The Really Complicated Family Ch. 05

I made sure whenever Tim was in the room, that I bent at the waist as often as possible and I could see from the surprised but pleased look in his eye and his occasional glance at Mum he was impressed with the view. My knickers were big enough to wear while going through menstruation but I had pulled the back high to cup and caress the arse he'd got to know so well that morning.

We went shopping and Mum insisted this time that she didn't need the wheelchair. As Tim had predicted half way around the huge store, he complained of pains in her hips and that she felt faint. Not so faint that Tim couldn't run to the main entrance and get the wheelchair we'd asked her to use in the first place.

Because we wanted to celebrate our weeks work, we bought steak, and Mum complained that she couldn't afford such luxury, still suffering under the misapprehension that the housing benefit and her meagre pension was paying all the bills and Tim has some kind of 'little job' that went towards the odds and ends. Little did she know that his wage dwarfed her pension and they hadn't received housing benefit in years, and more so, the house was Tim's and it was thanks to Dad and Nanny Barnes bequest to Tim that their standard of living had improved so much. Had she of known of course she probably would have spat the steak out and eaten bread and cheese to show how cross she was.

We grilled the steak and Tim went to the local take away and bought a mountain of chips. We ate with gusto even having a bottle of a very nice red wine, Mum complaining about the expense and wastefulness of it all. For that reason Tim waited for Mum to go to bed before he went to the fridge and brought out the cheesecake, leaving it on the plate and just bringing two spoons. We ate the whole thing laying on my bed watching my favourite romantic movie, 'When Harry met Sally' just holding hands.

When I'm on, I rarely feel that sexy and explained to Tim that even though I was sure he was safe to plough my particular furrow, I wasn't actually in the mood and he understood. But he did take a great interest in the mechanics of the process and the tampon and pads and I removed my skirt and lowered my knickers so he could see what was going on. I did think about perhaps giving him a blow job but my tummy was aching and I didn't even want to go through the energy of that simple act. We woke really early next to each other on Saturday morning, still half dressed. Fortunately the few glasses of wine Mum had drunk had pretty much knocked her out, and Tim was able to get to his bed undisturbed for another hour.

I got up and decided to have a shower, leaving the both wine glasses and both pillows with signs of use. I hung a scarf on the inside door handle as I pulled it shut.

As I luxuriated under the hot water, I heard some chatter as she obviously checked in on Tim then the whine of the chair lift as she descended. By the time I got back to what Mum had taken to calling 'the guest room' she was in the kitchen grumbling about the drunkenness of the night before and the over sleeping. The wine bottle was rinsed and in the garden ready to be taken to the bottle bank, so the only indication would have been the two glasses in my room.

I felt around the door and silk scarf was gone, the handle must have been turned and the door opened. It was only two wine glasses, but enough to get her nasty over active imagination going at light speed. She was really starting to look askance at me more often now. I confess I did little to disprove her correct reading of the situation, leaving a few clues that taken individually meant nothing, almost.

We all jumped into my car and I drove out of Manchester heading to the rival county of Yorkshire and drove out in the greens of the countryside around the Vale of York just for a change from the Lancastrian gloom. We stopped and had lunch, including some alcohol for those not driving. Mum nodded off after lunch and as we drove through the lush greenery I whispered to Tim (just not wishing to wake Mum) about a holiday this year; I meant for all of us.

I noticed in my rear view mirror that Mum's eyelashes flickered just too much. Tim said that it would be nice but we'd need to get passports; I had one already and he'd meant 'Me and Mum'. I could see her trying not to show she was awake and I carried on whispering in a voice I calculated would half travel to the back seat. I talked about HOT NIGHTS, shorts and BIKINI'S and that I wanted to get an ALL OVER TAN, and, because we were taking MUM we'd need to go full BOARD, so there wasn't too much HARD WORK. I closed by saying BOTH OF US should pay so MUM didn't have to spend HER money. Tim smiled and said what a great idea it was and he was looking forward to it.

I could see her face tensing in the concentration of trying to pick up on a conversation she was only getting a few words, Finally I put a hand on his knee and said, would should GET ON WITH booking it.

Mum decided to wake up at that point, and declared that she needed to go. We stopped in a small town, found, a local tea shop and had a cream tea. The intrigue had added to my appetite and I had mine and ordered a second. It was time of the month after all

I don't know why I was so keen for her to know what we were doing... fuck it, yes I do, I was angry that this woman had fucked up mine and Tim's lives by dragging us away from the people that would have kept us normal. Don't get me wrong, I'm really proud of what I've achieved thanks to my own work, but I lay in my lonesome bed that night thinking of what might have been; We'd both have been married with children and in the bosom of our families, Dad's cancer symptoms might have been noticed quicker as he wouldn't have been suffering with depression and anxiety at us being taken from him. My eyes filled with tears, as I tried to fight off yesterday's ghosts.

I went upstairs to the bathroom, why I don't know because there was a downstairs cloakroom. I flushed and washed my hands and it came to me that that both Tim's and Mum's bedroom doors were ajar. I couldn't hear Mum's annoying grunting snore, and wondered if she was awake. Just the thought of it, that snore, that thing that was everything about Mum - short, small, irritating, never ending and the years I'd been kept awake by it brewed and stewed. The anger and hatred not of Mum but what Mum had been and had done boiled up and caught in my throat. I was minded to go into her room again and tell her but finally settled on a different plan.

In the bathroom I took off my knickers and T-shirt draping them over my shoulder, opening the bathroom door BEFORE switching off the light. I moved silently into the shadows stopping at Tim's door. I waited for almost a minute looking at him asleep and half wishing I could get in next to him, before moving into the brightness of the moonlight and street lamps at the top of the stair knowing that I'd be visible from where Mum lay - if he was awake of course.

I hunched my shoulders, waved into the darkness of Tim's room to where he lay sound asleep and blew an extravagant kiss to him wriggling girlishly and turning and pointing my bare bum back at him, giving it a playful, silent slap, then turning back to wag an admonishing finger at him. Preparing the finale, I put my hands on my hips, leant forward to make my tits stand out, looked shocked at whatever he might silently have suggested before waving my hand back at him as if indicating 'no you can't' adding a wagged finger to indicate he was a bad boy.

I tapped my wrist where my watch would have been, jerked my thumb into Mum's room, made a yackety-yak motion with my hand, dropped my head to one side and put my arms around me in a 'hug' motion before blowing him one more kiss. I then stepped on the stairs pausing to look lovingly back over my shoulder, and daintily trotted down the stairs to my room where I put my knickers back on and lay on my bed. Marcel Marceau would have been proud of my little performamce.

Fired by revenge and any amount of emotions I masturbated myself to a very nice orgasm and drifted to sleep.

After my morning shower I put on the same perfume I'd worn for Tim when we first made love, and he reacted to it, his face breaking into his familiar smile I was getting so used to seeing. Mum sniffed, and gave me a look like she had twelve years ago. I was waiting for her to call me a slut again. I cooked a lamb joint for lunch and Mum complained, she'd had steak on Friday, and you couldn't have that much meat in one weekend as it wasn't decent. I now realise that

I was starting to leave her out of the conversation talking to Tim in a 'does she take sugar' kind of way that the elderly and disabled complain of so often.

When I kissed them both goodbye that afternoon, I let my hand linger on Tim's arm for just too long, and smiled and whispered to him. Mum looked furious and her peck on my cheek was cursory to say the least. Ah well, payback's a bitch I thought as I headed my little VW back towards the M1 and south for home.

Nearly a fortnight later I lay quietly in my bed at my house watching a late film, and my newly installed bedside phone rang. It was Tim and far from the usual discussions we had these days now he had a bedside phone; Mum had suffered a massive stroke and wasn't expected to recover. With the phone wedged under my ear I started to grab my clothes and dress. The panic in his voice was real and gave me wings.

Throwing together a small bag of clothes I rang the school phone number content that I would get the answer phone and left a short message for the head. It was a Wednesday night and as fate would have it we were a month short of the summer holidays and a six week break, and I promised that I'd be back bright and early from the following Monday.

Then with a second thought I rang Auntie Ronnie.

"Sorry to ring so late Ronnie," I said controlling the concern in my voice.

"That's OK Darling," butted in Ron, used to the vagaries of the female sub-conscious and hearing the emotional tone in my voice added, "You after Debs?"

"No Ronnie," I said, "It's Mum, she's had a massive stroke, she's not..."

"Stay where you are, I'll pick you up on the way through Darling," she said and within seconds had put down the phone.

I knew in my heart that it would be better if Ronnie drove; she would be a lot calmer than me. I made a flask of tea and some sandwiches for the four hour drive north. Ronnie was with me in half an hour and after locking my front door I walked down the drive.

"Where is she?" said Ronnie.

"Manchester Royal Infirmary," I said, fastening my seatbelt as she pulled out of the small cul-de-sac I lived in.

"Right," she said, "We'll get to Manchester then worry about finding our way to the hospital then."

Once on the M1 we chatted as we normally did but there was that unspoken tension in the air that whatever happened this would not end well.

I asked after Debs, and with a grin she let me know that Debs was doing fine and getting done into the bargain.

"You and Viv," I said, "you don't mind me... err... sharing?" I said. This was actually the first time I had acknowledged that we occasionally shared a bed and in doing so each other.

"Of course not Darling," she burst out, "the three of us are like family, and well you actually are family so that's that. You're both big girls anyway and able to look after yourselves, and what's more I trust her with you, and you with her." She looked sidelong at me, "Although I must confess Viv is occasionally jealous, she fancies you like hell!"

"Viv!?!" I burst out. The tall elegant, svelte and incredibly sensual woman that could make digging the garden look like a sexual act fancied me?

"Definitely Viv," Ron giggled, "have you never noticed her checking you out?"

"No," I said surprised, "She... well she always seems so... well so sophisticated and..."

"Sophisticated she might be Darling, but you are old to want to yet still young enough to be young." I waded through the words and the meaning, "and Debs does the cruel thing of never discussing how good you are."

"She... what?"

"Look, we are all lovers, we occasionally discuss what it was like with each other, with close friends but Debs knows that Viv fancies the fuck out of you, and has never so much as admitted to what you do. The walls are quite thin actually so we can pretty much work it out."

I smiled; I don't know that I ever thought about

what Debs did or said about me while I wasn't there, but to know that she kept my secret was nice – even if it was just to torture one of her girlfriends.

Ronnie continued, "Whenever we realised or worked out that Debs had had you, Viv would go into her room at bedtime and grab her – as you've probably guessed Debs is a bit of a closet 'sub' and likes nothing more than occasionally going over someone's knee to put her back on the straight and narrow. The evening after the last time you... err... 'came' shall we say? Well, she went upstairs, had a bath and put on the cutest racy, lacy babydoll set, walked into the living room all pink, perfect and made-up and sat between us.

Viv wanted to know what the pair of you did and knew that Debs wouldn't tell her." Ronnie laughed at the recollection, "As you can guess the pair of them went on for about twenty minutes. Eventually Debs looked Viv in the face and calmly announced how many times she'd made you come that night. Then, for reasons we can only guess at?" Ron looked at me with another sideways grin, "she made a fist that she stroked, smiled and pecked us both on the cheek and said goodnight. I looked at Viv, Viv looked at me and she stood up. She got to the door and turned and said 'Unless you want too of course?' I grinned, shook my head and indicated she should go ahead. I could hear the smacks, gasps and giggles four doors away."

"And was that because of me?"

"No," said Viv, "Debs was horny anyway, but when you play fem/dom games it's always nice to have the tiniest element of real life in it. You happened to be that bit of realism and something Debs could get a nice pink bottom about."

I felt my face flush and my pussy swell, OK I've had a few swats on my behind making love lots of times, but never been minded to spank or be spanked but the twin thought of grabbing the luscious little Debs and flopping her over my knee, or being grabbed and flopped over Viv's while she tanned my curvy behind made me forget Mum and Tim for a moment.

As if reading my mind Ronnie added, "so If you ever fancy branching out 'Vivwards', I can honestly say she'd bite your hand off, well not so much bite, but you get my drift."

I did, but I chuckled and said I'd have to think about it – Viv was beautiful and sensual, while Debs was gorgeous and sexy, a big difference.

After a quiet moment while I poured tea from the flask then opened the bag of sandwiches, she asked me how my love life was going. I had been on a couple of 'mates-dates' with one of the guys from the school, just so we didn't have to go to the cinema on our own.

After all I couldn't tell her that other than my regular sojourn to the Sapphic delights of Camden every four months or so, my recent sexual history up until a few months back was a joint but secret exhibitionist/voyeur masturbating session at Mum's place with my own brother, followed by joint masturbation ending with him wanking over my arse and tits at mine. The last thing I was going to admit was that I was now getting fantastically and regularly fucked by him.

Mum's place; suddenly the thought that the passing of Mum would mean our cosy little relationship and its secret would end also. Next thing I knew was me waking up and Ronnie's car pulling into one of the hundreds of empty spaces in the car park of the Manchester Royal Infirmary.

We walked to the accident and emergency department in silence but holding each other's hands. A nurse on reception pointed us towards a side room where we found Tim sat beside a big hospital bed with the quietly sleeping form of Mum lying comfortably and at peace.

"Miss Barnes?"

I turned,

"Yes," I said looking at the doctor in his white coat stood in the doorway.

"Your mother had a massive stroke. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do for her. I'm terribly sorry Miss Barnes but it's only the machines keeping your mother alive and, once you and your brother are ready we really need to think about switching them off."

"OK," I said after a pause, "oh, excuse me," I said, "I must introduce my aunt..."

"Actually," said Ronnie, "I'm Miss Lawrence, and actually I'm Mrs Barnes' eldest daughter..."

After an embarrassing silence only broken by the Doctor saying he'll have a nurse check in on us periodically, he left me and Ronnie to stand by the entrance to Mum's room.

"Sorry Darling," said Ronnie, "You Mum and your grandparents made me promise never to tell you, but," she sniffed with the first real emotion I'd ever seen from her, "well... with the passing of your Mum, you and Tim are all the real family I have left."

I put an arm around this beautiful woman I had admired from a far and hugged her like the sister I'd always wanted.

We went in to the room and embraced Tim, who explained just what the Doctor had told us. I sent him off to the machine in the foyer for a coffee and some fresh air so Ronnie and I could sit and have some time with Mum.

"She..." Ronnie started, "that is Mum had me when she was fifteen. She'd had an affair with her cousin – I never found our which one – assuming that is one of our second cousins. Anyway I was brought up by Grandma Lawrence, constantly reminded by that evil old cow that I wasn't the same as everyone else, and raised as if I was a family embarrassment, left at home during family gatherings and weddings and stuff and never allowed to meet extended family, hardly any presents at Christmas, proper Oliver Twist stuff, but while living with my grandmother.

As I grew up I wanted her... I wanted Mum to recognise me for who I was and show me some love. She'd been married to your Dad by then and you were about two. Grandpa Lawrence had died and he was the only one that loved me for who I was, and your Dad was so lovely I asked him if I could join your family." She had fat tears running down her face as she carried on, "he said he thought that would be lovely and that he'd ask Mum and Grandma, he didn't know you see, I suppose he thought I was some niece or granddaughter that stayed with her for some reason. That old cow was fucking strange after all.

Well, he did ask Mum and Grandma and they both went mad at him, I don't think he ever knew the reason. A week later I was sent to boarding school and never saw your dad again," Her bottom lip began to tremble, "I'm so sorry Lainey, I think I ruined your family..." her last word went into a whisper hush she broke down in tears, and I put my arms around my sister and hugged her.

That explained everything; why we went from a happy family one moment to Mum hating Dad with her every fibre. Ronnie was right – what I remember of Grandma Lawrence, she was the total opposite of Nanny Barnes. Cold, stern, aloof, almost Victorian in her ways, the idea of her darling teenage daughter bringing such shame on the family as to have a child out of wedlock by a relation at the time she should have been leaving school to move on to a career before settling down with Mr Right.

I could only guess at the terrible time Ronnie must have had as a young child, and seeing her mother loving me could only have served to tear her young heart in two. As I suspected, Dad hadn't slept around at all and probably went to his grave not knowing what he had done, in all innocence, to turn his loving wife and his strange mother in law so much against him in so little time.