Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 07

The dress was white. "I hope it's not too hypocritical," she grinned, "but it symbolises for me that I desire with all my heart to come to you as a virgin and my regret that I'm not. Also it's my first and only wedding."

The dress was also modest, though it was very shaped to her delightful hour-glass figure which could not be hidden, nor would anyone want it to be. It fastened round her neck and was full length. She also had a veil which was over her face as she came up the path. This was a nod at David Reich, who you will have gathered, was Jewish.

The bells silenced, the organ played "All people that on earth do dwell" and it was good to hear everyone singing. When we reached the altar steps the vicar explained the significance of my raising the veil as referring to the story of Jacob in the Torah (I asked him to use the term Torah for David's sake) who was tricked by his father-in- law Laban into marrying his less pretty older daughter, Leah, when Jacob really wanted to marry the younger pretty one, Rachel. The vicar went on to say that all turned out well, since Jacob married Rachel as well, but that was why the groom lifts the veil – to check it's the right woman he's marrying!

He then added something I had not said, but Penny had told him.

"I believe the older sister in this our story today, did go out with Graham, but is now spoken for! So there will be no surprises and I think Graham will be well pleased with the vision he receives as he now lifts the veil."

I lifted the veil up and over, and he was right, she was unspeakably beautiful. It was probably the makeup so expertly applied, in this case by Penny, but Connie had never looked as pretty as she did then, when I raised the veil.

The ceremony progressed according to the rites of the Church of England, the only surprise for me was that when repeating the vows after the vicar, she added "obey" which he had omitted, causing him to lose his place and raise an eyebrow, as well as a grin. Again, later she said it was an act of faith that I would always treat her as an equal and we would decide things together. She said I deserved it.

We left the church to Widor's Toccata, which was not as common as a recessional as it is today (the Royal Family didn't get round to using it for another eight years). The bell ringers rang rounds until everyone was outside in the sun, and the photos were begun. Then they 'fired' the bells, and went back into rounds, then 'fired' them again twice more.

Firing? The ringing master calls "STAND". All the ringers hold their bells up and when the tenor is up and still, he calls "FIRE". This is not an invitation to evacuate the premises. They ring them all together at once in a cacophony of sound, twice, before going back into rounds again. It is very dramatic, noisy and fun.

We had invited family and close friends to the wedding 'breakfast', and a large number of other folk, including all the staff at work and Connie's university friends, to an evening disco and buffet supper, so it was doubly gratifying to see many of the evening guests at the actual wedding.

Once in the wedding car we kissed 'properly', by which I mean using tongues, which would have been out of place in the ceremony, where our kiss was still thorough, but more suitable before the children present at the service.

I worried a little that her parents' absence would cast a shadow, but she was not in the slightest bothered, and all day her face was lit by a beatific smile. Again she explained to me that they had repudiated her and not just once, and she had lived without them long enough that their absence had no emotional effect at all. "Their loss," was her comment.

Derek took the rôle of Father of the Bride for the speeches. By common consent the absence of Connie's parents was not mentioned in thanking everyone for coming, especially Connie's aunts and uncles (though, like her parents, Uncle Kieran did not reply to the invitation), in any case it was glaringly obvious who was not present or referred to.

The rest of his speech was short and loving, telling a few humorous anecdotes about Connie's childhood and teenage years, praising his sister for always being herself and for coming through her trials in London with so much balance and strength. Then he toasted us.

My reply was as short as his speech. I simply told the guests that Connie was the best person ever to come into my life when she did, and how loving and strong she had been. I praised her success, due to hard and dedicated work in her university course, and predicted a first class degree if she continued to shine as she had.

Then we all toasted the bridesmaids. I did not single out Penny, since it would have been awkward for her with everyone knowing about our past.

Jack was a star, thanking me on behalf of the bridesmaids, and then launching into the most embarrassing account of my early sex life. There were things mentioned to ribald laughter that I did not know he knew. Finally he thanked Connie for 'civilising' me, and said he knew she would keep me under control for the rest of our lives.

It came as a complete surprise to me and everyone, when Connie stood up. Everyone became very still. In those days, brides did not make speeches at weddings. She was brief and to the point, embarrassing me further. It went something like this.

"After my experiences in London as a down and out, and still in an impossible position in Bolton, I was an emotional wreck, and had no worth or self-image left. I have to thank Mary and her husband who brought Graham to me and literally, I am sure, saved my life.

"Graham took me in, cared for me and was so sensitive to my emotional needs. He was so careful not to replicate the behaviour of so many men in that horrible time. Then he introduced me to his family who long before this ceremony made me a member of that family, and made me so welcome. Thank you Mum and Dad, I'll be for ever grateful to you."

I looked over at my mother and father and could see how deeply her calling them 'Mum and Dad' had affected them. Mum had tears in her eyes and the widest smile, and my Dad was wiping his eyes.

Connie went on "As to my dearest loving husband, his contact with the Roasburie family has been a roller-coaster ride, but I hope at last that ride is over, because this woman is now a Proctor! I know I've made vows to you, Graham, in Church, but I want to say that from now on I'll look after you as well as you've already looked after me. I love you very much."

She sat down. There was utter silence, and I could see many in the room, men as well as women wiping their eyes. Then the applause erupted and the cheering, as Connie sat with a huge grin on her face as she looked at my own tear-stained face.

"Gotcha!" she crowed.

And sure enough, she had.

–-

We consummated the marriage that night. She stripped off her wedding dress and showed me the pure white underwear set, all lace and gauze hiding and revealing at once. There was the obligatory garter in pale blue, which took my attention.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," she recited.

"The garter is borrowed and blue," she said. "The undies' set is new," she said, proceeding to slip her thin knickers down, revealing under it a thong the girls had bought her the previous Christmas. "This is the oldest sexy thing I've got," she said almost shyly. She slipped that down as well. There was no suspender belt: the stockings were held up by garters (the blue garter was ornamental).

"I borrowed the blue garter from your mother!" she said and cackled at my shocked expression, as I wondered when my mother last wore it (apparently at her own wedding)!

"Want to see my tits?" she asked. As if she didn't know the answer! She reached behind her in that deft way women have, sexy in itself, and uncoupled, letting it fell forward off her breasts. There they were, standing proud, nipples rock hard.

"Your tits are so perfect in every way, and so sharp!" I said with admiration.

"Well then," she said. "Lose the clothes."

I did, and we did make love. No comments, no words at all from then. In fact little noise, for she spread her legs, knees bent, and I lay between them and we did it missionary style. I did her slowly and deeply with long thrusts until her hips told me it was time to hurry up, when I simply did the same gentle strokes but faster. It took longer but had a stronger effect on both of us.

She convulsed with a tiny squeak, her eyes tight shut, then open wide staring into mine: it was a challenging stare and it brought me off with a single grunt and a number of exhalations until I had emptied it all into her lovely body.

My cock slipped from her and I rolled off her.

"That was very 'nice'!" she said, "You did it with consummate skill!" and laughed a throaty, happy, contented laugh at her own pun.

"A somewhat understated ratification but accurate," I said answering her laugh with my own.

"You did it very well," she said patronisingly, "and nice in the sense of neat: I think it was another reference by you to my treatment in London, you made it as different an experience as it could be, didn't you?

"Yes. Guilty as charged, me lady. Glad you liked it." I answered with fake humility.

"Enough for tonight?" she said, kissing my cheek, then my ear, then my lips as she leaned over me, her tits threatening to pierce my chest.

"Do it again tomorrow?" I asked.

"You'd better believe it! Then as often as possible!"

Patrick had offered us his cottage in the Cotswolds, and thither we went the next morning, early before anyone was up, without breakfast. We were on our way south towards our honeymoon and the rest of our lives together.

End of Diary entries.

–-

Forty five years on and I no longer need to beware the Roasburies. Penny married Martin and Connie married me, so neither of them was a Roasburie any more. That all ended forty odd years ago. The Dragon, her brother and her husband Geoffrey have passed on long since, as have my own parents.

Those older Roasburies: a sad story of an obsession which ended badly. Kieran Walsh was told Penny's break-up story 'adapted' by Lucy Roasburie. He saw an opportunity to amass some more information to discredit me which would help him rid the practice of my immoral presence, and commissioned the report, a copy of which he passed on to Lucy. Lucy had it altered without Kieran's knowledge when Penny obtained a post in Manchester near to my flat and Lucy feared we might meet and compare notes. Lucy did not realise Penny had taken the altered report with her.

Geoffrey eventually discovered the truth about Lucy's use of Caroline Gresty. It was the last straw for him and at last he divorced Lucy. The house in Rowton was sold and each of them moved into smaller houses nearer Chester but far from each other.

Geoffrey made peace with us all. After all, his attempts to split Connie from me were mild compared with Lucy's. He became a doting grandfather to his array of grandchildren. He also married his much younger personal assistant, a very pleasant and pretty woman, who now, in her advanced years is a loving step-grandma.

Lucy became increasingly bitter and never spoke to any of the family again, in spite of Derek's attempts at reconciliation. She blamed everyone but herself and went to her grave a sad and lonely woman.

Our children have gone their ways into the wide world, and we two sit in our living room, or should I say 'drawing room', in this lovely big old house. She is crocheting something and I am finishing this, typing on my laptop.

I lost Connie three years ago to cancer, and Martin succumbed to a cerebral haemorrhage eight years ago, so you'll have guessed that the woman living here with me is Penny. It seems the Roasburie girls can still surprise us.

It was Connie who ordered us to amalgamate our households,. She called Penny and me to our bedside. She was determined to die at home in our bed, preferably with me by her side. She was very weak, but her voice was firm.

"Now you two, I will soon be gone. I know Penny has always loved our house – she's practically lived here since Martin passed. So I want you, Penny, to sell up and move in with Graham. Bring any furniture or effects you want and Graham will get rid of some of ours to make room, won't you Graham?" She did not wait for an answer: she knew I would deny her nothing.

"Now be clear, I want you two to 'live together'. To be clearer, same bedroom, same bed. Penny, you know Martin would want you to do that. I've sounded out the children – both lots – and they think it's a great idea.

"I don't want you just to be companions to mitigate loneliness, I want you to be lovers, happy together, and we all three know you will be if you do what I ask. I know you love each other. After a year or two, I want you to get married.

"This is my dying wish, my darling Graham, my lovely Sis. Will you do this for me?"

It came as a shock to both of us. We looked at Connie, who, bright eyed, was grinning her signature grin, full of love. We looked at each other, and we knew. We both nodded.

"Seal it with a kiss," ordered Connie, "a proper one – I want to certain you'll do it."

We kissed, a proper one, and it felt comfortable and right somehow.

Connie sighed and settled back. "Now I feel at peace," she said, and two days later she died. She got her wish, I was by her side. After a goodnight kiss and a gentle cuddle, I woke up next to her the following morning and she'd left me in her sleep.

Now, for Penny and me, after three years 'living together', same bedroom, same bed as instructed, it's time.

December.

The family will gather next week, and we will marry in the Parish Church where we ring, on Friday. Immediate family and closest friends only, and that will be a large crowd! The ringers will ring, at our request, with bells half-muffled, in memory of our beloved departed spouses. There'll be no firing.

Why that particular Friday? Penny insists on it.

It's Friday 13th December 2013.

Exactly Forty Five years on.

Like the bells we ring –

Full Circle.

–-

END.

Coincidences.

This story arose from an experience of mine many years ago, which has always intrigued me, though I emphasise the real people were and are nothing like the characters in the story, nor is the fictional story anything like any of theirs.

While a first year undergraduate I briefly dated a girl, let's call her 'Mary Proctor'. We found we had little in common and parted friends. Four years later I was doing my post graduate Masters at Liverpool University, and met another girl who was introduced to me as 'Ann Proctor'.

"Oh," I said, "I used to go out with someone called Proctor at Manchester."

She was intrigued, and further discussion revealed that Mary was her sister! This must have piqued her interest for she agreed to have dinner with me.

'Ann' and I dated for some months before she went to Scotland to work. She was very different from her sister both in looks and interests.

About two years after my Masters course ended, a middle-aged colleague joined us and he and I were chatting. I mentioned I had been at Manchester and Liverpool Universities, and he said two of his nieces attended those universities. I told him I dated two sisters, one in each university, and that my two were called 'Proctor'.

He was their uncle – their mother's brother. He was able to fill me in on their lives since 'Ann' and I parted, and as a result she and I began corresponding again and still do. My wife and I have met her and her husband regularly since.

Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction, though no stranger than the story just completed!