick bobble hat.  As much as they only planned to shop at one store, they would most likely have to walk a fair distance getting there due to dire London parking.

   'Ready?'  he asked her in a tone that indicated; are you sure about that?

   'Uhu'.

   'Thought any more about what kind of dress you're going for?'  He was hoping to at least hear a colour she'd decided on.

   'Nope,' she said, pronouncing the 'p' of the word like a popgun pop. He raised - yet again - those expressive eyebrows and tutted. 

   'C'mon then... let the madness begin. Marcus is waiting outside for us.'

     

As expected, parking proved to be a plight, even with the addition of several extra designated zones for Christmas shoppers.  Simply finding a safe drop-off point from the chauffeur took twenty minutes and they had the comfort of calling him back to be picked up despite any time lag. But at this rate they would be lucky to fit in lunch at all; it was contingent upon her and her pernicketiness.

   Blessed with a beautiful dry sun-filled day, it had taken just ten minutes into their walk for Saskia's cheeks to be flushed with rosy winter-chill.  Her reason not to wear gloves always irked Neil, remarking that frostbite wasn't worth the risk for having a constant swiping finger at the ready. Gloves forever on, off, on, off would only risk the chance of dropping one's phone all together, she argued back. But it felt nice to feel Neil's own gloved hand unexpectedly reach to catch hers as they walked as passersby glanced in their direction. She had an innate prominence of both wanted and unwanted attention as the street thronged with swarms of Christmas shoppers. He was never fond of Saturday afternoon people with their shoulder-to-shoulder bumping and dodging, cursing and apologising as it was, never mind seasons greetings added in the mix. But... a promise was a promise.

   It helped him not, mind you, that she didn't quite stick to their plan, just having to buy a few perfect little gifts displayed in windows, for others. Rarely had she the opportunity of deep-London shopping.  While she smelled of a mix of tester perfumes, he smelled of Ultraviolet Man and growing impatience. It was time to curb it and get her own shopping done.

A floor aide, introducing herself as Sophie, greeted them.  The dress, the dress, the dreaded dress! So many hung around her that Saskia even doubted if this Sophia would know where to start. She incited Neil to sit on a luxury sofa, (while Christmas carols bleated mercilessly from hidden speakers) as Saskia was guided towards rails with attire that may suit her. Picking colours that complimented blondes, (which was seemingly the whole spectrum) eventually the selection had been whittled down to three. It was a bit of a relief for Neil to see her taking them into the fitting room. He expected to be lunch-bound within ten minutes. Mug. 

   What in God's name was taking her this long in front of a mirror? Half an hour. Half a ruddy hour and still no sign of her!  An accompanying 'victim' sat across from Neil, waiting for his missus to reappear, and they exchanged nods and witless expressions.  Both their heads whipped round at the sound of footsteps, but it was the other bloke who, at last, was granted liberation. As he made his way to the till with his wife, he threw Neil a commiserating smile. Seriously. How much longer?

   Neil started to randomly hum tunes out loud to mask the Christmas tosh surrounding him, convinced it was getting louder.  He was so fed up that he started venting his annoyance by talking at the mannequins next to him.  At this (slow) rate, there would be more chance of one talking back than Saskia having made her mind up!  But they seemed to have heard his plea. Out she comes for his opinion, wearing a very becoming lilac dress.

   Neil's face was blank. The outfit didn't quite receive the response hoped for.  

   'Well, what do you think?' she asked, while Neil's lips thinned into a grimace. 

   'It's nice, but I can't really say with the— ' he pointed, indicating the very much out of place hat on her head.

   'Just concentrate on the dress - ignore the rest of me.'

   'Kind of hard when it's staring you in the face.' The easiest thing to do was to simply say perfect - and they were out of there, ending all this festive-anguish. But when he's asked for an opinion, he delivers it.  Saskia gave a frustrated sigh.;

   'Yes, but the hairdressers not coming till five o'clock, and my hair's a mess right now, so it's staying on!'

   'You could whip it off, just for a mo—'

   'Not gonna happen'

   'And the umm.....' He then pointed to her thick, heavyset boots, which had been mostly hidden under her jeans.

   As much as 'for fuck's sake' was bouncing around in her mouth for an exit, she gave a little tense growl at his stymied attitude and constant aversion to clumpy shoes.

   Sophie was finding their exchanges amusing. Men usually gave an abrupt, agreeable opinion (when in reality they don't-give-a-shit) just to get the hell out of there, and here was a father - a man awash with gentry - in the throes of boredom and shop-weariness now seeming to be pissing her off on purpose. Still, they were rather entertaining.

   Saskia turned and took the other two contenders from Sophie, holding one up either side of her.

   'So, which one of these do you like?'

   'Which one do you like?' he said straight back at her.

   'Well them all, obviously... gimme ruddy strength!'  She turned to Sophie: 'Would it be okay to quickly try the aquamarine one again?'

   Neil's head jerked up at the word 'again'. 'No, no, I'm not hanging around any longer.'  He'd resigned himself to the fact that lunch would be well out of the question now, but a drink may not.

   'Why not?' 

   'Look, Saskia, just buy the three of them.'

   Saskia's head shot round to him, scowling doubtfully. 'Don't be ridiculous Dad, the cheapest is £300!'

   He shrugged and smiled and gestured with his hands. 'It's Christmas!  You can make your mind up at the hotel - surprise me!'

   Saskia's skilled collaborator looked at her with highly raised eyebrows, and a 'you lucky girl' smirk on her face. Time for her to capitalize further on her sales pitch with the foot factor about to butt in. 'We have the perfect shoe to match every dress?' Spoken in the form of a question.

   But before Saskia had a chance to reply, Neil stood up and took over: 'She's a size 5. Give her a pair to match each dress, just make sure it's a neat looking shoe and not a... ' Neil waved a finger at her feet, words failing him, 'bloody... chunky type thing!'

   The girls' faces exchanged mischievous delight at his comical descriptive. 

   'You mean platform, Dad.' 

   'Whatever. Just make sure they're nothing like those things you galumph about in!'

   'What the hell does galumphed even mean? Is it a Scottish word?'

   'No, it was invented just for you!'

   As much as Sophia could have listened to them for ages, she felt it was time to interject. 'So, a three inch court shoe?' she suggested correctly.

   'Yes, but I'd like the turquoise pair in metallic.' Saskia said, already having checked-out the shoes on the sly.

   A very satisfied Sophia watched in glee as a daughter's excitability near knocked her father down in thanks. That was the thing with the opulent, they easily cough up to ease their day; she made a fortune in commission through Daddy's Little Girls.  Had Saskia not disclosed the reason for the hurried dress hunt, she would have suggested chucking in accessories too, but she left some regard for their busy schedule.

He offered to carry her bags for her - which was always the gentlemanly thing to appear to do in a deluxe store after purchase. It had been her first experience of upper crust spending, whereas he had shopped there regularly, but never with a daughter, so it gave them a unique, two-way sense of importance. If happiness could jump she'd be swinging off those diamanté chandeliers right now. They said their polite farewells and he hankered even more strongly for that quick-fix drink.

   The second they were out of there she freed him of the bulge of bags on his left, latched an arm through his and he smiled fondly at the gesture.

   'Sorry that took so long...' she said, feeling she had to fit in an extra dollop of appreciation, not having expected to be coming away with three outfits.

   'No worries,' 

   'I feel quite bad now we've missed lunch.'

   'Wouldn't have missed all that indecisiveness for the world,' he replied, keeping deadpan, enjoying toying with her. 

   'Picked out a suit for tonight, then?'

   'Three weeks ago.'

   'Dicky or straight?' she inquired, referring to his neck wear.

   'Whichever one's still in the pocket, most likely.' 

   'Sure you don't want to at least get yourself a new... I dunno... aftershave or something?'

   He gave a cordial smile knowing exactly what she was doing - trying to fit him into focus (hers having been £1,500 pounds worth of focus) too.

    Stopping her suddenly in their tracks, he turned his head to look at her, 'Saskia, this was your Christmas present from me, lunch was only a possibility - we got there in the end. Let's see if there's a pub we can fit a swift one or two in before Marcus comes back for us.' 

   Jostling through London streets - her looking tawdry, him chic - was becoming one heck of a challenge and they were having no luck in finding a muted pub; his head peeking in doors, then straight back out again. To be expected really, this close to Christmas. Neil had rarely been the type that tolerated standing in places where he didn't know the clientele. No. They had no option but to make their way back to the drop off point to be picked up again, and it was during that wait that she wished she'd owned a pair of gloves.

They hit the shower at roughly the same time. His water flow was strong and cool, meant for a zing-hit, while hers was hot and steamy, meant for a pore-cleanse.

   Out first, Neil inspected his suit once again, double checking that it was stitch perfect, though he always travelled with a spare.  He'd plumped for one he'd worn only the once before; a dark greenish-grey main colour with a mild tartan through it noticeable when close up. His usually sharp mind couldn't recall exactly where or when that had been, but he was certain it was less than a year old.

   As yet he still wasn't sure what colour shirt would suffice (he had multiple to choose from with him too) as long as it was not office-white.  For round his neck, he had chosen a ribbon tie with a slightly stronger black and green tartan to it. Sorted. All he had to do now was get dressed and check up on whatever stage of preparation Saskia was at. Men usually have a headway advantage over women, but she had exactly one hour until their dinner date. 

He gave three rapid taps on her room door. 

   'S'open,' she called, 'just come in!'

   Neil entered, and Saskia greeted him towel-wrapped on both head and body. He was just about to remind her of their tight schedule until the incredulous gawp on her face kept him silent.

   'Wow, Dad!,' she scanned him head to foot. 'You look... amazing.'

   'Uh ... thank you?' he frowned, not quite thinking he deserved the laudatory reaction but he took it all the same.

   'No, I'm really impressed!' She loved the shape of his suit: jacket slim fitted with just the right amount of sleeve peeping out: trousers tapered and settling neatly on the foot.  'And you're not wearing tan or grey shoes either!'

   'Oi!' he snipped back at her. 'Where do you think I get my clothes from - Sunday magazines? I'm pretty careful in paying attention to what's happening in the world. Sometimes. Life's not just work and waste paper bins, you know!'

   Saskia smiled rather ruefully at him, then hung her head, as in shame, and this puzzled him.  

   'What's up?' he asked.

   She averted her eyes from his and swallowed, catching his look again. 'It's nothing, I just didn't mean to imply you were some kind of old fogy or anything.'

   'Don't be silly,' he dismissed her worry away with his hand, wanting to give her hug to reassure her she hadn't, the silly mare.  'Look, we've got less than an hour to get to our table. I'll pop down and see how the function room's coming along and let you get on.' 

   'Okay, the hairdresser will be here any minute anyhow. Oh, before you go, Dad, could you do me a favour?'  She picked up a plastic tube from the table and handed it to him.  'Rub some of this on my unreachables for me.'

   'Huh? '

   'It's body glitter,' she laughed at his mystified look,  'just over my back and shoulders please.' She turned round, posing like a scarecrow.  

   Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, he started to rub the squidgy stuff over whatever skin was on view, being careful not to rub too near to the towel-fold holding her decency up. God forbid that dropping down!

     'Jeeesus,' he said as he performed the grim deed, 'I'll never get this shit off my hands.'

   

Saskia stared into a long wardrobe mirror and was taken aback. Rarely did she look and feel so refined, until her tummy grumbled in unladylike fashion.  The very second she checked on the time, Neil knocked on her door. 

   'Coming,' a rather half-nervous, half excited Saskia called to him and he backed up a few steps, in wait of her appearance.

   On opening the door a strong waft of scent escaped (since knowing Neil, she'd sprayed perfume liberally around as if it were air freshener) and out stepped his very own starlet. With a smile unable to stretch any wider, he reached gently for her hands and spread her arms out for a better look. 'Simply beautiful.'  

   The dress that left the other two party-deprived, fit impeccably.  It carried a sweetheart neckline and a criss-cross of open panels down each side. The waist nipped in neatly and dovetailed to just under the knee in full circle. Her perfectly-matching shade of shoe, with it's metallic-look leather, saluted the subtle sheen of the dress. Opting for the aquamarine (it had a prominent advantage from the start) was the best colour to accentuate her hair. 

   'What's this?' he asked, lifting the long herringbone plait that draped over her left shoulder, falling to the front.

   'An extension the hairdresser attached for me. Looks real, doesn't it?'

   Freeing her hand, he gestured with a finger that he wanted her to twirl.  She spun a few times, the hem of her dress fully out, causing a small eddy of air around her knees from the movement, while her plait (which almost hit him) settled back in its prime position over those light scintillated shoulders once she stopped. This simple, unadorned dress was the perfect compliment to his suit. 

   'You mean the world to me, you know,' he told her in full sincerity.

   She stepped closer to him and stroked down his cheek with the back of her hand. 

   'I know. You're a sweet old thing really, aren't you?'

   Neil did not commit himself to answer her evincing sentiment and drew his gaze directly downwards, needing a second to compose himself.  After a short cough he lifted his head, then jutted his elbow out to her and she readily took it.

   'C'mon kiddo, let's go eat.' 

   Inside the lift, in a heavily accentuated Scottish accent - which he knew made her squirm - he proclaimed:

   'Don't know about you, but I intend to get blootered tonight!'

   'Scottish for getting pissed?'

   'You're getting good at this game.'

   They looked at each other, then snickered ridiculously.

                  end of  WASTED  CITY 

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