Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 729 by Angharad

The meal Simon had ordered was excellent, certainly better than the salad. I’d said nothing to Simon about that in case one of the chefs was executed or something. I had to be so careful there, the family held so much power – it must have been almost like an old fashioned Lord of the Manor or even King, a word could destroy someone’s life or livelihood.

My taste buds weren’t quite back to normal, but the trout Simon had ordered, was done to perfection, and the waiter who brought it, offered to remove the bones, which we all accepted. How is it whenever I try to do it, I leave half of them behind?

The girls had small parcels of salmon instead of trout, and they wolfed them down in a most unladylike manner. I spoke with them about it afterwards, and they promised to eat more gracefully in future. However, the double ice cream sundaes they had as sweets, were swallowed even quicker.

“That was nice,” said a well-stuffed Livvie.

“Hmm it was, thank you, Daddy,” agreed Trish. Mima said nothing but got off her chair and grabbing Simon, gave him a smacker on his cheek.

“Careful,” he said, “you’ll make my girlfriend jealous.”

I simply pouted at him before adding, “You should be so lucky,” and went back to talking with Stella about Puddin ’– the baby not the dessert.

We sat talking at the table for a while, the girls asking and receiving permission to leave the table to go and watch some DVD Stella had organised. I was starting to feel the conversation was becoming distant and I’d not actually had any wine, and the next thing I knew, Simon was stroking my cheek. “Uh, what?” I jolted myself upright.

“You, my lady, were nodding off.”

“I was?” I looked at him, he smiled at me and I nodded, “I was.” A short time later I was undressed and in bed. I was asleep before the children went to theirs. I didn’t hear Simon come to bed, but I woke early about four or five, I couldn’t see the clock or my watch. I lay there for a while realising how tired this illness had made me. At the same time, I wanted to go home, back to Tom’s house or even Bristol. Yes, maybe I could do that, it has to be easier than going to Scotland and I’d like a chat sometime with Marguerite about one or two things.

I don’t know how long I was awake and lost in my own thoughts when I noticed Simon looking at me. “Good morning,” he said and I smiled back at him. “You were miles away, weren’t you?”

“Yes, sorry. How long have you been awake?”

“At least ten minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, I enjoyed the view.”

“What?”

“Watching the most beautiful woman in the world, who has captured my heart and soul, just being beautiful.”

“Simon, you are an old romantic, but even I am not persuaded by that sort of flannel.”

“I was telling the truth, but it’s only my opinion, of course.”

“I believe you think you were, for which thank you, kind Sir.” I leaned over and kissed him.

“I believe I was, too,” he put his arms around me and pulled me on top of him. He kissed me gently and with love. “Technically, there may be more beautiful women or ones with better figures, or with more seductive skills…”

“What’s wrong with mine?” I pouted at him.

“Nothing, you didn’t let me finish…”

“Sorry…”

“See, you’re interrupting again.”

“Sorry.”

He placed a finger against my lips and I kissed it. “What I was trying to say is that, in my opinion, you are the most beautiful woman in all the world, and the one I love.”

“Can, I speak now?” I asked, trying to hide the tear I felt filling my eyes. I lay with my head resting on his chest, and could feel his chin on the top of my head.

“Yes,” he said and I could feel his jaw move against the crown of my head and his chest resonated with his voice.

“I quite like you, too.” Then I snorted, which spoiled the whole moment and we both began to laugh. I also had to wipe my nose, which the errant tears had caused to … I know, too much detail.

“I want to go home,” I said after we’d lain for some time in silence, me just listening to his heart beating.

“Is that wise, the press could still find you?”

“I mean, Bristol. I could take the girls, maybe even take Stella as well. Between us we’d cope.”

“I don’t know, you looked very tired last night.”

“I’ll get stronger with each day.”

“I expect you will, but that doesn’t mean I’m either happy or approving of it.”

“I’m still an independent; you know. I haven’t succumbed to ‘love, honour and obey’, just yet.”

“I shall insist upon it,” he said but the laughter in his voice said otherwise.

“So shall I, but on your part.”

“Like hell,” he asserted and rolled me off him and then he climbed on top of me. “I think I need to show someone who is boss here.”

“Get off, Simon, you’re too heavy.”

“Once you give obeisance, I will.”

“Bollocks,” I said and tightened my grip on his, “I think this puts me in a position to negotiate,” I said as twisted my wrist.

“You be careful what you’re doing down there.” His eyes watered a little.

“Never underestimate the power of women,” I said smiling.

“Just let go, will you?”

“When I hear the magic word.”

“What? Abracadabra?”

“No, you twit, the one which empowers me to make my own decisions and do as I wish.”

“What word is that?” he looked perplexed and I was pulling a little harder on my prize.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” he repeated.

“Okay, yes dear, or darling or what is it you usually call me, oh yes, Babes. Yes Babes, will do.”

“Yes Babes, just let go will you, it’s starting to hurt a bit.”

“Well, just think that all that wrinkly skin will have had a good stretch today.” I released my grip and he rolled off me, breathing heavily and looking down inside his pyjama trousers.

I got out of bed and went towards the bathroom, singing quietly, “I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman.” *

*'I am Woman,' Helen Reddy.