A Family Christmas Ch 06

WARNING TO READERS - This is a long, rambling story and VERY British which has been divided into several parts for ease of editing and reading. The individual parts will make more sense if read in sequence as they follow straight on chronologically.

Most, but not all chapters contain some sexually explicit sections and the story has a strong incest theme which some readers may find disturbing and might wish to cease reading now...

Whilst this is a stand-alone story some readers may recognise some of the characters from my submissions from a couple of years back entitled 'The Touch' which can still be found in the Novellas section of Literotica. I do intend to continue with the original series now that I am back home but these new tales were put together without reference to the earlier stories whilst I was recuperating after an operation and follow the fortunes of some of the characters a few years on from the original tales.

GF

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Part Six: The Last Waltz

Despite the unsettling events of the previous night Julia seemed bright and cheerful and full of energy by the time the room service waiter arrived with the breakfast trolley and a folding waiter's table which he erected and laid up for us in the little seating area at the end of the hallway by the large picture window overlooking the snow covered mountain.

"You need to talk to me, Jules..." I demanded over the breakfast table spreading a copious amount of the tasty rather tart greengage jam onto my still warm bread roll. "What really happened last night... and Christmas morning as well at Windsor park?"

"It really isn't anything to worry about, sweetheart..." She offered, but I wasn't going to let it go at that.

"You scared me fucking shitless..." I snapped. "I was frightened for you..." When she didn't reply I went on, "Jules, I thought we had become friends... Very special friends... Well special friends are supposed to talk to each other... Share things!" We had been here before.

I thought that I had gone too far. One thing that I had learned about Julia was that she was a very private person who clammed up tight if anybody tried to pry into her personal life. She had already opened up and confided in me about her early life but I felt that I was right on the edge now and pushing her too hard might destroy everything we had built together.

"Back off, James!" She scolded her eyes flashing with icy grey lightening. "You are my nephew... not my husband... it is not your place to tell me..." She stopped suddenly in mid rant. A single small tear trickled down her cheek.

We both kept our tempers on a hair trigger, I guess it was a family trait that we shared, but this time I didn't bite back, I just sat and took it on the chin. I could see that she was more upset than angry. I took a good tug at my coffee and then quietly stood up and went around to stand behind her chair and laid my hands on her shoulders. She was wearing the silk robe that we had got her for Christmas and I could feel her bare shoulders beneath the thin material, she had probably not yet started dressing after her shower her body still felt warm through the silk. I bent over and pressed my cheek against hers, a comforting gesture but I was immediately enveloped in the delicate perfume of her shampoo and shower gel, whatever I was about to say was driven completely out of my mind by the erotic perfume of her nearness. She turned her head slightly so that she could place a light, delicate kiss on the side of my mouth. Her tear transferred itself from her cheek to mine.

"I am s-o-o-o-o sorry, James my darling..." She sighed. "You are the last person that I should taking my temper out on..." I squeezed her shoulders gently and returned her kiss with one to the cheek and felt her swallow hard before continuing. "Have you got a cigarette?"

I sat down opposite her and lit two cigarettes and passed one to her. "I thought you didn't smoke this early?" I teased trying to lighten the mood that I had created.

"It's after breakfast..." She countered with a smile, "Well, I've finish MY breakfast, and that is what counts..." She paused to pour both of us another cup of coffee before continuing. "This is very difficult for me James my dear... So you must be patient with me..."

I said nothing and just nodded my agreement. I just needed to know that she was OK.

"About a year ago I was...er... diagnosed with high blood pressure and a heart murmur...Nothing immediately life threatening, just a bit of a nuisance..." She raised her eyebrows in the unspoken question.

"Yes, OK...I think I understand about both of those..." I confirmed. "Murmurs are often the result of an irregular blood flow through the heart valves...and often linked to hypertension, yes?

"Well done...yes..." She praised. More Brownie points earned by the Medical Crisis course I had attended, I thought, please God don't ever put me where I have to use the emergency midwifery training that had been part of that course.

"So what are you doing about it...?" I demanded.

"At the moment, nothing... Taking a couple of pills daily... but now the condition has worsened a bit..." She tried for a relaxed smile but it didn't quite come off. "I do have to go into hospital in March to have a stent fitted and maybe a valve replaced to improve my circulation." She took a sip from her coffee cup, "It is a routine procedure that thousands of people have done... it should stop these 'wobbly incidents' happening when I get tired or stressed out..."

"H-m-m-m-m, so should you be smoking and drinking?" I probed.

The smile remained fixed on her face but her hand shot out and seized my wrist in a grip like a vice... "So do you think you have the balls to make me stop?" She asked sweetly through gritted teeth. We locked eyes for a few seconds but we had been there before and I knew it was a game that I couldn't win against my scary aunt.

"No." I waited until she relaxed her grip. She moved her hand to pick up her cigarettes in a gesture of defiance. "I never could or would force to you do anything you didn't want to." I said, "But sometime soon I shall ask you nicely to do it... FOR ME!"

She kept her eyes fixed on mine and then suddenly started to laugh, "Oh, you crafty bastard, James," She chuckled, "You should forget the army and go into politics..."

She stood up and made for the door to her bedroom. "I am going to get dressed and then we can take a walk into Innsbruck as it is a nice day..." She turned and poked out her tongue at me like a insolent child. "Walking is good for my circulation they tell me..."

I had the feeling that she had just spotted an opening and had fled the field of battle before the main engagement had begun... There was definitely something more...something she wasn't telling me... not yet... But she would!

The morning was cold, bright and fresh, a perfect morning for a long brisk walk and so clad in our warm coats, wool hats and lined boots we embarked on the stroll from the Tirolerhof Hotel, into the city proper and then followed the length of Leopoldstraβe up to the triumphal arch with its marble reliefs featuring happiness and wedded bliss on one face and the grief of death on the other. Most of the festive Christmas market stalls that line the street through December were gone although some of the local food produce sellers would remain until New Year.

"The arch was ordered built by the Empress Marie-Theresa around 1765," Julia commented as we walked beneath it and entered Maria-Theresa-Straβe, snacking on a bag of still warm Lebkuchen, the traditional gingerbread biscuits which we had bought from one of the stalls. "It tells a terribly sad story... The empress ordered it to be built to celebrate the marriage of her son the Duke of Tuscany, but before it was completed her husband Francis died and the reverse of the monument was dedicated to her grief at his passing."

Maria-Theresa-Straβe was much busier, with many of the market stalls still in place and at mid-morning was crowded with both locals and holiday makers and most of the popular coffee shops were brimming over, some with customers waiting at the door to be seated. Rather than queue we bought espresso coffees from a street vendor and stood by his little three wheeler van to drink them and enjoy a cigarette in the open air.

Julia had enthusiastically darted into what seemed to me to have been at least a thousand shops on route and as before I was already laden with a multitude of shopping bags containing an assortment of scarves, gloves and yet more shoes and handbags. My aunt was at the very least a serial shopper, she even convinced me to buy a new black cotton shirt to wear when we went dancing that evening and we had acquired a replacement bottle of decent Scotch and I had bought a carton of local Austrian cigarettes, 'Belvederes'. It was a local brand that I had sampled the previous year and had acquired a taste for, to my surprise Julia appreciated them as well.

"I really liked continental cigarettes when I was a student," she told me. "French brands, Gauloises and Gitanes Brunes were popular with the men and many of the girls in my set favoured the Sobranie Black Russian cocktail cigarettes."

I was tempted to have another dig at her about smoking but instead simply added, "I can't remember when I started smoking... I guess it was with some of the guys from the Army Cadets, but most of the girls smoked as well,,, in fact more girls of my age seem to smoke than boys... although Cora is a 'Guest Smoker'... She never buys cigarettes she just smokes other people's..." I laughed.

I was perfectly content to just wander with Julia from shop to shop, mostly we walked with her arm looped through mine but at some point I suddenly realised that we had been strolling hand in hand... I didn't dare say anything in case it made her self-conscious and the little intimacy of holding hands would cease. Each of the times that our hands parted whilst in shops or to hold a coffee cup, I almost held my breath until I felt her slip her hand back into mine. Holding her hand or having her arm looped through mine just felt right... I felt that Julia just seemed to fit against my side as if it was meant to be like to pieces of a jigsaw puzzle coming together.

"Look, James..." Julia grabbed my arm and drew me into a small shop selling music CDs and old 33 rpm vinyl records. "I want to see what they have... Sometimes you can get recordings not available in the UK."

Naturally my attention gravitated to the classical music section and after a little browsing I discovered a recently released CD of "Zu Gast bei Mozart", by the Amadeus Consort Salzburg virtually the same programme that had been played at the dinner concert from the previous evening with several of the same artists and recorded at St. Peter's Monastery. Julia was looking through the racks of discs and so I discreetly took two copies of the Mozart disc to the counter and paid for them and then slipped them into my pocket.

"Come here, James...see what I have found..." Sometimes Julia's enthusiasm for little things had all the joy and exuberance of a child. I joined her at a rack which appeared to contain popular music CDs in German to find that she already had a small pile pulled out. "Look at these..." she enthused passing her trophies to me. They were vocalisations and instrumental collections by various artists some of which I recognised and some that were new to me. There were a couple of re-released albums by Peter Alexander and Udo Jürgens, top Austrian artists from the 1970s era who I not only recognised by name but was even familiar with some of their music. Some like Cindy & Bert and the jazz pianist Friedrich Gulda were less familiar to me and others were complete tributes to my international music ignorance.

I am a musical chauvinist... I have my own particular tastes in music but am totally disinterested in anything else... Opera, most classical music, and old Rat Pack recordings were about the extent of my musical interest, although I had grown to appreciate trad jazz with both Mother and Cora playing it at home all the time. I guess that my intolerance of modern pop music did little to endear me to young people of my own generation, girls in particular seemed to view me as an ignoramus because of my total lack of knowledge and interest in Pop and street music and artists.

"I am going to buy these for your mother..." Julia enthused, "We were both absolute devotees of Peter Alexander when we were young...and she will love the jazz classics..." "She laughed with the joy of her enthusiasm, it was as if she had discovered a horde of treasure. "Actually, there are some here that I might keep for myself... Look... I had a vinyl record of this one back in the early 1960s it was my prize possession...I danced to it every night in my digs at Cambridge..." She added, holding up a re-issue CD entitled "Unser Tägliches Brot Ist Die Liebe", by Peter Alexander. I just leaned against one of the counters and watched her, the zeal and sheer enjoyment that she radiated was virtually a glow which left me nearly breathless... I could have simply watched her for hours... my lovely aunt behaving like a teenager... 58 going on 16.

She finally settled on the dozen or so discs she wanted to buy and I had also picked out a couple of interesting looking recordings of Mozart choral music and a collection of the works of Haydn, between us I think that we probably made the vendor's day.

By the time that we had walked the length of Leopoldstraβe, Maria-Theresa-Straβe and Herzog Friedrich-Straβe and were standing gazing up at the Goldenes Dachl, the amazing balcony with a roof of 2657 fire-gilded copper tiles constructed for the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I, it was getting towards lunch time and we were both agreed that we should find somewhere to eat.

The Weinhaus Happ is a long established café and restaurant in the market square and had the municipal Christmas Tree still standing right outside. I had often passed the welcoming looking café-hotel but had never before eaten there. The restaurant had a friendly traditional atmosphere and the menu was huge and very tempting with an extensive good quality wine list. As usual I deferred to Julia's superior knowledge and after some discussion she ordered a bottle of Wohlmuth Gelber Muskateller Steinriegel a delightful, fruity, dry wine from the Burgenland region.

"It is a new wine to me as well..." Julia told me. "But I know the type and the Wohlmuth Wines are usually excellent and good value..."

"How have you learned so much about good wines?" I asked, Julia's knowledge did seem to be extensive.

She gave one of her tinkling, sexy laughs, "Oh, that's simple... you just need to spend a lifetime living in court lodgings and hotels and associating with well-heeled piss-artists!" She chuckled. "I spent the first thirty years of my professional life travelling from court to court as a barrister or circuit judge and associating with 'gentlemen of the bar', well paid lawyers who liked the finer things in life, and usually eat too much and drink too much..."

The waiter brought the chilled wine and Julia waved it over to me to approve. She had talked me through the correct procedure at previous meals but this time it was to be my decision. The label was as we had ordered. The wine had a sharp fresh aroma, no sign of being corked, and was clear and without oiliness when swirled in the glass and tasted excellent. I glanced over at her and received a nod of approval before conforming acceptance to the waiter. I had bought my first bottle of wine and actually felt that I knew what I was doing, it was not about liking or disliking the wine, it was about knowing if it had been correctly stored and was good for consumption, yet another lesson learned this holiday.

"Until very recently the British legal profession was an exclusive 'gentleman's club' with relatively few women in the higher echelons and most of the older professionals were pretty chauvinistic and tended to regard the female members of the group as guests at the table, and so I spent quite a few years listening and learning... But I also grew to appreciate good food and wine for myself." She added.

"I suppose that you dine out a lot?" I enquired.

"Yes, the legal subsistence allowance is still fairly generous when you are in court, and most judge's lodgings have a professional well trained chef...and a decent cellar." She gave a little sigh and then let something slip. "It is one of the things that I am going to miss..."

Our starters were brought to the table and put in front of us. Julia had ordered the French Onion Soup and I had asked for the Gemischte Tiroler Speck, smoked local wafer thin ham with a smoked cheese and chunks of dark bread with homemade butter.

"I guess you are suffering from cut backs like all government departments, eh?" I asked.

"Well, that is part of it, yes..." She said. He face clouded over and her eyes became sad. "But it is a bit more complicated than just that..."

"Is this something to do with you not being well, Jules?" I guess that my concern was probably reflected in my expression.

"Don't look so worried, my darling..." She told me with a wan smile. "I guess I shall have to tell you whilst we are having lunch... to stop you going into 'concerned husband mode' again..." She joked. "Not that I don't like you caring about me... it is very warming and comforting." She bathed me in one of her big beautiful smiles. "I especially liked that bit where you carried me to my bed in your arms..."

Shit, my aunt was flirting with me! I guessed that it was probably just a distraction tactic, but it gave me a little tingle around the balls remembering holding her in my arms and lying next to her on the big bed all night even though it had been innocent... well, almost innocent.

She was interrupted by the waiter arriving at the table with our main courses. Julia had picked the Rahmgeschetzltes Züricher, thin slices of veal in a creamy mushroom sauce on a bed of potato rosti, it looked fantastic and I had been tempted by it but had finally chosen the Wildragout, a local rich game stew of venison and wild boar, served with sautéed mushrooms, gnocchi and potato croquets.

We drifted through our lunch without returning to Julia's revelations until we had finished our pudding of Praline parfait with a liqueur and orange sauce and sugar biscuits and had received our coffees and cognacs.

When our dishes had been cleared by the waitress, I dipped into my pocket and slipped the CD Amadeus Consort Salzburg I had purchased across the table.

"It's just a little memento from last night's concert..." I said. "I bought another for myself as well so that we would both have one."

We both laughed and she produced a pen from her handbag and opened the cellophane on both discs, and wrote on the paper insert of mine and passed the pen and the other CD to me. Mine read, 'James, my handsome Beau. Thanks for a super evening. Love always from your young lady'. I took a deep breath and then quickly inscribed hers with 'To Jules. My best date, ever. Love from James".

It was warm and comfortable in the restaurant, there was a log fire in the grate and so I lit two cigarettes and passed one to her. I think the first time that I had done that it was purely for affectation. Something from the classic movies, a thing that Bogart did, but over the last couple of days it had become one of those little things that Julia and I did all the time. I loved it when she lit a smoke for me, I could taste her lipstick on the filter tip.. , a tiny thing but totally erotic.

"So are you going to tell me what is really bothering you, Jules? I probably can't help but I can listen, and I really do care..." I persisted.