April 2005 – Helen's Holiday Continued
The Tangled Web is a story spanning several years and is based on the complicated lives of Sara and Sam, lovers who are brother and sister, and those they live with. Set in the English Midlands, the tale is told through a series of interlocking short stories. Although designed to be read in sequence, I have tried to make each chapter stand as a complete and satisfying story in itself.
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Early morning spring sunshine flooded through the pale curtains in the cottage's brightly painted master bedroom, bringing a warm glow to the two figures under the white duvet in the large double bed.
Still tired and jet-lagged from his intercontinental flight, Sam lay on his left side, his eyes closed, peacefully asleep. Behind him his sister Sara lay facing his broad naked back. Her eyes were open as she listened to his slow, steady breathing. She had lain there since the dawn chorus had woken her, peacefully enjoying his warm, comforting presence; almost unable to believe their new situation.
For Sara and Sam, brother and sister, now lived as husband and wife in an old stone cottage in a small village in the north of Britain. Their neighbours had no inkling that the attractive young couple in their midst, with the increasingly boisterous twins, were not all they seemed to be.
Their father having sadly died late in the previous year, their mother Helen had, after much inward searching, broken the shocking news that she had known about her children's incestuous relationship for several years. While Sara and Sam were still reeling from this revelation, she had broken the even more astounding news that, not only was she not horrified by it, she was actually prepared to help them in their half-formed plans to be together.
What would have shocked Sara and Sam even more, had they known it, was the fact that their mother had enjoyed her own incestuous relationship with their Uncle Steven. But that had been a secret for over forty years and Helen wasn't going to let a soul know about it now.
Sam wriggled a little in his sleep. Sara, still overcome by the novelty of sleeping and waking with the man she loved, watched his broad back for signs that he was beginning to wake. Sam stretched his legs and rolled over to face her, his body increasingly restless in his sleep.
Sara looked at his ruffled hair and his chin which, after his long journey, badly needed shaving. She smiled. Even asleep she thought he was irresistible – rugged, slightly wild – and she felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach.
She dozed, absently playing with the diamond engagement ring on the third finger of her left hand, wondering how best to rouse him.
Over three thousand miles away, Sara and Sam's slim, dignified, sixty-three year old mother Helen sipped her coffee in the high level café, gazing out over the million lights of the city at night. Across the table her brother Steven, tall, slim and steel-grey haired, smiled indulgently at his sister's almost child-like delight.
The two of them had passed a wonderful few days seeing the sights of Toronto and visiting Steven's extended family, all of whom lived within an hour's drive of his large, comfortable house in the suburbs. Helen knew her brother lived there alone, having sold his recruitment and training business in his early fifties, but was surprised to see how well he lived. He had collected her from the airport in an expensive sports car even Helen could recognise as a Porsche and, she had to admit, he looked better than ever.
Helen had been introduced to Steven's four children – all girls – and their three mothers – all busty blondes. Helen had warmed to all three of them, but was more than a little amused to note how very similar they all were and how different from Helen they appeared to be.
Not for the first time Helen wondered whether her own relationship with her brother had brought him sorrow over the years.
They had visited Niagara, and had stood together, Helen awestruck by the spectacle, watching the thundering waters as they plummeted headlong over the high falls. As they stood side by side, Helen slipped her arm through her brother's and leaned against his shoulder. Steven's arm went around her shoulders, warm and comforting.
They had walked arm in arm along the river front, listening to the roar of the rapids, until they found an inviting restaurant where they took the last remaining table for two overlooking the falls in the evening twilight.
They had enjoyed seafood the like of which Helen had seldom tasted before, its flavour enhanced by a crisp Sauvignon Blanc. Helen had felt quite light headed by the time the coffee arrived, but fought to keep her wits about her – she had an important job to do and Steven was the only person in the world who could understand.
The conversation had settled into a relaxed pause between topics and Steven was staring through the window at the last few rays of sunshine as they boiled away into the waters. Helen knew instinctively that the moment had come to broach the subject that had spurred her into making this long but immensely enjoyable trip.
"Steve?" She began. He turned to look at her, laying his coffee cup on the saucer alongside his plate.
"Mmm?" He replied, his eyes bright and interested.
"Steve, do you ever think about....the old days? About....well, about what happened between us?"
"I wondered which of us would be the first to bring it up." He laughed.
"Well?" She pressed him.
"Only every day, Helen. Well, perhaps every other day."
"I often wondered whether it had ruined you life. I missed you so badly, Steve, when you were sent away. But you know I wasn't allowed even to write to you once you went."
"I know, Helen. I know. I wrote to you every day for a month but you never replied. I just thought you regretted it all so much."
Helen was enraged.
"Steve! I never received a single one of those letters. Not one. I thought you were regretting it too!"
