This story should stand alone, although it is a sequel to Amy and Dee and tells the story of what happened to Amy after her wife died. It doesn't matter if you skipped that story, I'll cover what you need to know. There will be a lead-in before there is any sexual activity, so if that is what you're after, look elsewhere.
The game of cricket features in this story and I'll explain the bits you need to know as it's secondary to the story itself. It is worth saying that cricket is a team game, played with a bat and ball, it's not unlike Baseball, but then an apple and an orange have similarities, but are very different. The terminology is also very a little mystifying at times. The internet has some simple explanations if you really want to know more.
All characters are fictitious, over eighteen when involved in anything sexual and all activity is consensual. The Bandit's cricket team is fictional. Any resemblance to other persons is accidental.
I'd been on the road for about an hour before I reached the motorway and a few miles later I overtook the removal van. Like an idiot, I waved at them, but I very much doubt if they saw me or would have realised who I was anyway. It would take me another four hours to reach my new home.
The house I'd lived in on the south coast was a beautiful, peaceful place, but whilst it was once perfect, life had moved on and the house felt empty. My work now involved a lot of travel, I was a self-employed management consultant and had taken on a much heavier workload, so it made sense to move to somewhere more central, somewhere that I was familiar with. I was heading back to the Midlands and a city that I knew well and liked. It had a couple of theatres, live music venues, restaurants and lots of things that I wanted to have nearby again.
I'd grown up in the northwest of England with two loving parents and then, when I was sixteen, they'd been killed in a car accident. My Aunt had taken me in and although she was much older than my mum and didn't keep good health, she'd done her best. I'd worked hard at university and gained a Masters' degree in business management.
I'd been taken on as a management trainee and moved to the city that became my home and to where I was returning today. It was there that I met and fell in love with one of the senior managers. Dee was much older than me, but it worked out and when she retired, we'd moved to the south coast from where I continued to work part-time, life was idyllic.
I'm pretty lucky, I don't really look fifty-two, I'm five feet nine inches tall, slim, with nice but not overly large breasts, I still had long and shapely legs that were my best feature. I'd always had long, very dark brown hair that reached the middle of my back, brown eyes and a nice face. I always thought that my top lip was too thin, but that aside I had no complaints. I was a lesbian and had known that I was since soon after my parents died and I'd always been comfortable with it.
After stopping for a fresh coffee, I let my thoughts wander back in time as I passed through the Cotswolds.
Two years earlier
I left the bathroom telling Dee, who was still in bed, that I was going to make tea and would bring a cup for her. "Could you bring me a couple of pills as well, I have a slight headache?" she asked.
As soon walked back into the bedroom I knew that something was wrong, the left side of her face seemed odd and she had the most terrified look on her face. I felt her forehead, she didn't have a temperature and when I looked at her, I realised that she was struggling to speak. I went to grab my phone to call an ambulance, then I got on the bed next to her. Holding her, I whispered that everything would be okay, even though I was petrified and doubted that I was telling the truth. I also kept telling her that I loved her, that was certainly true. I heard the ambulance pulling up and ran to the door to let them in. I led the way back to our bedroom and as soon as I saw her, I knew, in that instant, that Dee was gone. I fell to the floor sobbing and the Paramedics confirmed what I already knew. After twenty-six magical years, it was over.
During the next eight days, I was busy making arrangements, sorting out Dee's will and a variety of other small jobs that kept me occupied. I cried myself to sleep every night and every afternoon I walked the paths we'd trod together so many times, but now alone and in tears.
I don't remember much about the funeral or even who was there. That night I climbed into bed and lost it completely. Grief overtook me and everything that I'd kept under control escaped. I stayed there for three days, barely eating and angry; angry with myself, with God even though I didn't believe in the Almighty, with the world in general and lastly with Dee. It was my anger at Dee that finally shook me out of the depths of despair. It wasn't her fault; we'd shared our lives and love and I reminded myself that we'd had years of joy, a joy that some people never experience.
Three weeks later, wrapped in a warm coat, scarf and gloves, I carried the urn that held her ashes. I scattered them along a section of the cliff-top path, letting the wind take some of them away over the cliff edge and off towards the sea. I spoke out loud, telling the world how lucky I'd been, how special Dee was and how much I'd loved her. There was no one to hear me, except the wind and the waves on the beach below. For some reason, I felt Dee's presence during those twenty minutes and I stopped crying when I sat on our favourite bench. I raised my voice once again and now yelled, almost a scream, "Dee, I wish you were still here, but at least you went quickly. I loved you with all of my heart and the years we had were spectacular. I'm going to miss you, but I have my memories which I'll cherish. Goodbye, my love."
The next few months were difficult. There was a feeling of loss, the house was empty and I hated sleeping alone. I had no money worries, but I felt that I needed to get back to work and wanted a challenge. I was fortunate to find plenty of jobs and they meant that I had to travel. That helped a lot because I was occupied, but when I got back home, the sense of being alone was always there.
Disposing of Dee's clothes took me a while and caused floods of tears. Amongst her jewellery, I found a gold locket that she'd rarely worn. It had a picture of me inside it. I fiddled with it several times over the next few days before I decided to place a head and shoulders photo of Dee, taken on her fiftieth birthday, on one side and a photo of my Mum and Dad on the other. I wore the locket most days and often found myself touching it for comfort.
When we'd got engaged, we had identical rings, a single diamond on a narrow gold band and our wedding rings were equally simple narrow bands. I asked a local jeweller to size Dee's wedding band and wore it alongside my own every day. I felt that it kept her close to me. Sometimes, I also wore both of our engagement rings.
I had a job planned in our old home city that would keep me there for a couple of weeks. One evening, before I went, I telephoned Celia who'd worked with Dee and me. I was surprised when she told me that she'd been at Dee's funeral, but I hadn't realised. When I told her that I was working near to her home and hoped that we'd be able to have dinner one evening she insisted that I stay with her. "I'm on my own since John passed, the kids are married and away with their own families. I'd welcome the company."
The work during those two weeks was demanding, but that was what I'd wanted and they were paying well for my services. My free time with Celia was a real tonic and liberated me from much of the sense of loss. We went to the theatre, to some live music and ate out a few times, but I loved cooking meals with her and sitting talking until late into the evening.
On one of those evenings Celia's eldest, Josh arrived with his wife, Pauline and their daughter Hayley, who was in her late teens. "Josh, do you remember Amy King, who I worked with? We met at the cricket a couple of times."
"Amy, it's nice to see you again after so long. Mum told me about your wife, that must have been hard. How are you doing?"
"Getting easier." I'm not sure that was entirely true, but a good enough answer. "You've grown up since I last saw you and now married with a daughter. It just goes to show how time flies."
I sat chatting with them and at one point Hayley, who was sitting next to me asked, "You met Dad at the cricket?"
