Brigit Pt. 04: Christmas Debt

Brigit Part 04 - Christmas Debt

Copyright Oggbashan November 2004/December 2017

Minor Edit April 2018

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Part One is 'Brigit'; Part Two is 'Brigit Too'; Part Three is 'Brigit's Babies'

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We climbed into bed, exhausted. We were side by side but too tired to do anything with or to each other. An excited three-year-old daughter had worn us out. In my head I regretted that I couldn't make love to Deirdre. We hadn't - for weeks and we were missing it. But we didn't have the energy. Christmas with an excited small child had been delightful but a reminder that neither of us were young. Our daughter Brigit might be our only child. Deirdre was getting past the age of safe child bearing.

If we didn't make love, even the remote chance of another child would be impossible. On Monday I would be back at work. The thought was depressing. Although I enjoyed my business, I was just too tired to have an enthusiasm left for it. Oh shit! Tomorrow we would have to remove the Christmas decorations. I would have to be up a ladder for hours taking down the external Christmas lights. Why had I used so many? I should have paid someone else to put them up and remove them. It was too late. Perhaps a night's uninterrupted sleep would help? I didn't know. I was just too tired to think...

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Introduction to Part Four.

I had met Brigit the Irish earth goddess. She had used me subtly first to change the lives of many oppressed and neglected women (part one) in our community and then with Deirdre to stop a refuse tip despoiling the countryside (part two). She had rewarded me both times and had brought Deirdre to me. Now we both worshipped Brigit frequently. 'Worshipping Brigit' can best be done with a man's tongue between a woman's legs. Brigit and Deirdre had made me suffer by teasing me about my inability to satisfy either of them. I had no hope of ever satisfying Brigit: no man could however fit and strong. When Brigit introduced me to Deirdre I was far from fit. A year later, after intensive training from both of them, I had become a new man sometimes capable of satisfying Deirdre - for a few hours.

Then I married Deirdre, with Brigit as bridesmaid or incognito goddess of honour, and we had a baby Brigit. The goddess Brigit, Deirdre and I helped the local midwives to save the maternity unit and encourage home births (part three).

CHRISTMAS DEBT

Our daughter Brigit had started nursery school last September. We call her Biddie to avoid confusion with the Goddess Brigit. Biddie is another version of Brigit. Deirdre had cried after she left Biddie at the door. At our ages we were unlikely to have a second child and this sign of Biddie's growing up had hurt. Soon she would be going to 'big school' and Deirdre would be alone for much of the day. I hoped to retire soon but the goddess Brigit kept finding projects to keep me and us busy. The goddess is immortal. I was feeling distinctly mortal. Even Deirdre had noticed that our lovemaking had become less energetic. Over Christmas we had stopped any bedroom activities. All we needed was sleep, lots of sleep...

It was Twelfth Night. I had removed and stored the Christmas lights. We had taken the Christmas decorations down in the afternoon. Biddie was in bed, tired out from 'helping'. Deirdre and I stood on our veranda with glasses of Irish Coffee, looking out over the valley to the lights of the nearest village. We were warmly dressed because there was a frost in the air. We both felt rather sad and very tired. Christmas was over; tomorrow Biddie would be back at Nursery school. Our normal routine would start again.

"Have you got a drink for me?"

We turned around, startled. Brigit came out through the French windows. She was in the form she usually wore, like the sister my first wife, Mary, had never had. She was still wearing a long blue dress. This time it was covered with a white fur-trimmed cloak, the hood framing her head of red-gold curls. I was instantly erect. Brigit always has that effect on me. Even disguised as Mary's sister, Brigit was the embodiment of all the desirable women I could imagine. Deirdre's hand grabbed mine. She knew the effect Brigit had on me, but I was Deirdre's.

Deirdre needn't have worried. Brigit had never harmed either of us. We had helped her do things for our community and Brigit always repaid us well for our work. Without the goddess Brigit, Deirdre and I would never have met and we wouldn't have a little Brigit to cherish.

"Well?" Brigit smiled at us. "Do I get a drink or not?"

"Of course you do," I replied. "You are always welcome in our house."

I tried to brush past her to go to get the drink. Brigit caught my arm, spun me round and kissed me full on the lips. I staggered, not from the physical move, but from the passion in that kiss. Brigit's arm circled my waist and hugged. She beckoned to Deirdre who joined us. Brigit kissed Deirdre as hard as she'd kissed me. Her other arm hugged Deirdre.

"Don't bother, Raymond," Brigit said, "I've brought drinks for all of us."

She pointed to the table just inside the room. There were three Irish Coffees. We went inside together. I shut the French windows behind us as Deirdre and Brigit shed their outer layers of clothing. Brigit's hand waved at me. My coat had gone. It would have reappeared neatly hung in the hall cupboard.

Brigit took our hands and led us to the new settee that had replaced the well-worn one that had seen so much lovemaking between the three of us.

She pushed me down onto the settee. She sat on one of my legs. Deirdre sat on the other. We sipped the Irish Coffee and I felt the familiar enjoyable sensation of drinking some of Brigit's breast milk. As always it made me feel wholly alive and wonderfully relaxed. I knew that Deirdre had the same experience.

"You two haven't worshipped me for some time," Brigit said with a smile that took the sting out of the accusation. She held up her hand to forestall our excuses.

"Never mind," she continued, "I'll make sure you make up for your omission later on. Christmas is over..."

I couldn't stop myself blurting out:

"What has Christmas to do with you, Brigit? You're a pagan goddess!"

She smiled again, the sort of smile that a mother gives a child who has said something stupid but endearing.

"Christmas may not mean much to me, Raymond. As you say, I am a pagan goddess. Some would deny me a soul or call me a demoness. I have a soul: you know I have. As for a demoness: I have some powers but I use them for good most of the time. An enlightened Christian might describe me as a fallen angel who will be redeemed at the Last Trump. That might be right. I don't feel fallen. I am an earth goddess concerned with the here and now and not the hereafter. I am no threat to believing Christians. Worshipping me and worshipping God is not necessarily incompatible. The theologists have different words to describe types of worship. I demand physical acts as worship. God asks for something very different and even He doesn't demand everything. 'Render unto Caesar' didn't Jesus say? On this world I am a kind of Caesar. Like Caesar I have no power in the next world even if his followers thought they could deify him after his death. Like Caesar had: I have power in this world."

Brigit stopped to sip her Irish coffee.

"That is really an aside, an explanation if you like. You can never wholly understand me. This time I was thinking of Christmas not as it affects me but how it affects my people, those little people who are at the mercy of the authorities, the impersonal multi-nationals, the banks and financial institutions. Christmas to them often means distress in January. For a few days of enjoyment they mortgage their future and they pay for it. How they pay..."

I could hear the pain as Brigit repeated 'pay'.

"What do you want us to do?" I asked. I knew Brigit was working up to asking us to help her again. My heart sank. Was I, were we, still capable of doing all we could to help Brigit? I wasn't getting any younger. I was fit, fitter than I had been for years before I met Brigit and then Deirdre, but I was too well aware of the years I was carrying. Biddie was a delight yet her arrival had made me feel too old to cope. How old would I be when she became an adult? It didn't seem an attractive prospect.

Brigit looked at me, sadly. She could read my thoughts. Then she acted.

I found myself lying prone on our large double bed completely naked. Brigit was naked beside me, propped against the bed head. Deirdre was lying on the other side of Brigit. Brigit reached out her arms and pulled each of us against one of her breasts. We instinctively suckled. Brigit's breast milk was and is wonderful. It revitalises us like nothing else. Neither Deirdre nor I had had a cold or even a snuffle since we first drank Brigit's milk. As I felt it trickling into my mouth the years fell away, the sadness left me, to be replaced with a calm knowledge that I was loved, protected and nurtured by a goddess. My confidence in my own abilities returned. With Brigit's help almost anything might be possible.

Brigit's thought sounded clearly in my head. 'You should worship me more often, Raymond. That would stop you feeling as bad as you have.'

Then she issued an order. 'Worship me - Now!'

I moved from her breast to her pussy. I extended my tongue and began to lick slowly. I sensed Brigit changing position until her pussy was directly above my face. My tongue tried to keep up. I couldn't reach until her body slowly lowered her pussy to my lips. Deirdre straddled my hips. Her hand guided my erection into her warm dampness. My last view before Brigit's body covered my eyes was the two of them wrapped in a passionate kiss. I had to concentrate my efforts. I had difficulty breathing until they started a seesaw movement. Deirdre thrust down on my hips; Brigit lifted to grant me a short gasp of air; Brigit squashed her pussy over me as Deirdre lifted. The movement was slow and measured. I knew from past encounters that they could keep it going for hours. Could I?

I sent a thought of appeal to Brigit. Would she help me, please? A reassuring answer came. She would prolong me as long as necessary. I would have sighed with pleasure except her pussy silenced the sigh.

I don't know how long we continued. I was aware of Deirdre reaching several orgasms above me. Brigit's pussy became warmer and more demanding above me. She shuddered several times and then there was a short instant of cool air above me. I gulped a few breaths before Deirdre's wet pussy claimed my face and Brigit engulfed my long-lasting erection. Soon after that I erupted into the goddess's body and relaxed into a half-conscious state as they continued to seesaw on me.

I woke briefly to find that Brigit alongside me with her breast in my mouth. Her milk was dribbling down my throat. Deirdre's body was pressed against my back. She was asleep. I looked up at Brigit's face. She smiled at me: the smile almost of a mother pleased with her son. Her hand stroked my forehead and I too went to sleep.

The next morning I was alone in the bed. I felt more relaxed and rested than I had been for a long time. I jumped out of bed, shaved, washed and dressed. The morning seemed glorious despite the sleet lashing at the windows. I followed the scent of breakfast to the kitchen. As I opened the door the smell of cooking seemed heavenly. I sat down at the kitchen table savouring the sensations in my nose. Brigit put a full English breakfast in front of me. I opened my eyes wide at the size of it.

'But...'

You're off your diet this morning Raymond," she said. 'You need energy more than a diet. You exercised a lot last night. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

"Then enjoy breakfast as well. You might need some strength later on today."

I ate that breakfast as if it was the best I had ever had. It tasted that good. Every part of it was perfect. Deirdre stood behind me as I was finishing. Her breasts pressed either side of my head. I leaned back against her. If I were a cat I'd have been purring.

Brigit sat down opposite me and pushed two cups of coffee towards us.

"Drink up," she ordered, "then I'll tell you what I want from you."

I had a momentary flash of anxiety that I would have to pay for last night and this breakfast. Feeling Deirdre's breasts still cradling my head made that anxiety disappear. Together we could do, and had done, a lot for the community with Brigit's guidance.

Brigit was worried that her people, who usually meant the women of the community, had done too much at Christmas to provide for their children. Many of them faced months of worry about debt incurred for Christmas, debt that they would struggle to repay. In the past the Citizens Advice Bureau would have helped. They were now underfunded and overstretched. They couldn't deliver the services they used to do and many people were deterred by a fortnight's wait for an appointment when they were getting daily phone calls from debt collectors. That was bad enough. The debt consolidation sales people were worse. They made a poor situation desperate by offering 'debt holidays' followed by exorbitant rates of interest. Once in their hands a three-figure debt could soon become four figures and then impossible to repay.

What Brigit wanted us to do was to set up a fast-track debt management advice centre until we could arrange that the local Citizens Advice Bureau was properly funded. We would be fighting a war against the loan sharks, legal and illegal. Once we had done that...

"There's more?" I asked, daunted by the task Brigit had already set us.

"Yes." Brigit replied. "I want you to set up a Christmas club so that next year some of the people have money available without borrowing. And..."

Deirdre's hand stopped my next protest.

"...I want another swap club set up so that the women can resist the demands of the consumer society, to stop them buying things like expensive trainers their children will grow out of before their parents have finished paying for them. They should barter toys and clothes with each other so they get value for their hard-earned money and... Oh, a lot more..."

I could see that Brigit was really unhappy about the sufferings of her people. I reached out a hand across the table. She grabbed it and squeezed. I squeezed back.

"Thank you, Raymond. I needed a hand. So will you. Many of them. You will have allies. The first is the woman you knew as 'Brigit'."

"She's not Brigit?" I was startled.

"She isn't. Her first name is Bronwen. I asked her to answer to Brigit as a password so that she would know that you were from me. You know her full name. You entered it on enough forms to remember it."

"Yes. I thought that she never used 'Bronwen'. I called her Brigit for months and she didn't say a word."

"If you remember how she was, she couldn't have said boo to a goose, and certainly not to you. Don't you remember how frightened she was when you yelled at the Mayor?"

"Yes, but I know the Mayor. We've been friends since school. He calls me rude names too."

"To Bronwen, the Mayor is a very important, powerful and distant person. She was really afraid of reprisals. Now, I think she wouldn't be as frightened as she was then. She'd be wary, cautious, but not terrified. Anyway, she is the first of your allies. You two should go to see her today. I'll write down her new address."

She did. Shortly afterwards she left as suddenly as she had arrived. Little Biddie woke up soon afterwards. I think the Goddess can ensure that Biddie will stay sleep when she wants to talk to us. Later on, when Biddie was happily playing by herself Deirdre and I checked our diaries. We had free time today, this afternoon, so we went to see Bronwen, leaving our baby Biddie at the nursery school. We had at least an hour and a half before one of us needed to collect Biddie again. That seemed a very long period after the few years when we had Biddie with us all the time. Babies are fun but time-consuming.

Bronwen was in and seemed to be expecting us. She had the coffee in front of us almost as soon as we sat down.

"Did Brigit tell you we were coming?" Deirdre asked.

"Yes. She thought you would be here about now. She was right. Did she tell you what she wants?"

"Yes," I replied. "She wants us to sort out Christmas for the community so that they don't end in debt; to sort out the debts they already have; and to make sure that they have a good Christmas this year without paying for it the whole year long. Not much, really, is it?"

"But this time we are allies," Bronwen added. "The three of us will be working together to help Brigit achieve her aims. Last time we met I needed your help to sort myself out. Now I am sorted and able to help others. It's a fantastic feeling and one I thought I'd never have."

Bronwen looked very different from the 'Brigit' I had met when she was poor and starving. Her body had filled out to a reasonable shape. She was well dressed and her hair and face showed that she was taking care of her appearance. I could barely recognise the woman I had helped.

"We don't know much about the problems of debt," Deirdre said, "Neither of us has been in debt at any time. How bad is it Bronwen?"

"Bronwen?" Bronwen asked. "Raymond has always called me Brigit."

"Because that is what the goddess Brigit told me your name was," I said. "Now she's told us the name you use is Bronwen. It is, isn't it?"

"Yes. I think I would rather forget that my nickname was Brigit. It could be confusing for all of us with the goddess and your daughter sharing that name. Brigit the goddess sent Raymond to me when I really needed help. I appreciated what you did for me, most of all that you walked away when you had finished and left me to make my own life. Few men would have done that."

Bronwen surprised me by kissing me on the cheek.

"I'd never have dared do that - then, Raymond. You scared me stiff. Now I can recognise you as a friend who helped me without using me."

"Deirdre helped," I replied. "Brigit sent Deirdre as soon as I had finished with your problem. Now we have another - debt. How big a problem is it?"

"Massive. Very few people on the poorer estates are free from it. It is better now than it was because you, Raymond, sorted out the benefits system but..." Bronwen stopped.

"What is the problem?" Deirdre insisted.

"Men."

"Men?" I asked.

"Yes. Men." Bronwen stated bluntly. "There are too many single mothers who have been abandoned by the babies' fathers or even if the father is still around he is usually a drain on the family's income instead of an asset. If a man is co-habiting with a woman the authorities assume that he is contributing towards the bills. Too often he isn't. He's unemployed, unemployable and too fond of drink and drugs. His income from the state isn't enough for the drink and drugs so he sponges on the woman, leaving her worse off than she would be without him. Of course not all men are like that but far too many are and that is the problem. If the men could become providers instead of dependants most of the debt problems could be overcome. How we change the men? I don't know. Do you?"

Deirdre and I looked at each other. We had no experience of the behaviour Bronwen was talking about. I admitted it.

"Bronwen, we haven't a clue about how to deal with that. Can you suggest anything?"

"Well, we could get a group of people together and discuss it, Raymond. That might be a start."

"It would. Can you do that?"

"Of course. We need somewhere to meet that doesn't cost too much. No one has spare money for hiring a hall." I looked at Deirdre. She nodded.