Chapter Two
Deeta
The first thing I see when I wake up the next morning is Tom’s face. Jan and I returned to the lounge after her midnight snack and talked until we fell asleep. I think it is Jan and Tom’s voices that wake me up, and as I groggily try to kick-start my brain, Janny gets to her feet and stretches.
“I’d better go back to bed before that man of mine wakes up and sees that I’m not there.” She rearranges her dressing gown and gives me a grin. “He’ll behave like a moody teenager for the rest of the day, if I’m not!”
She leaves, and I turn back to Tom. He’s crouched down beside my chair, elbows propped up on the arm, cradling his chin in his hands. His face is very pale, dark smudges of fatigue ring the sleepy eyes that are fixed on my face, a lazy smile in their depths.
“You look tired.”
“I am.”
I shift a little in my chair as his gaze becomes more alert and his mouth stretches into a slow smile.
“Deeta?”
I feel a shiver of goose bumps spread over my arms at the softly caressing tone.
“Yes?”
“You’re dribbling.”
I touch a hand to my face in panic but there is nothing there.
“Made you look!” laughs Tom his whole body shaking with mirth. I thump a cushion into his grinning face.
“Horrid boy!”
“Say it like you mean it, Deetina,” he whispers teasingly, catching my arm and pulling the cushion out of my grip, before drawing me closer. I hang back against the gentle pressure and shake my head in mock indignation.
“Don’t even think about it, I’m not kissing you: you’re ghastly!”
Tom shrugs his shoulders.
“You should have thought about that before you married me.”
I continue the pretence of resisting while still allowing him to pull me closer.
“I was blinded by your shoulders.”
For a moment Tom stills and looks down at me as though he couldn’t possibly have heard me correctly.
“You were blinded by my what?”
“Your shoulders,” I sigh gustily, playing with a button on the front of his shirt. “I was so busy admiring them that I didn’t notice you stalking me. Before I knew it, you pounced and I was caught.” I shake my head. “Such a sad tale.”
Tom slants a disbelieving look my way.
“As I recall it was you who pounced on me,” he corrects, “and you waited until I was injured and weak to do so!”
By now his arms are wrapped around me cradling me close.
“You feeling injured or weak now, Tom?”
“Why? Are you thinking of taking advantage of me again?”
I run a finger over the short bristles on his cheek.
“The idea had occurred to me.”
“Well as it happens I am feeling a little bit faint at the moment,’ muses Tom. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to put up much of a fight.”
His face tilts closer to mine, but the second before our lips touch, a giggle bursts from my mouth. Tom pulls back a look of mock affront on his face.
“You’re laughing? I put the moves on you, and you laugh in my face? What kind of wife are you?”
My giggle progresses to a full out laugh, and I lean my head against his shoulder weakly.
“Faint? Faint, Tom? You sound like Mrs. Bennet!”
“Mrs. who?”
“From Pride and Prejudice.”
Recognition lights his eyes, along with a spark of outrage, before he can act on it I pull his head down and kiss him.
It must only be five minutes later that we hear a snort from the doorway and guiltily pull away from each other.
Dec and Roydon stand just inside the room, their noses wrinkled in distaste. They’re dressed in their cadets uniform, a blue-grey shirt and trousers. A black beret is squashed through the epaulets on their shoulders, and I’m struck again by the fact that they are now young men.
“Yuck!”
“He never used to kiss her this much,” remarks Roydon with a disapproving shake of his head.
“Uncle Tom didn’t used to kiss her at all!” returns Dec. “Or hug her, or hold her hand, or touch her hair; now he does it all the time!”
“Not all the time,” argues Roydon judiciously, “he isn’t here all the time.”
Dec considers this statement thoughtfully.
“But if he was he’d be doing it all the timethough.”
“Its soft.”
“Its gross.”
Both boys turn to each other and their voices unite.
“It’s girly!”
“And you’re sticking around to watch it,” I observe.
Something very like revulsion crosses both boys’ faces and they start to back out of the room.
“Yuck, no!”
They turn to run down the corridor and a moment later we hear the back door slam as they run out into the garden.
“Poor Tom, I think you’ve lost your street cred.”
“It looks that way doesn’t it? I’ll have to start beating you and see if I can recover lost ground.”
Before I can make the appropriate rejoinder there is a squeal from the doorway.
“Uncle Tom’s home!”
Carris erupts into the room, flinging herself into Tom’s arms and letting loose a stream of quick fire questions that are so garbled, neither of us understands a word.
“Take a breath Carrie!” smiles Tom lifting her from the floor. The maneuver is starting to get more difficult now that Carris is approaching her tenth year. Carris giggles and snuggles her cheek against his dark stubble, wrinkling her nose as it pricks at her soft skin. Tarri enters the room just behind her step-sister and seeing a lull in the conversation takes the opportunity to catch Tom’s attention.
“Aunty Deet didn’t go to bed last night, Uncle Tom.” Her eyes are wide as she confides this information. “She stayed up all night!”
Tom looks down at me, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
“No wonder she’s such a shorty. Let it be a lesson to you girls: if you don’t want to be a midget like your Aunty Deeta, you’ll have to make sure you go to bed early every night.”
“That’s right, why don’t you all gang up on the little one?” I mutter pretending to be offended. “How could you grass me up like that Tarri? I thought you loved me!”
Carris covers her mouth with both hands and giggles, her hair is rumpled from sleep and sticks out wispily like a halo. Tarri shakes her head at me, she’s dressed in a pink nightdress with a teddy bear print and has a pair of fluffy pink slippers on. She looks soft and warm… and very disapproving.
“Uncle Jep says you’ll make yourself sick,” her voice takes on a motherly inflection. “If you’re sick who’ll make us pancakes every Friday?”
Tom chokes back a laugh.
“Tarri has a point, Deet,” he grins, “you know how much I like your pancakes, what would I do without them?”
I elbow him in the ribs.
“You only love me for my pancakes? If that’s the case I dare say you’ll be able to find a replacement. I can just imagine the advert: needed, one woman, not afraid of little monsters with untidy bedrooms. Must have nice pancakes.”
I feel Tom’s fingers slide around mine, the slightly rough skin of his thumb skimming across my knuckles.
“But I like your pancakes,” he murmurs softly.
“I do too!” announces Carris fervently, completely innocent of Tom’s innuendo.
This statement completely oversets Tom, and he sinks down into a chair, laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes free of tears. I shake my head trying to be disapproving, but its no good with the laughter bubbling up inside me, I tell both girls to go and help Nan set the table for breakfast.
When I turn back to Tom it is to find that he has recovered from his amusement, but a lingering smile still hovers on his lips. His head is resting against the softness of the cushions and his eyes are closed. He seems close to sleep, and I notice again the fatigue in his face, the paleness of his skin standing out sharply against his dark stubble, and the bluish shadows beneath his eyes.
I wish I could make it better somehow, that I could take away the responsibilities that wear him down like this. I want to ease his burden, bring him relief, but I have no idea how to do that or if it would even be right.
“You’re staring.” Tom shifts a little as if he’s trying to find a more comfortable position. “Do you fancy me or something?”
I snort.
“I was just thinking that if you fall asleep there I’m not strong enough to carry you up to the bedroom.”
He smiles a little, still not opening his eyes, and reaches a hand up to me. I lean forwards to take it, thinking he wants me to help him up, but when I place my hand in his, he jerks me down beside him, pulling me close and wrapping both arms around me.
“Mmm… that’s better,” he murmurs, settling my head on his shoulder and resting his cheek against my hair. “You’re nice and soft Deeta: comfortable.”
“Are you telling me I’m fat?”
Tom’s shoulders shake in amusement and he lifts a hand, covering my mouth.
“Shhh, let’s just sit like this for a bit.”
His voice is so tired that I decide that now is not the time to ask him what happened while he was ‘out’. A few seconds later I feel his hold on me relax and his breathing change as he falls asleep.
These are the moments I treasure, the times that bring me most happiness. I know that it’s memories like these that I will never forget. They are simple, common place even, but more precious to me than the grandest of romantic gestures.
I can’t begin to explain the feelings I experience when Tom turns to me for comfort, for peace, the way he is only able to relax completely when he has me in his arms. It makes me feel so good to know that to him I am important and precious. That my existence makes his life richer just as his existence enriches mine.
I move a little so that I can study his face, the dark hair falling over his brow and the strong features that I know and love so well. I smile slightly; I don’t mean to brag, but there is no denying that I did pretty well for myself!
Beneath my hand I can feel the strong, steady beat of his heart, a heart that I know is filled with Tom’s own special brand of tenderness. As the warmth he radiates seeps into me, my eyes flutter close.
Tom is back safe and sound, for now that is the only thing of any importance.
-------
As expected the children wake us up before much time has passed, with the news that breakfast is ready. Tom rubs his eyes sleepily, and grunts something about being too tired to eat, before slowly making his way up to our room. By the time I enter the breakfast room I see that my ragtag family has already gathered. There is a deep sense of content in my heart as I look at these people, so dear to my heart. It never ceases to amaze me that this collection of people can be a true family without the ties of blood.
I smile at Tom’s step-father and look down at Tarri where she curls up on his knee, her chubby fingers threaded through Uncle Jep’s watch chain. Dec and Roydon are attempting to brush grass stains from their trousers as Jan looks on her step-nephews disapprovingly.
“I seriously don’t know about you boys, do you have to bring half of the garden in with you?”
Royden and Dec look sheepishly down at the damp and slightly muddy marks.
“I don’t know how it happens, Aunty Jan,” states Dec, his eyes wide, conveying his sense of being caught up in a conspiracy. Ricky looks up briefly from his book and shakes his head at his younger step-brothers.
“A wild guess suggests it might have happened in the garden, while you were trying to force grass down each other’s throats.”
Dec looks startled.
“How did you know about that?”
“You were right outside my bedroom window making enough noise to wake the dead. How could I have missed you?”
Jan pulls a revolted face.
“Yuck, what a ghastly pair you are.”
I gesture that they should take their seats but before the room can settle down, the door bursts open and Dec’s half-sister Jojo bounces into the room.
“Hello everyone!” She greets us cheerily. “Aunty Deet, please feed me!”
Her large brown eyes fix on mine pleadingly.
“Of course Jojo, haven’t you had breakfast yet?”
Her face takes on an aggrieved expression and she slumps into the nearest chair.
“Jennet, Fay and Tina have started a new diet, they’re only eating yoghurt and fruit for breakfast and they won’t let Mum cook anything else, just in case they’re tempted to eat it. So Mum said I should come over here and have breakfast with you.”
“Yoghurt and fruit?” echoes Dec aghast. “That’s not even a proper snack!”
Jojo nods vigorously in agreement, stuffing a sausage in her mouth.
“That’s what I said.”
“Girls are crazy!” Dec shakes his head bemusedly and helps himself to two slices of fried bread.
“You’re only just finding that out?” murmurs Ryder softly, but not quite softly enough. Jan turns to him slowly raising her eyebrows.
“So what does that make you?”
“I don’t follow.”
“If women are crazy, men must be psychotic,” muses Jan, “because you’re so set on living with us!”
“Sounds psychotic to me,” I observe.
Ryder grins slowly.
“You make up for your craziness in other areas.”
As he is talking his fingers brush up the length of Jan’s hand until he reaches her wrist. The soft caress of his fingers brings a warm flush to Jan’s face, and for the first time in my life I see her at a loss for words. It startles me; Jan who is always ready with a quip, with a tart and clever rejoinder. Jan, who always has the last word, brought to stammering incoherence by the touch of a man’s hand.
Ryder grins again.
“What? That’s it? I’ve won?” he shakes his head mockingly. “Too easy; takes the fun out of it.”
Jan seems to find her composure suddenly and as Ryder takes a sip of his coffee, she smiles sweetly and leans forward.
“I spat in that.”
Ryder chokes sending a spray of liquid across the table. Jan rises from her chair with slow grace and leaves him coughing and spluttering, with coffee coming out of his nose. I thump him on the back, smiling at Jan’s retreating figure.
“You spoke too soon, Rye; I’m pretty sure Jan won that round.”
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It’s mid-afternoon before Tom surfaces again, he’s freshly showered and shaved, wearing black jeans and a grey jumper. Jan and I are sitting in the conservatory knitting brightly coloured baby things, when Tom makes his entrance. His black hair is still damp and I can see the paths the comb has left in the tamed waves.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, as he sits in the chair across from me.
“Better,” he smiles, lifting the lacy edge of the jumper I’m working on. “What happened to keeping the clothes plain to suit a girl or boy.”
“We don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Jan pats her tummy lightly. “My last scan showed a healthy baby girl.”
“I can imagine Ryder’s relief.”
Jan raises her eyebrows questioningly.
“Relief?”
“You didn’t know my brother as a boy,” chuckles Tom. “He was a terror; if you do have a son one day, you want to hope he takes after your side of the family.” Tom pauses. “Then again, as I recall you weren’t the best behaved child either, Jan.”
“Me? I was positively angelic!”
“That’s strange; I remember it a little differently. What about that time that…”
Jan holds up a hand to silence him.
“The baby is listening; please don’t give her any ideas. Besides, nothing was ever proven.”
“Still as unrepentant as ever.” I shake my head.
“I’m innocent until proven guilty!”
“Where’s Rye?” asks Tom.
“He went to the depot to talk to Val, they’re trying to work out a solution to the difficulties they’re having with the drill.”
“The underground defences aren’t going according to plan?”
Jan shakes her head.
“It’s taking too long and the Marshall’s guard is spread too thin to give adequate protection.”
“I thought Rye had sent Andak soldiers to help out.”
“He has but it isn’t proving to be a perfect solution by any means. Tempers are starting to fray, and Rye’s worried that if this goes on for much longer there will be an incident.”
Tom frowns, nodding in understanding.
“We always knew that there would be a certain amount of resentment.”
“I think the delays are bringing the whole thing to a head. Rye said that the last week has been horrible, he had to break up a fight between the workers yesterday.”
For a while the room is silent as we all consider the precipice that the truce between the tribes hovers above.
“The Marshall’s were so glad of our help at first,” I muse sorrowfully, “now it seems as though they hate us.”
Tom’s warm hand settles on my knee, a comforting gesture that is so familiar to me now.
“They have a reason to hate us, Deeta. We may be helping them now, but that will never change the fact that we almost destroyed them. If they ever forgive us they will not be able to forget that.” He gets to his feet. “I’ll go and find Rye, and see if we can find a way to cool the situation down before it gets out of control.”
He pauses at the door and turns back, smiling at Jan.
“Congratulations Janny, may your little girl take after her mother and aunts, and grow up to be a knock out.”
Jan snorts.
“No amount of sweet talk will convince me to name her Thomasina, so you can save your breath!”
“Busted,” sighs Tom. “It was worth a try. See you later girls.”
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Hi everyone!
Hope you enjoyed chapter two, don't forget to vote and comment! ;-P
DeeDee xxx