Janet Chrissie And Me Ch 01

No persons under the required age of consent are involved in any sexual activity in this story. On the contrary this first chapter is all about waiting until the age of consent is obtained

I didn't have a difficult childhood but I did have a different one. One day, when I was six my Gran picked me up from school instead of my Mother. Mother had left and I wasn't to see nor hear from her in a very long time. Gran was Dad's Mum and although I didn't register it at the time I came to realise that she never said one word against my Mother. She simply took over where my Mother had left off.

Less than week later we moved, Dad and me, to a new house. Dad had a key and when we walked in a little girl ran towards him calling him Daddy. She hugged his legs. I was very confused. He was MY Daddy! There was a lady there, very pretty, looked just like my Mum.

She said her name was Janet and the little girl was Christine or Chrissie and that she was my sister but had a different Mummy. Chrissie was nearly a month younger than me. She looked very nice and was very friendly. She called me 'Big Brother' straight away. I told her my name was Ryan and she said;

"Hello, Big Brother Ryan,"

She hugged me and said I should hug her back. I liked her, she was nice and made me feel welcome. I hugged her hard and she hugged harder before kissing me on the lips. That surprised me! Only my Mum had kissed me before, and Gran a few times. Mum always kissed my head or nose not like Chrissie.

Apart from being brother and sister, nearly, we quickly became very good mates. Dad and I had moved right across town so I had to change schools. Chrissie, being nearly the same age as me was in my class and she looked after me. Telling everybody I was her new Big Brother. I made lots of friends very quickly.

Janet said I could call her Janet or Mum, whichever I liked and there was no rush, I could use both and see what felt nicest to me.

I liked Janet and Chrissie. I felt as if I was part of a proper family. Chrissie loved having a big brother and I enjoyed having a slightly little sister. We all got on very well together. Mum, after a few days of trying Mum and Janet I decided on Mum (not 'my Mum', because she wasn't and Mum said it would be wrong to refer to her as 'my Mum') as it felt nice, was a hairdresser. She usually worked at home but she also had a little car for when she had to go to the ladies houses. That only happened when we were at school.

Dad slept in Janet's bed and I shared the other big bedroom with my sister. We had bunk beds but with the two beds side by side. Mum used the third bedroom for her hairdressing.

Life, on the whole, was pretty good, for a short while.

The rows started between Dad and Janet after about a month. It was just like before, constant rows and shouting. At least I had Chrissie to hide with. Chrissie wasn't used to her parents shouting at each other. I told her it was normal. Idiot that I was. I took her upstairs to hide, out of the way. I told her to get into bed and pull the covers over her head and to stay there until Mum came up for us. I got into my own bed. Five minutes later Chrissie came in with me. We pulled the pillows down and the covers up. Didn't move until Mum came up next morning.

Mum looked like my Mum used to look after a row with Dad, puffy faced and dark patches of skin on her face and arms. I gave Mum a very sad look but knew better than to ask what happened and why. Chrissie had no experience of our Father's behaviour so asked her Mum what had happened.

She was told that her Father didn't want her to do any more hairdressing. That she, Chrissie should never again ask what had happened or why and never to mention Mum's bruises, puffy face or anything else to anybody else. We were not to mention hairdressing either.

She said I'd been good bringing Chrissie upstairs out of harms way and that we should do the same every time it happened in future. Mum clearly understood it would happen again and again. As did I, it was exactly the same with my Mum. My Father was a brute. I apologised to Mum for his behaviour. She didn't laugh, just thanked me and told us both that we must leave her to sort it out. She promised she would but it would take time and we all had to be patient. Until then we both had to be very careful when our Father was around.

We walked on egg shells whenever he was home and did our best to make it better for Mum when he wasn't. It didn't stop him beating her but at least we knew that there was never any justifiable cause. He was just a very nasty man.

### ### ###

It was a Friday, Chrissie and I were twelve and sat at the dining room table making a start on our weekend homework. Mum was out shopping. We heard the front door. That'll be Mum we both thought. It wasn't, it was Dad! No warning whatsoever!

"Where's yer Mum?"

"Out, shopping." we replied instantly.

"You!" he pointed a finger at me, "out! I'll deal with you after I've dealt with your sister."

I was twelve! I wasn't being treated like that! Nor was my Sister.

"Why?" I demanded as I got out of my chair.

"You arguing with me BOY?"

He punched me straight in the face. I went dizzy. He grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and threw me out of the dining room door and into the passageway. He slammed the door, hard. As the dining room door slammed shut the front door opened. Mum took one look at me, by then blood was beginning to come from my nose.

"What's going on?"

"Dad! He's in the dining room, with Chrissie," I blurted out.

I've never seen Mum move so fast! She dropped her bags where she stood and was beside me in seconds.

"Be alright for a minute or two?"

I nodded.

"Follow me, get Chrissie out. Hide!"

Mum went through that door like a lioness protecting her cubs! Dad was so shocked he let go of Chrissie completely.

"Run!" I shouted from the open door.

She ran. As I closed the door quickly behind us I heard Dad shout 'you wouldn't dare!' Mum replied 'try me!'.

Then there was a strident scream, nothing like the scream of Mum when Dad was knocking her about. It was a terrorising scream of aggression followed by a dull thud. That was followed by an agonising scream of pain mixed with surprise.

My immediate thought was 'I hope that was Mum kicking Dad in the balls!'

"You bitch, I'll kill you for that!"

Another strident scream followed by a loud crunch which in turn was followed by the crash of something falling into furniture. Two more screams followed by two more blows followed by silence. I led Chrissie into the kitchen and got a rolling pin out of the drawer. I stood by the door and listened. Who wasn't able to fight back? Mum or Dad? I hefted the rolling pin and asked Chrissie to pass me the Marigolds. I put them on quickly. They felt awkward but the rolling pin didn't slip in my hand any more. We waited.

It was Mum's voice.

"You got two choices. You walk out of here with everything in your bags and go. We ever see you again I'll call the police. Else you leave here on a stretcher, very badly damaged, and I tell the coppers I caught you molesting my daughter. What's it to be?"

Dad grunted something then instantly screamed in agony.

"Last chance. You'll be only be unconscious, if the ambulance gets here in time!"

Another grunt.

"Good choice! I see you anywhere near me or my kids ever again you'll wish I'd killed you here and now. Now get out!"

The lounge door opened. Dad opened the front door with one hand. The other was stuck inside his jacket. He struggled to pick up both his bags with the one hand and headed off down the garden path. He didn't look back.

Mum watched him out of sight, closed the front door, locked it and turned her back to it. She slid down until she was sitting on the door mat. Resting her head on her knees she shuddered violently then started to sob her heart out.

"Mum!" we both shouted and dashed down the short hallway.

We knelt about her, not sure what to do. Mum lifted her head. Her eyes were puffy, tears were streaming down her face and... she was smiling?

"Ohh, that felt so very good," she laughed, "should have done that years ago! Now, let's take a look at your nose Ryan. Chrissie, put the kettle on, we've got some celebrating to do! Wait! Marigolds?"

I tried to explain but Mum hugged me before I'd finished.

Mum decided that my Father hadn't given me an interestingly broken nose, just a bloody one. Chrissie told how I came by it and I got a big hug and kiss from Mum for being brave and one from Chrissie for being her brave big brother. Mum rang the Council and thirty minutes later a man came and fitted new locks to all the house doors.

That night and for the next week we all slept in Mum's bed. Mum one side, me the other and Chrissie between. So we can all look after each other, Mum explained.

On the Monday, straight after school, Mum took us to the dojo where she had been learning self defence for the last few years and signed us all up for evening lessons, three times a week.

"I couldn't fight back until I was certain I could beat him soundly, otherwise your Father would have killed me. Then where would that leave you two? I also had to work and save enough money to be able to pay the bills. You've both been a great help, thank you," Mum explained once we'd got home after our first session of training. Chrissie and I never missed a training session in five years.

I have not seen my Father since!

It was during that first week after my Father was thrown out that my relationship with my Sister blossomed. It had always been good. There was no unpleasant sibling rivalry. We were definitely best mates, buddies or pals. We did things together because we wanted to.

After Dad went, we referred to it as AD, Chrissie started calling me 'her hero'. I suggested it wasn't quite right, all I did was get a bloody nose. She pointed out that I'd got the bloody nose by trying to protect her. Which I pointed out wasn't very successful and so it went on for a while until she threatened to buy me some tights.

"What!?"

"Y'know, tights so you can wear them under your 'Y' fronts and be my very own Super Hero!" she laughed delightedly.

Anyway I found myself worrying about her much more. She wanted to go out? I'd offer to go with her, no matter what I was doing at the time. She never refused or argued. If I said I was going out, she'd ask if she could come with me. We just wanted to be together. Some nights, when she had a bad dream or was restless she'd come to my bed for a cuddle. Mum often came in to my room in the morning to find Chrissie snuggled in my arms, generally fast asleep. Mum always smiled.

"She have a bad night?" was all she would say.

About a month after Mum threw our Father out (1 month AD) Mum had a letter from Gran, Father's Mother. We only heard from her on birthdays and Christmas, cards, usually. She congratulated Mum on throwing her son out. Only girl to have the nerve and balls to do it. She also said that Mum was to tell me that my Mum didn't walkout on me, she was told to be gone before 'he got home', or else! My Dad had told her to leave me when she went. She had hoped to return and sneak me away from school once she'd found somewhere safe but found she was pregnant with another of 'his' children and couldn't manage a baby and a little one on her own. She hoped I was happy and didn't feel too badly towards her.

Mum looked at me as she read that bit out.

"Well?" she asked kindly.

I had to admit that after watching what Mum had suffered at the hands of my Father and the memories of my Mum going through the same hell I didn't feel badly about her at all. I just hoped that, like me, she'd found a much better life.

The letter went on to say that there was another girl, before my Mum who had his child and three since Janet. In all he had at least 8 children by different women. I asked Mum if there was anything we could do to stop him. Mum looked terribly sad then explained that had my Mum called and told her what a beast my Father was, she wouldn't have believed her. 'It would be different for me'. Unfortunately that's what we all probably thought.

It's then that I told Mum that I'd kept a diary of every time my Father had beaten her up. Chrissie piped up and said she'd done the same. Mum smiled at that.

"Keep them safe, just in case," she suggested.

Things rapidly improved. Mum had continued working as a hairdresser despite Dad beating her and telling her she must stop. She only worked while he was away and didn't tell us or anybody else except her clients. She always went to them instead of doing them at home. What we didn't know our Father couldn't force out of us, she explained.

As soon as he was gone from our lives she worked all the time she could. Us kids did what we could around the house and ran errands for the neighbours to earn pocket money. I got promoted to Man-Of-The-House sealed with a big, proper kiss from Mum and another proper kiss from my Sister.

That kiss from Chrissie, more than anything, was the catalyst, I think. Chrissie and I had been steadily moving from a Brother/Sister relationship towards Boyfriend/Girlfriend. Not so much in public and obviously never in school. We'd walk to school a little closer maybe and if nobody was about we'd link our pinkie fingers and squeeze briefly. At home it was different. We'd kiss and cuddle like any other boy/girl friend relationship. We didn't hide it from Mum but then we didn't announce that we considered ourselves boy/girl friend either.

Wouldn't have made much difference if we had tried to hide our feelings for each other. Mum knew, probably before we did. One Sunday morning, Chrissie had had a bad night and had snuggled in with me, Mum came in, smiled and told me;

"Breakfast in ten minutes, both of you!"

Chrissie liked to have a lay in on Sundays.

### ### ###

"We've got to have that talk!" announced Mum once we'd finished the Sunday, full English breakfast.

We both looked at her blankly.

"I've not been blind to the change in relationship you two now have. I'll be honest, I've no problem with it. In fact I'm delighted. BUT we need to have that talk where I tell you all about the Birds and the Bees, when you listen carefully to every word then do exactly what I say without argument, okay?" she said while walking over to the dresser and taking a thick, brown envelope from the drawer.

She dropped the envelope onto the breakfast table.

"I cooked, you two clear up while I get myself organised."

While a full English is wonderful and sets us up perfectly for the day... all those frying pans! Ugh!

"Right!" started Mum once we'd settled down, "I've collected everything I can find in the library, doctors waiting rooms and just about anywhere else I can think of. To be honest it's all pretty wishy washy. So, we'll go through everything I've got here and I'll expand and explain as we go along on the basis that I've bin there, done that. I'm assuming you both know where babies come from and how they're made but we'll start before that stage and cover it in real terms once we get there. OK?"

It was and for two hours we sat while Mum explained and answered each and every question we asked without getting flustered or embarrassed. We had a break. Chrissie and I talked about everything. Mum was right, the 'official' bumph was exactly that, bumph. An official panacea for the total failure of the education system and parents to properly prepare their growing children for adulthood. We were very lucky, we had Mum. If she didn't know it wasn't worth knowing. She even admitted that she understood why our Father had behaved as he had and, more to the point, she understood why she had let him. That must have been a difficult thing to admit.

"Questions?" she asked once she'd finished.

We asked and she answered.

We didn't need to ask the big question. She'd made it very plain in her talk and made it utterly clear that there were no exceptions.

I leaned over and kissed Chrissie fully on the lips with Mum watching.

"I'll be good! You're worth waiting for and nothing is worse than the thought all of us being split up," I told her solemnly.

She kissed me on the lips and repeated my words back to me. Mum smiled happily.

We started to do things as a family. Days out, walks on Sundays, trips to the seaside. We even had a few holidays, camping. It was a cram getting everything into Mum's little car but we enjoyed it.

Life, on the whole, was pretty good.

### ### ###

Life moved on. I was growing up with a beautiful Mum and a totally gorgeous Sister/Girlfriend. It wasn't just me that thought Chrissie was wonderful, all my mates regularly told me so. They were dead jealous that I got to spend so much time with her. They didn't know the half of it.

In reality Chrissie and I spent the vast majority of our time together. Being very close together in age we were even in the same class for most of our lessons at school. We went to Self Defence together and all our activities were shared. Not only were we Brother and Sister, Boyfriend and Girlfriend but also best mates. With Mum we were the Three Musketeers, the three of us against the world.

### ### ###

Like all adolescent boys I had fantasies about girls and women. Unlike most boys I didn't have posters of beautiful, unattainable, females decorating my bedroom walls. I didn't need them. I had the living beauties in my house, every day! There when I awoke and still there when I finally managed to sleep. Mum filled my fantasies as often as my Sister. Sometimes they were both there and we did fantastic and, frankly, impossible things together.

Mum wasn't a problem, in my head anyway. She wasn't my birth Mother, she wasn't my step Mother nor yet my adoptive Mother. Technically there was no valid reason why I shouldn't fuck her or even marry her for that matter. That thought fuelled a great many erotic dreams and fantasies.

Chrissie was a different situation. In reality we had the same Father, bastard that he was, so she was legally my half Sister. A big no-no! On the other hand she had a different surname to me. I was a 'Jenkins' whereas Chrissie was a 'Robertson' so, no known connection. Both our Birth Certificates showed 'Unknown' in the Father's name section. Mum had made it perfectly clear that there was no official record linking Chrissie and I. The story we had always used was true. My Dad already had a son and Janet already had a daughter when they hooked up. Totally true, as far as it went. End of.

I knew, Chrissie knew and Mum knew that once Chrissie and I were of legal age we would have sex, if we still felt the same about each other. That was still a long way in the future and I felt no immediate compunction to remove Mum from my nightly fantasies.

I loved being the man about the house. I helped Mum with everything she wanted even doing things before she'd thought to ask. I helped my Sister with absolutely anything she asked. Where I could I helped them both as much as possible. In fairness, they did no less for me.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't tempted some times and in later years Chrissie admitted that waiting was the hardest thing she'd ever done. What pulled us both back from the brink every time was the sheer terror of being slit up.

Time flew past. I earned a few pounds cleaning neighbour's cars. Mum worked more as we became less needy and Chrissie helped me doing whatever we could to make it easier for Mum. We'd also earn a few extra pounds running errands for neighbours. It was a good system with each of us putting in what we could.

Life was very good.

### ### ###

Jumping forward a chunk of years.

It was a couple of months before my most important birthday. Sundays were our day off, to do things as a family and we'd just finished our Sunday Full English and Chrissie and I were washing up.