The Girl at the Spa Ch. 04

Leah opened her mouth, and Mum raised a finger.

Silence resumed and Mum walked back into the kitchen with Dave following, Labrador-like, at her heels.

Ali looked at me and nodded towards Fi; I got the message.

"Come on Fi," I said, "let's get a few pictures of you so the stylist can plan what she's going to do with your hair."

"Oh... OK," she said, slightly concerned at the drama she had previously and immaturely lived for.

I took her into the conservatory where the light was so much better for that kind of thing and got some pictures with my phone. I chatted her up the tiniest bit and made her smile making the pictures that much nicer.

Back in the sitting room Leah was staring at the floor, fat tears pouring down her face. Ali stepped up close and pulled her into a hug. For once Leah did not shrug it off, and rested her head against Ali's chest and wept.

"It's OK honey," said Ali feeling Leah's broad shoulders heave as she cried, "let it go, let it aaall go." She squeezed her tight, feeling Leah's hands reach around her waist tentatively, The Tomelty's weren't big on hugging after all. "That's a lot of years of sadness you need to get rid of honey, you take as long as you want..."

After a few long chats with Fi over some coffee's in Guildford, or mugs of hot chocolate in London Ali was now pretty sure what Leah's problem was.

Twenty minutes later, I peeked around the corner into the sitting room to see Leah, head on Ali's shoulder, tissue in hand pouring out her heart to my Fiancée. She told of her loneliness when her mother had left them, and how she had effectively raised her sister Fiona after her father had pretty much left her to it to concentrate on his life.

I went to the kitchen, made a mug of tea and headed for my bedroom and some reading I had to do for final exams.

Ali came in forty five minutes later, and plonked down on the bed looking pleased with herself. She took my phone from the bed, took a sip of my tea, sent a text message and grinned.

She stood by my locked bedroom door and waited for a tap. She opened the door for my Mum. Without a word being said, my Mum raised her eyebrows inquisitively and held both thumbs up expectantly.

"Of course," said Ali dismissively. Mum high-fived her soon to be daughter-in-law with a beaming grin.

"Never stood a chance," said Mum.

"What? Against both of US?" said Ali, I looked from her to my Mum, "worked perfectly," said Ali sitting back down with me again.

"You planned that shit didn't you." I said.

"Like a Boss," said Ali, "right down to the bitch-slap."

"Been waiting for the miserable cow to give me an excuse at the same time as Ali's been here for a bloody month," said Mum, "she walked straight into that one, and now Ali's got her."

"Another apprentice to the dark side," said Ali taking my tea and finishing it this time.

"Mum or Leah?"

"Definitely Leah," said Mum with a grin backing up to my bedroom door, "I sold my soul to the dark side the same week I took the bar exam. Goodnight Darlings, I have to go and convince David that I'm not going to divorce him since I hit his daughter - I don't think I'll mention that fact that Ali and I have been planning it for three months so we could finally chill that snooty bitch down in time your wedding."

"As I suspected it's all down to your husband and his ex-wife I'm afraid Laura," Mum stopped and raised her eyebrows and nodding in encouragement, "seems in their haste to split up, no one could decide who was going to take control of their children's lives. Sadly neither of them did and both sets of In-laws were so convinced the other should be doing it that eventually poor Leah had to step into the void with the onset of her puberty at the age of 12 and has been bearing that grudge against the rest of the world ever since."

"Fucking hell," said my very disappointed Mum.

And so Leah appeared in a rather fetching bridesmaid dress, although she did attempt to talk her way out of it a couple of times but Mum called her bluff and having already felt her spite, she quietly agreed.

I was stood outside the church with the five bridesmaids and my best man, a friend from University, Mum asked where Dad was rather crossly, and I said he was escorting the bride. She looked at me with some concern, almost as if she demanded if not some kind of explanation then at least some kind of role in the proceedings as well, just to make things fair.

The vicar of the tiny St Georges Church that we had chosen for the ceremony was quite young and not at all phased by the step-brother marries step-sister with no blood relationship thing we had going on. It was his idea that there wouldn't be a bride's side and a groom's side as with most church weddings and it was more of a 'leave the front few pews for immediate family and just grab a seat where you like' kind of thing and we filled the place, with many of the young men and women from the Spa acting as ushers and Mum and the Leech were nagged into place, across the aisle from Meghan and Grandma.

I walked in to stand ready with my mate Tom, while Dad drove into the small car park in the black Jag. Just him and Ali.

"Ready?" he said.

"Ready," she took a deep breath.

"You look gorgeous Darling, I so proud of you," he said.

Soft old sod.

Ali grinned,

"Love you Daddy."

"Love you Baby girl." They walked into the church hand in hand, as warm and as bright as the glorious July day.

Like the old saying goes, it was the fastest thirty minutes of my life and in no time flat we were in a horse drawn carriage waving to the many Port George villagers that had come to see the local girl marry the man of her dreams and we were drawn up the slope and towards the swung open gates of the Spa to more cheers.

It wasn't until halfway through the reception and the speeches and Dad stood up as 'Father of the Bride' that Mum became really suspicious and I could see that she was bouncing around on her seat as if it was a hot plate. I could read it in her face that she could smell a big hairy rat so decided in my speech to come clean with the rest of my maternal family about what they had all watched that afternoon.

Dad had spoken about how honoured he was to do this for 'his gorgeous Alice' who had stolen his heart when she was an eight year old, and then just to keep it in the family went on to steal his son's.

I thought Mum was going to stand up and start shouting,

I smiled at my Dad and got to my feet and Mum calmed a bit.

"It's amazing to think that it wasn't until the day after I met the love of my life that I found out she was my Dad's wife's daughter." There was some good natured laughing from most there but some dropped jaws from the Londoners, a few of Mum's family including my two maternal aunts, both Doctors as well. As the room quietened I saw them look across the large table they shared with their husbands and children, take one look at the gorgeous bride, and with raised eyebrows and grins nod in agreement. I felt that perhaps I didn't need to point out that we had slept together within 18 hours or meeting each other.

"I'm pleased that my gorgeous wife Alice didn't point out that my Father was married to her Mother until after I'd already fallen in love with her!" She blushed, and I resumed. "But If I'm honest it absolutely didn't matter because within 24 hours I knew that, step-sister or not, my life wouldn't have been complete until we were husband and wife," There was an 'awwwwwww' and I blew her a kiss.

Mum folded her arms, Dave the Leech carried on smiling like he felt he should do, then alternately scowling when taking the hint from his wife. Mum was sat next to Ali fortunately so my new wife slipped an arm through Mum's, kissed her cheek and stopped being 'that Meghan's daughter' and just became 'Darling Alice' again.

I turned and raised my glass of Champagne and thanked all of the many ushers, and then to Ali's bridesmaids. Fiona was still enchanted by her dress that had nothing 'Fairy on the Christmas tree' about it and was really stylish and sexy with a plunging neckline to show off her grown bust, and fitted around her narrow waist and now shapely bum. She had very proudly held the tiny cushion that the vicar put our rings on while chief bridesmaid Paula took Ali's bouquet. Fi was really pleased with the part she had played in the whole event and more than that, the nice young, shy, single, slightly nerdy McNair Chiropractic sports therapist and 'Thrones' fan usher that Ali had ordered to take care of the just twenty year old slightly nerdy undergraduate bridesmaid. From where I looked I thought the feeling was mutual.

(It was so mutual in fact that that by the end of that summer Mum, with some minor level of disgust, announced that Fiona was changing her degree from Psychology to a Masters in Sports Psychology. Fi became a regular weekend visitor to The Spa and the Michael the usher, and thanks to Ali and Meghan and their nagging yet educational insistence that Fi ate properly she filled out, was taking regular and appropriate exercise and shaped up very nicely.)

Leah looked quite ravishing in her dress and wore make-up for the first time ever. Ali had ordered an Usher to look after her but the feeling was in no way reciprocated as with Fi's companion for the day.

"Not to worry," said Ali standing next to Mum and the Leech, "I've planted a seed, all she needs to do is take some of Byron's romance and start to consider it as an option for herself." She looked across the dance floor where Fi and the usher were dancing and smiled. One down, one to go.

At eight the bride and bridesmaids went back to the apartment to get changed for the evening and I walked Mum to her bungalow so she could do the same. She looked around The Spa as we walked and I pointed out where the scary moments of a year before had taken place.

I showed her the almost unnoticeable Helicopter landing pad over her room, how it had been used and rough how much it had cost.

"He's not going to buy his own chopper then?"

"Not that he's told me," I grinned.

"He's done well for himself," she said looking around at the wonderful gardens and with views of the Atlantic in the glorious July sunshine, "I'll give him that." She stopped at the door, listening to the sound of the disco starting. "I'm sorry I kept you away from all of this when you were a kid Richard, it would have been wonderful for you."

"Bit late for that Mum," I said moving her wheeled suitcase through into the bedroom where I had lost my virginity to my new wife two years before shy of a week. Didn't tell her that bit of course.

"Yeah," she said, "that's one of the things that you learn as a parent, all you can really do is apologise for the shit you got wrong. Since I had a chat with Dave about Leah's problems, he's been in therapy."

"I'm sorry about that." I said.

"Me too," she walked to the large bay window that looked down towards the sea, "I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if I'd never divorced him. Your Dad that is."

"Yeah, I guessed as much," I said with a grin.

"Well he's one of three Richard," she grinned back, "definitely the best of the bunch. I look him, at all of this, and think that it was the biggest mistake I ever made." She wiped a single tear from her normally dry eyes, "he's still very handsome isn't he."

"Mum; don't 'what if'! I know Dad and I know you, if you hadn't divorced him chances are life would have carried on but seven years ago they would have found his body at the bottom of those cliffs down there."

"Why Richard, what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that you would have become so infuriated by his easy going, happy go lucky, always coming up smelling of roses way about him that you would have murdered him."

"You're probably right," she giggled, "at least I could have conducted my own defence."

"Yeah," I said, opening the curtain a touch more, "Ali and I are staying here this evening, and the last thing I want to hear is Dave's scream as he plunges to his death on those rocks out there at three tomorrow morning. The fence has been repaired but..."

She looked at me with a funny, practiced court room smile.

"Trust me Richie..." she never ever called me Richie, "If I do it, you WON'T hear a scream..."

"Thanks Mum," I said and kissed and hugged her.

The next morning Ali and I flew from the helicopter pad to London Airport and a taxi to Heathrow for our two weeks in the Caymans, it was paradise and Mr and Mrs McNair Jnr had just the best time with the best of everything. We screwed each other senseless and it completely sealed our loving relationship.

When we went home it was back it was back to the Spa before OUR return to Cambridge and London.

We got back to the Spa, met Dad and Meghan, had a cup of tea and later that afternoon headed out to the pool, in swimmies this time as 'other people' were here.

The other people were Michael the ushering sports therapist and a curvy, tanned blonde that was staying for a weekend at Meghan's insistence as she was considering moving her Masters in Sport Psychology to Plymouth and he was 'showing her around'. Fi had matured incredibly, probably due to the growing up requirement for a student that lives in halls. She grinned and waved and slipped out of her towelling robe at the pool looking a thousand times more feminine that the rake thin, obnoxious witch that had tried to impress me with her teeny emaciated body in her teeny bikini that morning two years before that had sent me running for my Dad's place and Alice's loving arms. Karma is strange like that.

Ali ran across the pool with a hug for her both sides of 'Project MiFi' and from that moment Fi had the older sister she'd never known.

Later that year Ali was there with my Mum and the Leech, and Dad and Meghan as I stepped down from the podium after collecting my degree and could formally call myself Dr McNair and write 'MD' after my name. I know that my Mum had a real hope that I'd get a job in London, or at least somewhere between Cambridge and home. I did think about that, but a month before my graduation I found an advert for a junior doctor in the Accident and Emergency Department in Truro which was spitting distance from the Spa and as part of the Royal Cornwall NHS Trust meant I would probably have to move around that corner of the country. It was perfect.

I moved there and started work driving my graduation present, a slightly beaten desert camouflaged 90 series snatch Land Rover that Dad had bought me to get me around Cornwall and west country whatever the weather and road conditions. There was a good reason for that as my gorgeous Alice was pregnant and she was overjoyed to be announcing the fact to Dad and her Mum. Meghan pretended to be shocked that she too would become 'Grandma', but I could see that she was really pleased and proud.

Grandma, who was in truth Great Grandma, was really pleased and proud when Ali told her over Skype that she was soon to be Great-Great-Gra'ma. I found out around that time that Meghan's Mum had died in childbirth, at which point the whole family kind of lost their faith in modern medicine and Grandma raised Meghan as her own.

My Mum wasn't so struck on becoming 'Nanna' but I told her that she had gotten over me marrying my step-sister and surely being Nanna was absolutely nothing.

We went to London to tell her and The Leech in person and Alice just reverted to being the 'Ali' and wrapped everyone around her little finger as she had before and I think she was actually quite pleased about the whole thing.

Six months later, I was stood by the midwife in Truro General Hospital and holding Ali's hand as our twin sons were born. As the new Accident and Emergency Doctor from just down the hall and still in my scrubs, I was told in no uncertain terms to keep my nose out of this maternity matter.

"Thank you Dr McNair," said the midwife, "you look after the top half, I'll do the bottom..."

I held my boys, fat tears pouring down my face, I knew that no way could I ever go back to London. Doctor Richie McNair was going to stay working at the Royal Cornwall Hospital, then perhaps train and become the local GP and work to support the community, or learn Chiropratic, or I guessed would one day step into private medicine and become the resident Doc at The Spa, which would eventually pass on to me and my wife Ali, and then to our children.

That first Christmas as parents ourselves was at the Spa. The previous year we had gone to America with Mum and the Leech but tonight Dad and I were we wrapped up against the cold Atlantic winds blowing at us. We stood with our glasses of port and discussed that terrible night, the refurbished cage to our right. Sean had been sentenced to life imprisonment with a minimum of 25 years because of his violence to Ali, his planning and preparation in his attempts to execute me and his lack of any kind of guilt for what he had done and had then attempted to do, and I was still amazed at the general level of family calm about the whole experience.

"It's a McNair thing mate," said Dad, "Ali has it too. We take everyone on trust and see the best in them, take Fi and Leah for instance." He sipped his port, "Sadly Sean read more into it."

We both thought quietly about our blessings for that year and the year before, again.

"Yeah," I said sipping my port, "Dad?"

"Yes mate?"

"You and Ali - promise me one thing; even after all that shit? Don't go changing..."

"No fucking chance mate, the world is better place for my daughter, your wife."

He raised his glass towards the luxurious apartment up the hill and decorated for Christmas where Ali, Meghan and Great-Great-Gra'ma were holding and fussing over the latest Spa babies that even for six month old boys still wouldn't sleep through the excitement of the world around them. I did likewise and thought about Mum, the Leech, Fiona and her boyfriend, even Leah over there in France.

Those far off bells chimed the midnight hour again.

"Happy Christmas Richie."

"Happy Christmas Dad," we downed our port in one, and walked back towards the house and our family.