Rebecca and Travis met on a web site. They both wrote - and liked reading - erotic fiction, and they exchanged a few emails saying how much they enjoyed each other's work. Rebecca was a young blonde living in the UK, Travis was an older man who lived in Canada and was married with three grown-up children.
At first their relationship was casual but, gradually, they seemed to be drawn together by some invisible thread of loneliness and sexual desire. They began to mean more and more to each other, able to share all their fantasies and innermost feelings. Over some months their relationship developed into a fantasy romance and love blossomed. They knew they would never be able to meet but kept constantly in close touch. It was a meeting of souls rather than bodies.
One day Rebecca received an email from Travis telling her that as from mid June he would be unable to send any emails for two weeks as he was going on holiday to Sicily with his family. He gave her the dates of his leaving and return. He told her that it was a place he had been to before and described it in great detail.
Rebecca knew she would miss Travis's tender and thoughtful emails while he was away, but thought little more about it until she had another email from him saying that he had had a fantasy of him lying on a beach with his family when Rebecca suddenly appeared in a topless bikini and sat down beside him without a word. No one but Travis knew that he was sitting right next to the girlfriend whom he'd never met.
Rebecca loved the idea and replied, in wicked mood, saying that as she knew where and when he was going to Sicily, he had better keep an eye open when he was on the beach for a topless blonde who would walk down the beach to sit by his side. Travis's reply to this email was unusually short for him: "If only."
Neither mentioned the matter again and reverted to their usual intimate, and sometimes erotic, emails. But a week or so later Rebecca received a telephone call from her mother.
"Hello Becky," she said. "Have you booked up any holidays yet?"
"No, why do you ask?"
"Well, your father and I have been thinking of going somewhere in the sun and, now he's retired, we can choose our own time. We wondered whether you might like to join us."
Rebecca was thrilled. "Oh, that would be lovely. Just like the holidays we used to go on to the South of France when I was a kid."
Her mother chuckled. "Yes. I have some fond memories of those. Your father asked both your brothers if they'd also like to come, but John has to take his holidays when his school is closed of course. Your father said that's the trouble with being a teacher."
"How about Garyth?" asked Rebecca.
"Oh, he's not due any holiday long enough until early autumn," replied her mother. But if you can manage it, at least we'll have one of our kids with us."
"Oh, I'd love to come Mum. My schedule is pretty elastic. When are you planning to go?"
"No date fixed yet. We wondered if you could drive over later in the week and we can have a chat about it."
"That's fine," Rebecca replied. "I'm free Friday evening. How about seven o'-clock?"
"That'll be fine. But don't wait till seven. Come around to tea."
"OK, I'll do that. See you just after five. Bye!"
* * * * *
Over tea, the trio talked excitedly about their proposed holiday. Rebecca's parents had obviously been busy in their local library picking up leaflets on all sorts of holiday destinations. Rebecca flicked through them as she ate her tea. Suddenly her teacup stopped in mid air, half way to her mouth, as her eyes were rivited on the title of a brightly printed brochure - "Sicily". Her eyes shone brightly as a wicked idea entered her head.
"Um. . . when were you thinking of going on this holiday?" she asked with as innocent an air as she could muster.
Her father opened the small blue diary he had by the side of his plate. "Well, I have a few engagements during June, talks to give and meetings to attend and so on, but they're all finished by 26th. We should be able to go on 28th if that suits you.
Rebecca's wicked idea was already beginning to hatch. She went over to a chair and picked up her handbag. She took out her diary and thumbed through a few pages. Damn! Travis would be returning home from Sicily on 30th. Still, it might just be possible. It was worth a try.
"Er. . .Yes I think I can manage 28th," she said. "Where were you thinking of going?"
"Anywhere where there's plenty of sun," returned her father with a smile. "Do you have any preference, my love?"
Rebecca tried to assume an air of innocent ambivalance. "Oh, sun sounds good to me. Er . . . I was just looking at this leaflet on Sicily. It's a place we've never been. What d'you think?" She casually handed him the leaflet. He and his wife looked at it together.
Rebecca's fingers drummed on the table as she anxiously awaited their reponse. "I've got a friend who goes there, and he loves it," she volunteered.