Copyright Andyhm. 2018
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.
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Alisha: A dark Romance. Ch 3
It's a tale as old as time, of love found, lost and found again. It's the oldest plot in literature.
This is my take on this tale. It concentrates on the 'found again' part, and looks at the difficulties people have in rebuilding a relationship, and for one, regaining trust after it has been lost. Is it a loving wife's tale or a Romance? I started out writing a lost love romance but as it progressed it became darker and darker until it seems to me to have slipped into the LW category.
This is the third part (of 5). All are finished and I'll be submitting them on consecutive days. it is not a BTB tale - if that's what you are looking for then I'd suggest you stop reading now! I've left voting and comments on. I will delete any non-constructive or abusive comments.
Review and editing was by the wonderful Blackrandl1958. All of the remaining mistakes are mine as I can't resist that final tweak.
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Alisha - Chapter 3
"Hi, Dad, I'm your daughter, Julia."
I stared at her blankly for a few moments, and she gave me a cute smile. Alwyn's shout brought me back, and I could see that the lock gates were open and 'Never' was blocking the other boat's passage.
"We're loose," Alwyn called out, and I eased the boat through the gates and pulled up to the bank as soon as it was safe.
"Tie us off, Alwyn," I told him and then turned the girl.
"Who the h.. heck are you?"
"I told you, I'm your daughter, Julia. Mum's been looking for you for ages."
"And Mum is?"
She pointed back along the towpath towards the woman in the sundress and straw hat. "That's Mum, and she's missed you."
The woman took her hat off, and long black hair spilled over her shoulders.
"Ali," I whispered. I should have recognized her immediately. I turned cold; what sort of sick fantasy was this? I couldn't be Julia's father; I hadn't seen Ali for over 13 years. The girl was too young, eleven or maybe twelve at most.
She looked like her mother, and I saw no hint of my Scottish ancestry in her. What was Ali's game?
Ali started walking towards us; I asked Julie to stay on the boat with Alwyn and went to meet Ali.
She stopped in front of me and my stomach twisted. The intervening years had been very kind to her; she was older but more beautiful than I remembered.
She gave me a sad smile, "It hasn't been easy to find you, love, and anyone would think you didn't want to be found."
"I'm impressed you did! I didn't make it easy."
She nodded and then said, "What do you think about your daughter, she's beautiful isn't she!"
There was a bench a few yards away, so I went and sat down, Ali sat beside me. I said with a tinge of bitterness, "What makes you think I'm her father? She's too young to be mine."
"Oh, she's most definitely yours, Ben, and she'll be 13 in two months."
I wasn't convinced, "How? I thought you were on the pill."
Ali gave a quick laugh, "I was, and she completely ignored the fact. We must have conceived her on that last shoot."
I sat back and grunted. Images of the actor and those other two assholes coursed through my head and the bitterness I'd thought I had suppressed surged up again. Anyone of them could be Julia's father.
Ali saw me blanch and quickly said. "I made two of biggest mistakes of my life on that trip. I bought into the garbage Ryan and Tony were telling me, and then I didn't come running after you."
"Ryan, is he Julie's father?"
"No, you're her father, and I can prove it. He was that obnoxious actor at the party."
"Fuck yes, I remember him, the asshole who thought it was okay to grope your ass. The same one you went back to apologize to after I told him to get his hand off your ass."
Ali winced, "I was young and stupid. Tony thought a role on Ryan's show would help make my career and had been urging me to consider it all day. I didn't even notice you'd gone until the next morning; I'd thought you'd just gone for a walk around the garden."
"So who did you stay with and where were you that night, because you sure as fuck weren't in the hotel room with me."
"I stayed in the guest room at the villa, and I was on my own. Ryan tried it on, but my knee to his balls put a damper on that."
I smiled at that image. "But why didn't you come back to the hotel?"
"Because I was young and stupid. I wanted you to accept that I knew what I was doing and make you come back for me." She shifted on the wooden bench. "Tony said you'd be back, and the woman who owned the villa had offered you and me the use of a guest room for the night. Tony was supposed to have told you that you and I were both supposed to stay there that night."
She paused, turning to watch her daughter as she scrambled over the deck of the boat. "Our shoot the next day was to be on the grounds of the same villa, around the garden and pool. I didn't get back to our hotel room until that evening. You weren't there, and that's when I found that your clothes and bags were missing, as well. The hotel manager said that you'd ordered a taxi to the airport in the morning."
Her hands were twisting the brim of her hat, and I put my hand out to stop her. The first time we'd touched in over 13 years. We both looked at our hands, a little surprised at the spark that seemed to jump between us.
"I was so pissed with you," she continued, "and when Tony said I was wanted for another assignment in Spain in a couple of days, I left you that stupid message. I'm so sorry, but everyone was telling me that you needed some time to get over your temper tantrum, when in truth it was me having one, not you."
"Ben!" Alwyn called from the boat, "We can't stay here much longer, the lock keeper is asking us to move on so the boats waiting to go through can tie up here."
"Crap," I muttered and acknowledged Alwyn with a wave.
I rose to my feet; the next decent mooring with water and power was ten kilometers and another two locks along the canal.
"Wait, where are you going," Ali said as she grasped my arm.