Just a feel-good story with a happy ending
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For years I'd been away from home, travelling the world, building a good career while I was at it I might add and remaining independent but now I felt that it was time to connect up with the family once again. It had been ten years to the day since I'd left home as a mark in my diary confirmed and it felt right that I should make some effort to reunite with my family.
Perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea – perhaps I should never have allowed kinship to enter my mind again, perhaps I'd be better just roaming the world just as I had been of late. But blood is thicker than most other bonds and it really felt time to return, if not to the womb itself then to the womb of the family – if only just to show my face and to see how the rest of the family was getting on. I'd just turned 30 and time seemed to be rushing past...
I'd left home after I'd finished with university, secure in the knowledge that I could now progress into the business world along with my newly framed honours. I'd left home though, not because of my academic success but conversely because I'd been in no hurry to find work. It was too pleasurable to lounge around at home, vapidly browsing the internet, jerking off as often as possible to my magazines, screwing any female I was able to and generally 'having a good time'.
However, that ennui on my part had caused a big disturbance in the family – one that culminated in my father and I having a shouting match, my mother standing at his shoulder by way of support.
"Get off your backside and get a bloody job," he said finally, his face red with fury.
And I'd yelled back, "Well fuck you – I'm off then."
And that was that.
Within half an hour I'd packed and left – heading to the railway station; then to a friend's place for a while until I'd secured a half-way decent job and then I was off to continents far from home.
Years had passed – and in those ten years I'd changed so much. One of the first things I'd done was to change my name; I now used the name Chris rather than my given name of Rodney – well, who wouldn't? And I'd grown into a sun-browned hunk, all 6' 2" and 200 pounds of me. I kept my fair hair trimmed, my nails clean and my mind dirty and I could look good in beach shorts or a business suit. I'd found an opening in the tourist world; created a niche, made myself a good name and progressed well; my fifth travel agency was going to open next month. My bank balance was healthy and I'd even learned to speak several languages – I was quite proud of myself. I'd bought myself a comfy home and owned a modern car and one way and another I'd done well – far better than my father had ever thought I'd do, that was for certain.
But now I felt that bygones needed to be buried – I'd matured and time had passed and old wounds had healed, at least in my mind. It was time to return...
Half an hour before the town's edifices would appear down the road; once the road signs began acknowledging the town's existence, cold shivers began to run down my spine. Could I really just turn up at my old doorway and expect to be welcomed?
I shook my head quickly as reality sank in...no, this needed to be done in a somewhat more controlled manner; a gradual approach with perhaps a phone call or a card – and then a visit. My return was a precipitous idea that I now realised really needed more care – hell, I didn't even know if my family still existed; if anyone was there at all. Well, I did actually know that they still existed because my parents were still listed when I'd checked with the telephone enquiry service but I knew nothing more...
I needed to stay nearby but privately out of sight; almost invisible until I knew how the land lay. I mused on the matter as I drove, finally deciding that I'd book some accommodation for a short while, perhaps a week, maybe less. That would give me time enough to know, time enough to find out if I could return.
The motorway services were up ahead and I pulled in, partially to calm myself down and just as importantly to find somewhere to stay. My smartphone showed the local accommodation and I began ringing around, soon finding a suitably anonymous hotel on the edge of town. Quickly I booked a couple of nights there and they were willing enough to give me a discounted rate for more than an overnight stay; it would be fine – a good start.
And twenty minutes later I was parking in their car park, my heart once again hammering in my chest as the impending family reunion loomed closer. This was going to be scary; frightening – I'd rather have faced a whole new country than my own family! Heck, there was only my father, my mother and my sister but between them they loomed larger than an entire army!
As I lumped my bags up the stairs and settled into my room I discovered the extent of my accommodation – there were no catering facilities at the hotel and no bar. On the other hand, my room was more like a suite, consisting of a living area, a recessed bed, a small bathroom and even a mini-kitchen. It was nothing special but nevertheless the place contained all that I needed for now and would do for my needs, such as they were.
The one thing that I appreciated most was that I was given a key to let myself into the hotel and into my room, there being no formal reception desk or area. I could come and go without causing a fuss, so if I happened to find a bit of skirt then no-one need know! It would do – it was suitably quiet and peaceful, if boring...so what to do to pass the time? I needed to make contact with my parents but after that, what else? There was a TV in my room but it wasn't a satellite unit and my new personality wasn't really into watching television all day any more than I could spend all day browsing the internet as I'd once done. The view from my window overlooked the park and river but I couldn't just sit and stare all day, so what else. If I was planning to wait around, the very least I needed was something to drink; something perhaps to calm my nerves.
But rather than raid the small bar in the suite, a bar whose options ran to beer or vodka plus a few soft drinks, I decided to go and buy something from the shops.
I spread my road map of the town on the bed and scanned it, quickly picking out my old home address. I felt a shiver pass through me before I dragged my eyes across the map, now noting that the town hadn't changed so much that I couldn't find my way to the local supermarket, so picking up my keys I walked back to the car then headed off down the road. Soon I was in possession of sufficient booze to keep me going at least for a few days and having paid for my wares I drove back towards the hotel, now idly wondering what the old town looked like after those ten years. In curiosity I turned from the main road and began cruising the streets, seeking known landmarks and sights. The town was still the much same; some new shop fronts and a couple of new building but otherwise was remarkably unchanged – even the bridge over the river was exactly how I'd remembered it.
But it was there that my world changed – it was on that bridge as I drove over it that I spotted her – an obviously distressed woman just standing there by the bridge parapet and I actually drove past her before realisation hit me.
"Oh no you don't!" I exclaimed to myself as I did a quick tyre-squealing u-turn, "No way are you gonna jump!"
In seconds I'd pulled up near her and in seconds more I was beside her, my hand firmly on her arm.
"Hey – relax – it's ok. I'm here – let me help," I said, eager to explain my presence quickly, "Come on, come away from there."
"No, I don't want help. Just leave me – let me go!" the woman cried, her body squirming away from me, her face partially hidden by her hand and a soggy handkerchief.
I hung on though; she was my responsibility now and I firmly pulled her away from the river and stood between her and the parapet. She seemed to calm down now she was away from the closeness of the water and realising that she wasn't about to run or to hit me or seemingly do anything silly I moved closer in front of her and gently wrapped my arms around her while making as many soft and gentle sounds as I could; placating sounds to try to relax her.
She looked quite pretty – well, really pretty once I saw past the red eyes and smudged mascara and she looked as if she had a nice figure beneath her coat. I guessed that she was in her twenties, perhaps late twenties and she was quite tall, although with her deflated posture it was hard to be certain. In the half-light of evening, her hair was much the same colour as mine and her lips looked warm and soft but she was troubled, deeply troubled.
I needed to let her unwind and relax and to allow all the anguish to come out but first of all I needed to get her somewhere safe. Slowly and carefully I edged her towards the car, immediately seeing the fear in her eyes; the fear of abduction.
"No, you'll be ok – just come and sit down and let's have a talk – tell me about it – tell me what's upset you," I said as I guided her to the car, "It can't have been all that bad, surely?"
Between sobs and sniffs I managed to get her seated in the car and joined her, carefully holding her hand as she did her best to tell me of her woes.
"It was just everything," she cried, her voice fitful and weak, "So many things... My boyfriend left me and I ran out of money and I'm gonna lose my flat and then my dad shouted at me and told me it was all my fault and then they told me at work that I'd lost my job because my rotten boyfriend had caused trouble and then..."
"Whoa, whoa," I said, "Slow down, relax – it's all over now. Nothing else is going to happen now, I promise."
My promise was an idle one in a way – I knew nothing of this woman – for all I knew she could have been making it all up and yet there was no way that I could not help her, or at least try to help. I was hardly in a position to help her, apart from financially perhaps, but my inner self wouldn't allow her to get hurt again.
"But no-one loves me," she wailed as another flood of tears poured forth, "I just need loving, that's all."
Now that was one thing that I could definitely rectify, just so long as the needed loving was of the physical type – I could most certainly help there! And what was more, now that she was in the comparative warmth of the car her coat had been pushed open to reveal not just a substantial length of sleek, bare thighs but the swell of some quite substantial breasts as well. The potential benefits to my sex life were there to be enjoyed, so long as I played my cards right and immediately those thoughts penetrated my mind so a glow seemed to spread through me, a glow that turned into warmth in my groin, a warm and quickly growing sign of my arousal too.
But it was too early for that as yet; I needed to get this woman to unwind considerably more before I could hope to get her into my bed.
"Of course you're loved," I said softly and gently as I stroked her hand, "Hell, I love you already, you're so sweet and you've had such a rough time."
"It's been horrible," she wailed, "I don't know which was worse; my dad or the bank manager or my boyfriend – I just can't stand it any more."
"That's no reason to think of jumping in the river," I said, "Imagine how cold it would have been!"
That didn't help – the sobs kept right on coming...
"You would have got all your clothes wet too," I said, trying to keep things light-hearted, "Would have been a horrible mess!"
"I don't care – so what!" she cried, "I just want to be loved – everyone hates me."
I felt her hand grasp mine and squeeze; I was getting somewhere...
"I don't hate you – what have you done to me?" I countered, "All you've done is to stop me from being alone this evening and I'm really grateful for that but it'll be even nicer if you manage to dry those tears. Come on, see if you can do that for me."
