The Fall Ch. 08

'Uh, like that,' she encouraged him. 'Just like that. That's good, really good.'

He had no problems following instructions, particularly when the results started to speak for themselves. Lydia grabbed him by the hair and began to grind against him.

He felt very normal, very capable. Her bed smelt like the washing powder she preferred, her skin smelt like Nivea, and she tasted as good as he remembered. He was no different to any other man, going down on his girl on a Friday night.

'Uh, Dylan, nearly there,' she warned.

He gave her the thumbs up. The orgasm was the best bit, wasn't it? He could feel her bare feet on his back, and she was alternatively pulling and pushing him around, so he knew she wasn't lying about being close.

She gave one last, desperate whimper, before grabbing at him, smashing her cunt into her face, and letting out a string of expletives. He was pleased. Horny, too, because irrespective of how his body functioned this days, his mind functioned just as it always had.

'Oh shit, Dylan,' she swore, pulling him up. 'That was embarrassingly quick, wasn't it?'

He chuckled and kissed her neck. 'Kinda like me when we first met.'

'No, no, I actually think you had a bit more staying power than that.'

'Lyddy, I love you so much. Give me your hand. I want to see if I'll get hard.'

They played around with him for a while. He could get hard, and as long as she kept touching him he stayed hard, but he didn't orgasm. It was disappointing but not entirely unexpected. Maybe thing would improve over time. He was still fairly anxious about his loss of manhood.

When he'd had enough, he spooned her and ran his fingers through her hair until she was fast asleep. He knew he was a lucky man. She was crazy, she was beautiful, and most importantly, she loved him for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elise's fourth child was released from hospital three and a half months after he was admitted. She wanted to yell and scream at the men who had broken her son. Dylan had always had a good heart. He was a good man. He didn't deserve to be in a wheelchair.

She couldn't bear to look at his baby pictures. He was born eleven months after his brother, and she'd always felt he missed out on her attention. His infancy had passed in a blur. Before she knew it, he was a child, then a teen, then a man. Married. Divorced. Crippled.

Oh shit, she was angry. In her youth she'd been religious, and she'd married the son of a pastor, but over time, her faith had changed. She no longer believed in the God that was presented in the Bible. She no longer felt that she or her children should be constrained by sometimes archaic rules. Nonetheless, she prayed long and hard, begging God to rid her of the rage that plagued her. It wasn't healthy.

Two weeks after Dylan was released, Elise received a phone call from the tenant who was renting Dylan's land. There was an issue with the septic system connected to the shed's bathroom. Could she come and have a look?

She knew nothing about the septic system. She rang Dylan, who thought he knew what the problem was. He'd go out with Lydia tomorrow morning to fix it. Elise asked him if he thought he was still capable. Dylan considered her question, and admitted he might ring Kyle and ask him to come out, too.

The four of them found themselves at the property shortly after eleven on Sunday morning. Elise didn't understand what needed to be done, but between Dylan, Lydia and Kyle, the problem was solved.

'Mate, I'm impressed you got parts so quickly,' the tenant told Dylan.

Dylan grinned. 'I live in Brisbane, mate. Bunnings opens at nine.'

Elise thought they were done for the day, but on the way back to their cars, Kyle asked them if they wanted to drop around for lunch. Of course. The O'Sullivan's always did Sunday lunch. Elise was never a regular visitor, because unlike most people in the community, she secretly disliked Ed and Anna, but she remembered her prayers to God, seeking help with her rage. She bit back her resentment, smiled at Kyle, and said she'd love to.

She'd known that Anna and Ed were both on the way out, but nothing could have prepared her for how ill they both were. They were shadows of who they once were. Elise, who was Anna's age, felt momentarily guilty about her own good health, before remembering exactly who this couple were and what they'd done, not only to Dylan, but their other actions, particularly Ed's, in the past.

God, she prayed, God, stop me from being so angry. Stop me from wanting to ask why they haven't sent a cheque to Dylan. Stop me from loathing them. Stop me from demanding to know why Anna secretly sneers at Lydia, because Lydia, for all her faults, has stood by my son. It's Lydia who'll end up bearing the financial brunt of Dylan's injury, and you and I both know Goddamn well that that's not right.

Why had Dylan ever decided to be friends with Kyle? Kyle was nearly a decade older than her son. He was weird. And, most definitely, still as much of an alcoholic as he always was. He drank alcohol the way most people drank water.

Maybe she was being cruel. Kyle was a good man. He was as much a victim of circumstance as Dylan, only Kyle didn't understand either the circumstances, or his victimhood. All he understood was that he was trapped on a farm with a father who seemed remarkably adept at playing silly games.

It was winter and bitterly cold, and there was only a small gathering. After lunch, Elise and Lydia went inside to help Anna tidy up. Lydia was forcing herself to be bright and cheerful. She was in blue jeans, knee high boots and a black pea coat, and her face was white from the cold. Her tattoos and bosom were covered and if not for her hair, she would have looked like any other woman her age.

Elise liked Lydia. The younger woman wasn't particularly clean and tidy, and she smoked too much, but she never complained when Dylan's family came to visit, and she'd wordlessly accepted that her garage was going to be filled with car parts and tools.

She was different to anyone Elise had ever known before, but not necessarily in a bad way. She just was who she was. Clearly Dylan liked her, too, because on his last home visit before release, he'd taken her off to bed ridiculously early in the evening. Elise had assumed he was just tired, and combined with the assumption that her son was now asexual, when his phone had rung, she'd opened the bedroom door to give it to him. The next morning had been more than a little awkward for all of them, and their door now had a lock on it.

Elise flushed red at the memory as she dried and stacked a plate. All of Anna's crockery matched. None of Elise's did. She had birthed too many children, and now had too many grandchildren, to have either the money or the inclination to have matching plates.

Kyle appeared at the door holding a carton of cigarettes. 'Lydia,' he said, holding the cigarettes in the air. 'Hopefully this makes up for all the smokes I've bummed off you.'

Lydia's face lit up. 'You actually bought me a carton? I was beginning to think it was just an empty promise. Come and have a smoke with me. I'm sicking of standing all by my lonesome.'

The two went out the front of the big house. Elise returned to drying.

'I don't trust her,' Anna said.

Elise frowned. 'Who, Lydia?'

Anna nodded and gestured to the front of the house. The scent of tobacco wafted in, and they could hear Lydia and Kyle laughing.

Elise wondered if Anna thought Lydia was flirting with Kyle. If so, it was a ridiculous assertion. Surely a woman could talk to a man, and vice versa, without it being sexual? And to be frank, Elise would have been flabbergasted if Lydia ever cheated on Dylan. She didn't have the personality for it.

'You just need to spend some time with her,' Elise offered defensively.

Anna didn't comment further. She just sat down and massaged her temples. Elise told herself to think nice thoughts. Anna was unwell. She didn't know Lydia. She didn't see what she was like at home.

Lydia came in after she'd finished her cigarette and started putting the dishes away.

'Would you be careful?' Anna snapped at her. 'They're Spode.'

Lydia stood stock still. 'Sorry,' she apologised. 'I have no idea what Spode is, but I'm going to assume it's important.'

If Anna hadn't been on death's door, Elise would have leant over and slapped her. The stupid, stuck up bitch. Like she was any better. At least Lydia was never malicious. Lydia never went out of her way to hurt anyone. That was more than could be said for Anna O'Sullivan.

Lydia continued to put the dishes away, but very delicately and slowly. Elise thought that perhaps she should try talking to Anna about something non-controversial.

'How is the farm going?' Elise inquired.

Anna threw her hands up. 'The usual, only without a farm manager.'

'What happened to your old one?' Lydia asked. 'It was Alan, wasn't it?'

'He quit,' Anna snapped. 'He quit the day after the roof incident.'

'I didn't know,' Lydia replied irritably. She'd obviously been pushed to her limits. 'You might remember that nobody bothered to tell me about the accident? Including you. You decided I was a drunk, and that gave you the excuse you needed to keep me in the dark. So I'm sorry if not knowing is offensive, but I'm not exactly up to date on what happens at your bloody farm, and at any rate, I always thought Alan was a relative of yours.'

Elise's stomach clenched.

Anna glared icily at Lydia. 'I have no idea why you'd even think that.'

'Well, Alan did kind of look like your husband,' Lydia replied. 'And he looked a lot like Kyle's son, Neal.'

Anna turned to Elise. 'You stupid, nasty woman. I'd have thought you were beyond idle gossip.'

Elise stared at the elderly woman sitting at the table. She may have cancer, and she may be dying, and she might be popular in this community, but Elise had never liked her. Not from the day she arrived in town forty-eight years ago and set her sights on Ed O'Sullivan, who was rather inconveniently engaged to Elise's cousin Mary at the time.

Anna had wasted no time worming her way into Ed's heart. The shamelessness of the pursuit had both shocked and enthralled the community, but somehow, rather than being viewed as the vixen, Anna somehow managed to win everyone's affections. When Ed broke off his engagement with a devastated Mary and took up with the schoolteacher, no one seemed to care.

No one except Elise and Mary. A heartbroken Mary had been sent to Sydney, to live with a relative who had a place in Liverpool, only returning to visit her family each year at Christmas. Mary continued to pine for Ed, and had Ed maintained some ability to act like a gentleman, she probably would have moved on, but Ed liked attention. He maintained contact with Mary, ostensibly as a friend.

Two years later, with his young wife at home suffering morning sickness, Ed headed out to a New Year's Eve party. Mary was also there; she'd come up to visit family for the Christmas break. Nobody noticed anything untoward, or any impropriety, but it seemed in hindsight that neither Ed nor Mary made it back to their respective homes that night.

Mary returned to Sydney early in the new year. She stopped making visits at Christmas, and nothing was heard from her until her parents were killed in a car accident a decade later. All of a sudden, she was back in town, with a husband and three children. If the older one looked uncomfortably similar to Ed, then it either went unnoticed or unmentioned. Besides, Mary's husband referred to Alan as his son, so why create trouble?

Mary and her husband remained in town for ten or so years. Farming was less romantic than Mary had remembered and her husband had envisaged. Unless you were wealthy or lucky, or a combination of the two, it had the ability to batter both bodies and bank accounts. By this stage they'd added another child to their brood, stretching it to four, and money was tight.

Alan was nearly finished with high school and it was decided that Mary, her husband, and the three youngest children would return to Sydney. Alan would be left in Queensland. A subtle request was made to Ed O'Sullivan; employ the kid. If you're not going to acknowledge him as yours, at least give him a job. Take some of the financial burden off us.

Ed gave him a job and a home in an old shack on the property. As far as Elise knew, Alan still had no idea the man he thought was his father wasn't the one who had sired him. Nor did Kyle know that the man he worked alongside was his half-brother. The only thing Alan and Kyle knew was that they were enemies. Right from the beginning, Ed seemed to enjoy pitting them against each other.

'Huh,' Lydia remarked, obviously managing to connect the dots. 'So I take it Kyle and Alan don't know?'

~~~~~~~~~~

Ed and Anna O'Sullivan died two weeks apart. Lydia didn't give two shits about their passing. She didn't either funeral, although Dylan did.

She'd never really cared for Anna. She'd never understood why Cyril, and so many others, seemed to like her. Maybe she had a nice side. Maybe Lydia had only seen the bad side, a darkness bought on by cancer. It was possible. Lydia didn't spend too much time worrying about it. The woman was dead and gone.

All the same, she tucked away the knowledge of Alan's paternity, knowing full well she'd never reveal it. What was done was done and there was nothing to be gained from exposing old secrets. Alan had found work elsewhere, in a suburb a few miles away from the O'Sullivan farm, and Kyle took over management of the family farm.

The months passed and Lydia realised it had been almost a year since she went to Cyril's. She missed the old geezer. She'd never stop being grateful to him. For someone who hadn't been her father, and who hadn't even wanted kids of his own, he'd done a fine job standing by her and helping her out when times got tough.

Dylan now worked part time, in retail, in a car parts business. They paid him minimum wage, even though his being in a wheelchair didn't really impair him, and all other staff got a higher amount. It irked her but not him. He was just happy to be working. Secretly, she was, too. Living off one wage had sucked, and it had been annoying having him hang around the house all day while she was trying to work.

Ben approached and dropped a ball in front of her.

'You stink,' she told him.

He wagged his tail happily. Lydia groaned. She knew she'd have to wash him. Dylan struggled to do it from the wheelchair, and Ben had an unnatural dislike of the hydrobath people. She changed into a bikini and old denim shorts, fetched his lead and dog shampoo from the laundry, and took him into the backyard.

Lydia tied the leash to the old Hills Hoist washing line and attached it to Ben. She turned on the hose, wet him, and rubbed a generous blob of shampoo into his long coat.

'Nice arse.'

Lydia flipped Dylan the bird without bothering to turn around. He just laughed and rolled himself closer so he could watch her bathe his dog. She ignored the fact that he was staring at her tits, and finished washing Ben.

The second Ben was freed, he ran over to Dylan and shook himself. Lydia smirked with unbridled satisfaction as her lover was sprayed with water.

'Aw, not fair,' Dylan complained. 'Come here, Lyddy.'

She wriggled onto his lap and kissed him. He smelt and felt rather good. He took better care of himself these days. He only looked like a caveman half the time, he'd lost the extra weight he'd been carrying, and the physiotherapy and rehab work he'd done had gifted him with a love of strength training.

'Do you want to go inside?' she asked.

'Would it be bad if I said 'yes'?'

'Um, no. It would be bad if you said 'no'.'

They went inside. He went to the bathroom because he hated having sex with a catheter in, and she went to the bedroom. She propped herself up on an elbow and eyed off his biceps as he got into bed.

'Do you think it's wrong to check out a paraplegic's arms?' she asked. 'You have really good arms these days. Your muscles are really defined. Same as in your stomach. You almost have a six pack.'

'Kind of a pity about the legs,' he replied lightly.

She checked out his lower half. 'You look like you skip leg day,' she agreed.

He rolled his eyes. She laughed and buried her face in the pillow. She really should be nicer to him. He really did deserve a woman who wasn't continually teasing him.

She could feel him stroking her hair, and she turned around. His hazel eyes were filled with love, and the expression on his face melted her. All the same, she couldn't resist squeezing his bicep admiringly.

'You really have a kick arse body,' she said.

'Lydia,' he complained, resting his forehead against hers. 'Stop talking.'

She knew he was pleased, just as she knew it wasn't accidental that he now had guns to be proud of. He was self conscious about his body, and keen to make himself as physically attractive as he could. It was working. She was forever perving on him.

'You're so gorgeous, inside and out,' she murmured, brushing her lips against his. 'I love you. I love you so much.'

She reached for a hair tie and tied her hair out of her face. She kissed and stroked his body, focussing on his cock, and when he was nice and hard, she mounted him. Sex was getting better and better. It wasn't just a physical thing, it was a very emotional thing. She adored him. She felt so close to him these days.

Sometimes she tried to imagine what it must be like living in his body. He could feel pressure on his legs and feet, but he couldn't move them much and he said sex was different. He was sensitive around the point of his injury. She'd lay in bed at times and try to pretend she had no feeling from the waist down. It was hard to comprehend. When she'd told Dylan what she was doing, he'd said that it was a difficult concept to grasp until you'd experienced it.

She rode him until she came. She'd put a lot of effort into learning how to orgasm through vaginal sex. She knew it was important to him, and as he had enough self esteem issues going on, she'd figured the least she could do was work out which positions were most likely to make her climax.

Often he'd have an orgasm, too. Sometimes he even ejaculated, although that was much rarer. They didn't use contraception, although they weren't exactly trying to make a baby. If she ended up pregnant, so be it. If she didn't, they were okay with it. Maybe that would change one day and they'd want to do IVF. It wasn't something that was at the forefront of their minds right now, though.

Lydia climbed off, and knelt between his legs. She gave him head until he indicated that he'd climaxed, and she scooted up the bed to lie next to him. It was summer and it was hot. Air conditioning was due to be installed on Monday and she couldn't wait. She was so sick of sweating. Dylan, of course, didn't seem to mind the heat. He never had.

'What do you want for Christmas?' he asked her.

'Um...' she paused. 'I don't know. You?'

'A night away with you sometime in the New Year. Dinner and all that shit. You know.'

She knew. He was pretty cheesy when it came to romance. It was cute, actually. She'd always wondered what it was like to be with a man who bought her roses, and boxes of chocolates, and stuffed toys, and now she knew. It wasn't half bad.

'Anywhere in particular? Gold Coast, Sunshine Coast?' she asked.

'No, you choose.' He replied. 'What do you want?'

She literally couldn't think of anything. She had everything she wanted in life. She stretched out her legs and stared at her feet. Her toenails were disgusting. She really needed to cut them.

'No idea,' she admitted. 'I'll think about it and let you know.'

They laid together on the bed, hugging and kissing and talking. She had a new tattoo, a portrait of Cyril standing beside a prime mover, and Dylan traced his hands over it. Cyril's will was still being disputed. She'd been told it would probably take years to resolve. She chose not to listen when certain family member's discussed what they felt they were entitled to. They were entitled to nothing, absolutely nothing.