Time Once More for Marilyn

"It's rather impressive, quite palatial." I commented.

"I like it. He left it to me when he died. I have been here ever since."

"And what about you?" I asked. "As Mrs. Wilman you obviously have a husband, any children?"

"Yes I had a husband. Richard. He died in a car crash three years ago."

"Oh I am sorry."

"No. Don't be. I am well over it now, and to tell the truth he was never much of a husband. I would have liked children, but in retrospect it was better this way. Richard would have been a terrible father. More interested in my money, than me."

"That I find hard to believe."

Marilyn's face lit up with a smile. "Thank you. What about you?"

I finished my coffee before I replied. Marilyn refilled my cup. "I was married, but her mother thought I would never amount to much, so put lots of pressure on Jane to dump me, which she eventually did. I have a daughter, Sarah, she lives with her mother. She comes to me every other weekend. I have been single ever since, thankfully."

"Oh that's good. A girl needs her father when she is growing up, but why thankfully?"

"My job involved a great deal of travel. Australia, India, the States and so on. It would have been difficult for a wife, being left alone to cope during the weeks when I was away."

She looked envious. "God! That is fantastic. Lucky you."

"Yes it was great, but it was hard work."

"What did you do?"

"I visited our fabric suppliers to make sure that their quality control met our standards."

"Are you still doing that?"

"No. One of the directors decided that he should do that job. I run the technical side, rejecting the fabric that is not up to standard."

"So you must know a lot about fabrics?"

"Some. My M.D. thinks I do, but I have to wing it a little at times."

She laughed. "And you have come here to look at my complaint. Are you sure you can decide what the problem is?"

I laughed with her. "Well, I'll give it a try."

We chatted for some time, catching up on what happened in our lives. It was such a good time. We fell quickly into an easy relationship, talking and laughing together. I tried to explain why I had stopped writing to her. Marilyn listened to my fumbling attempts to justify my actions with an amused smile on her face. Eventually I ground to a halt and blushed as she laughed delightedly. "Oh Dal. It happens. The probability was that we would never have met again so one or the other would have eventually stopped writing. It was you, but I was asking myself why I carried on when there was little chance of our ever being together again."

"But we have met again, haven't we?"

She nodded. "Yes. Now what would you call that? Serendipity? Happenstance? Coincidence?"

"All of those things I suppose, including business. I am here in a professional capacity so I suppose I should get on with my job."

Marilyn took me through to the Lounge. It was huge! About twenty five feet long and at least sixteen feet wide with huge windows front and back. On the one wall was an Inglenook fireplace with seats against the side walls either side of the iron cradle that would support the fire. She showed me the problem. The curtains were very full and wide. The fabric was a Jacquard weave in a medieval pattern, and in two of the widths could be seen a bar about four inches in depth where the dye was slightly darker than the surrounding. My heart sank. This was what we called a Pern Bar, where a loom operator had allowed a shuttle loaded with a pern containing yarn from a slightly different dye batch to be used. It was a manufacturing fault. The costs of taking down the drapes and re-making would be horrendous, yet that is what we faced, unless I could talk Marilyn into accepting compensation. I told her what it was, and said that ideally the two faulty widths should be replaced, if we still had the right batch. If we didn't then the whole lot should be replaced.

At first she was dumbfounded. "You can just look at them and know what is wrong. Mr. Moore had no idea. You obviously know your stuff." She went on to question my prognosis "You suggest they should be replaced?" She queried. "Is there another option?"

"Possibly. Would you accept the curtains as they are, but with compensation."

She thought about that. "More coffee I think." and led the way back to the breakfast room.

Once we were sat drinking a new brew of coffee she asked me what amount of compensation we would consider.

"You put me in a difficult position, Marilyn. As we have a connection going back years I really shouldn't negotiate with you. Mr. Moore should. I am likely to give away too much."

She smiled. "That sounds good to me. Give me an idea of what you would usually offer."

"About thirty percent of the trade price."

"That's not much!"

"Well Mr. Moore would be expected to contribute on top of that. He has a duty to check the fabric before cutting and make sure it is fit for the purpose."

She shook her head. "He will be difficult. I think he has financial problems. He asked me to put down a fifty percent deposit before he would take the work." Deposits were normal, but fifty percent was over the top.

"What if I were to offer forty percent?"

Marilyn sipped her coffee and thought. "I could accept that, but there is something else I would ask."

"Yes?"

"I would want your company's technical man to make frequent visits to check that the fabric is not wearing out too quickly."

I grinned. "And what sort of frequency would you be looking for?"

"At least once a month to start. Perhaps it would get more frequent after a while." I got up and went round to her side of the table, bent down and kissed her. Her arm came up and around my neck holding me there.

"I think that could be in order." I remarked breathlessly.

Marilyn was smiling broadly. "I wondered when you were going to kiss me. You're better at it than when you were eighteen. Perhaps another kiss to seal the deal?" This time her lips opened and her tongue flirted softly with mine. The arm circled my neck again and the other held onto my shoulder. Doing business this way was not in the manual, but it was very pleasant. We broke away. This time Marilyn was breathless. "Definitely better. What else are you good at?"

This was one of the longest calls I had ever made resolving a complaint. We went out to lunch at the local pub, 'The Elder'' where Marilyn was quite well known. I was introduced to the Landlord and others as a friend from years ago. They seemed to accept that I would be back as they took the time to make me feel at home. The meals were excellent and the local brew superb. I could not indulge too much as I was driving, but with the knowledge that I would be back I could look forward happily to sampling that brew again.

I drove away late that afternoon, sad to be leaving, yet happy anticipating that I would be back very soon and also the delights I was certain we would share.

CHAPTER FOUR

My report went to the M.D. who was happy with the outcome. We could lay off part of the compensation to the Mill that had woven the fabric, so the cost to us was not too horrendous. Marilyn even wrote to thank the company for our prompt attention to the problem and for settling it so easily. She indicated that as she would be re-furnishing the rest of the house, she would look first at our products to see if there was a suitable design and colour. After that letter the M.D. called me in to give me some brownie points.

"You must have really laid on the charm, Dal." I wasn't going to tell him anything. That it also gave him ammunition with the board was none of my business. I went down to Torquay to see Marilyn within a month of our meeting and on two other weekends staying at the Travel Inn as before. To say we got on well was an understatement. I suppose it was partly our history together all those years before and discovering that we had so much in common, ideas and values. We were getting closer all the time and without talking about it, getting closer to the moment we would share our bodies.

I would not be able to see her for six weeks as I was once again asked to go to Australia. It would appear that the owner of the printing works out there had refused point blank to see the Marketing Director again. Gerry the M.D. would not tell me why, although the guys down under were vociferous in their comments. It doesn't pay to act the high and mighty Pom in Oz, and that was exactly what Martin Clarke did. It was a week after I got back that I took off on the Friday straight from work and drove to Torquay.

I had booked into the Travel Inn again for three nights. I wondered why I did that, but my conscience dictated my action. Afterwards I reasoned that anything else would seem that I was taking too much for granted. Maybe I wasn't as Marilyn pulled a face when I told her where I was staying. "You keep doing that, Dalzeil. I'm beginning to think you don't like me."

"Marilyn, that is far from the truth. If I stayed here I may not resist temptation too well."

She had an impish expression as she said. "My bedroom door does have a lock." She hung the statement in the air for a moment. "But I seem to have lost the key." She smiled seductively over her shoulder as she led the way to the breakfast room..

We had arranged to go out for a meal so she invited me to have a look around the grounds whilst she got changed. I knew the house was big, but the grounds! Immediately outside the house was an extensive Patio with built up rose beds and a small swimming pool. From then on the ground sloped away for something like four hundred yards until the boundary, which was a river. In the next field I could see some half dozen horses, but in the main the pastures were for sheep and cattle. The nearest building had to have been a mile away and that looked like a Barn. As I stood and took in the view, all I could see was the patchwork of fields so typical of the West Country, scattered haphazardly over small hills and little valleys. Absolutely beautiful!

Marilyn came out to join me and she was absolutely beautiful as well. She wore the little black dress that suits all women, yet she gave the dress a quality that it would not display on any other woman. Her hair was that lustrous honey. She twirled. The skirt was cut to be full and as she spun her slim shapely legs brought hot blood to my head and to other parts of my body.

"Will I do?" She asked inviting a compliment.

"Marilyn you are so lovely." Her smile thanked me.

The restaurant we went to was a few miles away, but worth the visit. The area gets lots of holidaymakers in the summer, but this was one of those places that they never get to visit. You have to know the area well to know about the restaurant, but it's worth knowing. The food was superb! So much so that we both concentrated on eating, conversation was restricted to the moments between courses. At last replete but not over-indulged we made ourselves comfortable in the lounge and with a pot of coffee to top up our cups, we talked. Marilyn asked the killer question. "Did you like Lisa?"

I had to think. Did Marilyn know about the incident with Lisa? I assumed not, I was certain that Lisa wouldn't have said anything. So I answered casually. "She appeared a nice enough girl, but I didn't really get to know her. If you remember I was with you pretty well all of the time."

"Oh! I thought she got to know you quite well."

Deliberately I looked perplexed. "Well not so well." I emphasised the 'so'.

Marilyn wore a sinister smile. "Dalzeil. Lisa told me what she did for you." My face got very hot. Busted! Marilyn was giggling. "Oh Dal. If you could just see your face." She laughed. Then she continued. "Lisa told me off for leaving you in a terrible state. She said I was being completely unfair, getting you all worked up and not allowing you to...to, well you know."

"Yes I know."

"Was it painful?"

"More of an ache than a pain."

"I am sorry." She looked at me shyly. "Was it good with Lisa?"

"Yes. But it would have been even better if you had been the one doing it."

She caught her breath and had to take a sip of coffee to clear her throat. Without looking at me she murmured. "I didn't know that girls did that for their boyfriend's. But I think I would like to have done that for you." Now it was my turn to catch my breath. The smile came back to her face. "She said you looked good without your clothes. I had lots of regrets that I didn't see you like that."

"I could say the same thing."

She nodded. "I think I would have liked to have you see me naked." She reached out and took my hand. "Wouldn't life have been different if we had?"

"Yes. But I would probably not know how to take advantage."

"Oh God! Yes, isn't is silly that when we were that age we were so unconfident about sex." She laughed and the laugh became serious. "I didn't allow any other young man to be as intimate as that, you know."

I nodded. "I think I knew that."

"Did you?"

"Yes. It wasn't a logical thought, just a emotional feeling. It was special."

She smiled and nodded. "Yes it was." The waiter came at that point to enquire if we needed more coffee. I told him yes.

The conversation was very interesting. But the interruption had changed the mood and Marilyn started talking about what we could do tomorrow. Funnily enough it involved going into Torquay and looking around the shops.

I drove slowly back to Hatcham's Glebe. The headlights picked out the bends, as always the car seemed to run better at night, the radio was playing romantic music and Marilyn relaxed quietly, occasionally giving me directions. At her front door she asked if I would like to come in. I did, but had determined that tonight I would not stay. She made tea for me as I had mentioned that I had drunk enough coffee for one evening. She had offered a glass of wine, but I would be driving again shortly so I declined. She did have a glass of Red. We sat comfortably in the lounge and chatted.

There was no innuendo in our conversation. We both knew we were going to be lovers, but not tonight. The acceptance of that cleared the air of tremulous speculation. As I left we shared a deep kiss. Our lips pressed together and our tongues slipped and chased each other around the other's mouth. Our lips stuck together as if unwilling to part and I was the same, unwilling to leave but instinctively knowing that very soon we would join together. "Will you stay tomorrow night?" Marilyn asked.

"Yes, I would like to."

She nodded. "I want you to stay, I want to be naked for you, and you for me. I want to sleep naked in your arms."

"We will." I agreed. "Tomorrow. Shall we go out for Dinner? We could go to the 'Elder' if you want."

"Oh God no. They would know within minutes what we will be doing later. My face would give me away. No. I shall cook something for us."

"Sounds good." I replied.

She grinned. "You haven't tasted my cooking yet."

I laughed. "It can't be any worse than mine. Anyway the dessert will be a dish of unparalleled delight."

"Confident are we?"

"I am looking at the unparalleled delight as we stand here."

Contrived compliments are always a disaster. Even so Marilyn smiled. "You do know how to make a girl feel good but wait until you see me without any clothes. Then make up your mind."

"I am certain that the actuality will be better than my imagination." She laughed.

"Dalzeil. I am not the eighteen year old girl you knew. Thirty has long gone and I will be looking at the big four oh soon."

"And not looking a day over twenty five. Marilyn, I am standing in front of a real woman, slim, elegant and very attractive. I am getting to know this woman who is quite different to the young girl I knew when I was just eighteen. She was pretty but unformed as I was. But then I had different criteria. The woman you are now is so much more than the girl, and I am drawn to this woman as a man not as a boy."

I think those words pleased Marilyn and she blushed prettily. She covered her blushes saying. "Well let's see if you still like me when I have dragged you round the shops tomorrow."

CHAPTER FIVE

Men are supposed to hate shopping. I am ambivalent about the pastime. I went shopping for a purpose, to buy food or clothes usually. I know what I want and go straight to the shops that will have the goods I need. For me the pleasure in shopping was the success of getting exactly what I wanted. Women, it seems, shop for the pleasure of looking; perhaps this gives them a better understanding of the economics, and who has the best value for money. I did enjoy the day in Torquay shopping centre. Marilyn was good company at any time. There seemed no plan for this outing; she appeared to pick at random the shops she would visit.

I had made the mistake of asking her what she planned to buy and she looked askance at me. "Nothing really, but if something catches my eye then I may buy." Something did catch her eye. It was a dress. Men, as a rule cannot visualise a dress hanging on a rail with the vision it will be when worn by the woman, yet Marilyn had that happy knack of seeing a dress and knowing how it would look. There was one. It was creamy white, quite short with tight waist and a low cut neck. My initial reaction was that it would be quite daring, but Marilyn thought otherwise. She decided to try it on. I have to confess that she was right. She filled the bodice well, the swell of her breasts just peeking over the fabric with some cleavage to delight and entice. She looked gorgeous in it. She twirled for me.

"What do you think?"

"It's fantastic. You look fabulous, and your bum does not look big at all."

"I didn't ask that and you're not supposed to be looking at my bum, well not yet anyway. What about these?" She struck a pose with her hands on her hips emphasising her bust. I happily looked long and hard, looked away, and then with an exaggerated movement looked again.

"That was the second look, and it was definitely worth it."

"You like it then?" I moved closer and whispered.

"You have given me an erection."

"I have? Oh goody I will be able to look after that tonight. I will wear the dress and you can take it off me."

"If that is the case then I shall buy you the dress." I thought for a moment."Now what about some lingerie to go with it?" Her eyes sparkled.

"Oh yes, what colour would you like?"

"That needs no thought." I replied. "They have to be white or cream." She nodded.

"Ok. I'll go and make a selection. But you mustn't come with me. I want them to be a surprise."

Marilyn cooked a meal of Chicken breasts in Lemon sauce, asparagus and broccoli. I didn't compliment her out of manners, I thoroughly enjoyed the fare.

"You forget, my dad owned a hotel and I had to pull my weight. I helped the Chef and learned a little from him."

"If you can cook like that, I shall have to marry you."

"Yes please." Marilyn answered. And then started laughing at the expression on my face. I was flustered as I had said that flippantly. Her laugh alerted me to the fact that she had answered as flippantly as I had made the comment. So I laughed as well. Later I understood that it had introduced a topic that was probably on both our minds, a topic that needed some serious consideration.

We took the bottle of Chardonnay and the coffee into the lounge, where the fire cradle was heaped with logs that crackled and spat as they burned. We settled in the huge settee and Marilyn leaned into me, taking my arm and looping around her shoulders. She guided my hand to her breast and looked up.

"That's better. I have missed your hand on my breast."

"It's re-acquainting with a lovely memory, yet somehow better now than the memory."

She nodded. "Yes it is. Because this time we don't have to stop. This time you won't be going to bed with an ache. This time you will be inside me, lying on top of me and the thought of that is making me very wet." Our lips came together, opened and allowed our tongues to duel. My hand tightened on her breast and I felt her nipple harden. Without taking her lips away, Marilyn caught my hand and guided it inside the neckline of her dress and back to where she wanted it. Her bra was no obstacle and almost immediately my hand had possessed her breast and my thumb was rubbing languorously over her nipple. Her lips left mine as she gasped.