It's Practically What Uncles Are For
- a romantic story by WTSman

Uncle George has always spoiled Hannah since she was a little
girl. At 22, after a disastrous relationship, she finds herself a
long way from home, working as a nurse in London and living in
widowed Uncle George's luxury apartment. He has done so much for
her, but he is very rarely there. Much too rarely, Hannah thinks.
Other women are attracted to George - including a very young
rival who turns out to be deeply fascinating. And other people
find Hannah interesting too. Are there things uncles are not for?
______________________

Chapter 1

Hannah had been his special pet all her life. They didn't see
each other all that often - living on different continents, but
it was like he was always there for important things and he
always wrote her and encouraged her, never missing a birthday and
always sending her spot-on presents. She was a modest child but
whenever she protested that Uncle George spoiled her too much, he
would laugh and say "It's practically what uncles are for" and
that became a catch cry. 'Uncle' was actually a misnomer. He was
married to her mother's much younger cousin - an exceedingly
bright and pretty girl that had been swept off her feet by the
urbane European, married him after a whirl-wind romance and gone
to live with him in far away Norway, making a name for herself at
the local University and raising a family. So no, he wasn't
really an uncle. But he had always been 'Uncle George' in her
mind and she couldn't think of him in any other way.

He invited her to Europe after high school and treated her like a
daughter - she was only slightly older than his oldest. She was
going to spend Christmas with the family near Oslo, but to give
her a feel for more of Europe, they spent the week leading up to
Christmas in London shopping, sightseeing, and going to a show.

While they were there they had joked that after she had become a
nurse - she had applied to study nursing - she should come and
live nearby for a while. Learning Norwegian would be too
difficult, but working in London would be fine - there is always
a shortage of nurses and the Australian ones are popular. When
Beth, her oldest second cousin, had pointed out that the shortage
was partly because the salary of a newly trained nurse was too
low to cover the cost of living in the British capital, she had
joked that "Uncle George will just have to buy me an apartment,"
adding with a grin "It's practically what uncles are for." Beth
shook her head - rational to a fault, but Anne, her younger
sister, loved the idea and embellished on the day-dream. She and
Hannah even looked up apartments on the internet and found
fantastic places 'for a measly £2 million'.

It was not surprising that Hannah hit it off better with her 14
year old cousin than the older sister. Hannah could best be
described as a little girl in a woman's body. Not that she was in
any way lacking in her mental or emotional development, but her
nature was sweet and naive in the most positive sense of the
word. Her body was perfect - from her thick dark brown hair,
olive green eyes and pretty freckled face down past large firm
breasts, an hourglass figure, and long shapely legs, to her
small, sexy ballerina feet. But she was as yet uninterested in
sex - she was a virgin and her passions were more like that of an
early teen than of a budding university student. George, who had
never harboured sexual thoughts about her, just feasted on her
beauty and enjoyed her sweet company.

Hannah went home. While not a top student, her high school grades
were fine and she gained entry to the nursing school at the local
university which she enjoyed very much. She saw little of Uncle
George over the next couple of years. He was 'down under' once or
twice on business, but she was busy with her studies and social
life, so she neglected writing him. There was otherwise a lot to
tell. Her studies were going very well. She had also - finally -
found a serious boyfriend, entered the world of womanhood at the
unusually high age of nearly 21 and gone on to share a small
apartment with him. The fact is this would have pleased Uncle
George to know, but somehow she felt shy telling him; and not
just about the sex - that's fair enough. But in a strange way she
felt she would be admitting to 'cheating' on him if she told him
about having found a boyfriend. She knew it was irrational, but
it kept her from writing. He still kept up letters and cards and
e-mails, but they were getting rare and were missing their usual
sparkle. It took her a while to discover it, but when she did,
she worried. When she asked her mum if she knew why, the answer
shocked her. Her aunt was ill. As in very ill. She was undergoing
experimental treatment but was unlikely to pull through.

She didn't. On the same day that Hannah passed her finally exam
to become a registered nurse, her aunt died in far-off Norway
after 6 months of excruciating pain. And still there was a huge
bunch of deep red carnations - her favourite flower, a silver
necklace in a Viking design and a sweet card from George on the
occasion of her graduation two weeks later. She wept. Her
boyfriend, Greg, had no clue and made a stupid remark about
'making her cry on her graduation day' that hurt. In terms of him
marking the day, his present had been completely uninspired; he
got seriously and irritatingly drunk during the party - a BBQ in
her parent's garden - and she felt a pang of regret that she had
let him be her first.

That regret was intensified more and more over the next six
months. She had gotten an excellent job at a major hospital
continuing working in the neo-natal area that she loved. She got
better and better at it. Her boyfriend on the other hand showed
no inclination to finish his education and get on with life. When
sober he was a bore - almost the stereotypical Aussie male to
whom foreplay is a call of 'Oi, are you awake?' When intoxicated
- and that was more and more frequent - he was intolerable,
bordering on the abusive. He did none of the housework; so Hannah
was shopping, cooking, cleaning and washing, in addition to being
the breadwinner. Greg had been an occasional recreational drug
user - something Hannah only discovered late and disapproved of
completely. When he started using harder drugs, the most
unsavoury characters were coming to their apartment at all hours
and Hannah started fearing for her safety. Greg's habit
undermined their already fragile finances and he tried to
pressure her into stealing the drugs for him at the hospital.
That was when she gave the landlord notice that she was leaving
the joint rental agreement and fled home to her parents.

Her parents, with palpable relief, took her in. Her dad summoned
her older brothers - all hefty fellas who could look intimidating
if they tried, although it was completely contrary to their kind
and easygoing nature. They drove a Ute - as the Australians call
their beloved coupe utility pick-up trucks - over to the
apartment and stripped it of everything that was Hannah’s. "The
place had a funny echo when we left," her dad said when they came
back. The ex-boyfriend flew into a rage when he discovered it,
drove to Hannah's parents place and tried to kick in the security
door. The only thing that got him was a broken foot, a summons
for attempted criminal damage and attempted
breaking-and-entering, a small fine for driving an unregistered
vehicle and a huge fine and demerit points on his driver's
license for a DUI violation. It was not the first, so his license
got cancelled.


When the police had left, a shaken and miserable Hannah got on
with picking up the pieces of her life, starting with setting up
her old room at her parents' place. She powered up her trusted PC
and it auto-connected to the house WLAN, reinforcing her sense of
belonging. Not 15 minutes later an e-mail from Uncle George
popped up. It read:

  My dear Hannah,

  Nearly 4 years ago, when you spent Christmas with us in Norway,
  we joked about you coming over to work in London once you had
  done your nursing degree - provided I would buy an apartment
  you could live in. Well, I have!

  Before Helen's last illness we actually thought she was cured,
  and since we had just made a windfall from some of my company's
  intellectual rights, we realised an old dream of buying something
  in London. As you know, we were cruelly deceived about Helen's 
  health so we never got to use the apartment even once. It is 
  still empty, in fact, and none of your cousins are likely to need
  it for anything long term in the foreseeable future.

  So it's yours for the taking. I will furnish and equip it for you
  and you won't have to pay any rent in return for looking after it
  and letting us use it occasionally.

  Your mother tells me there is a young man in your life which
  delights me (I was starting to worry that all Australian males
  are gay!) and I realise that you may want to wait coming to
  London until he has finished his degree, but the apartment is
  plenty big for both of you and he would obviously be welcome.

  Let me know what you think.

  Your affectionate

  Uncle George

When her mother came into her room half an hour later, Hannah was
still sitting at her desk staring at the screen, reading the
message again and again without really seeing it. Her mother came
over, put her hands on Hannah's shoulders and read the e-mail
too. Hannah's family were completely unreligious, but her mother
remembered something her otherwise stern Presbyterian grandfather
had once said and she quoted it to Hannah: 'When God closes a
door, somewhere he opens a window.'

Hannah cried and cried and cried, her mother just holding her
until the storm blew over. "He always, always knows what I need
exactly when I need it," Hannah sniffled. "And he always thinks
of me, no matter what hell he is living in himself. He sent me
flowers and the necklace" - she pointed to the gorgeous and
intricate silver necklace that had hardly left the valley between
her luscious breasts since she got it - "and the sweetest card
the same week he buried Auntie Helen - and I never even told him
about Greg." She wept again.

"Forget about Greg," her mother said and sat down next to Hannah.
"He is not worth crying about - I hope...?"

The unspoken part of the question hung in the air and Hannah got
it. "Oh no, don't worry about that. I am not a complete idiot. He
has never been in me without a condom. At first, because I wasn't
on the pill and didn't want to get pregnant, but when I
discovered his habits, I knew you could get worse things than a
baby from an IV drug user."

Her mother sighed with relief. "What are you going to do?" she
asked.

"I don't know," Hannah said. "I can't stand the idea of risking
running into Greg again. What do you think I should do?"

"Simple," said her mother. "Take up George's offer. Find a job in
London." She got up. "I'll make a cup of tea."

When her mother came back with the mugs Hannah was busy on the PC
having located web-pages for several nursing recruitment agencies
in London. Her mother helped her with the checklists and, two
hours and several cups of tea later, Hannah had sent applications
and resumes to three of them. Exhausted but calm she got ready
for bed. Her mother tucked her in like she was a little girl and,
for the first time in a long, long time, she felt safe.


The next day she told her supervisor that her private life had
collapsed and that she needed to get away - a long way away.
"What do you have in mind?" the older woman asked. She adored
Hannah and would rather she stay, but she was smart enough to
know that she would be fighting a lost cause. 'Better to help the
girl,' she thought, 'and I might get her back.'

"London," Hannah replied. "I was thinking of doing a year or so
at a London hospital - it would be a good experience."

"It would. You could learn a lot, but you realize it is pretty
darn expensive living over there?" the supervisor said.

"Yeah, except I don't have to worry about that. My uncle has an
apartment there I can use," Hannah replied.

"Sounds fantastic," the supervisor said. "Go for it girl and come
back to us older and wiser. I will be happy to provide references
for you and I can guarantee you there will be a job for you when
you return." They hugged and Hannah went back to her tiny, sick
babies.


Things moved quickly. Two of the three agencies replied within 24
hours and the third the day after. They all had interesting
offers, Hannah’s speciality being a god-send. Having dual
citizenship through her father cut a lot of the red tape and only
two weeks after the initial contact, Hannah was negotiating a
post at a neonatal intensive care unit at a major London hospital
- her supervisor's glowing reference certainly hadn't hurt.

The deal was finalized and suddenly things were moving really
fast. Initially she had just sent George a brief message reading:


  Dear George.

  You are such a sweetie! The young man in question is no longer
  in my life and I am seriously looking into taking up your offer.

  Hannah xxx

Uncle George's reply had echoes of his former outrageously funny
letters with passages like:

  ...at least the chap is spared the ordeal of being scrutinised by
  me to determine if he is worthy of my favourite niece’s affections;
  an investigation that inevitably comes up negative...

And more in the same vein. Hannah was laughing out loud. Her
mother, summoned by the welcome sound, read the letter and
laughed too. Quietly, and not for the first time, she blessed her
late cousin’s partner for being such a rock for her daughter. 'If
only he'd been younger,' she thought, but dismissed the idea.


Now that Hannah suddenly had a job, a flight number and a ticket
- an open-return valid for a year, she had something specific to
tell him.

  Dear George,

  I've been and gone and done it! I am starting as a Neonatal ICU
  Nurse on October 1st and will come to London about a week before,
  arriving on flight QF1 in Heathrow on Saturday, September 25th
  at 7.00 (AM - ugh!).

  I'll find a hotel for the first week and hope we can meet up and
  work things out around the apartment during that week. (Where is
  it, by the way? I need to tell my new employer my address.)

  Hannah xxx

His reply came so promptly that he must have been on the computer
at a strange hour - not a good sign, but the letter was nice.

  My dear Hannah.

  I'm delighted to hear that. Don't worry about a hotel; we'll be
  there in the airport and take it from there.

  Much love

  Uncle George

She wondered briefly who 'we' were. Surely Beth and Anne couldn't
be there as they would be busy with term start on their
respective tertiary educations, but she hoped that Colin - their
little brother - would. Hannah loved Colin; she called him 'my
poster boy' and he was indeed a very pretty kid, full of life and
very, very fond of his Australian cousin. She noted that George
had forgotten to put in the address. But before she could write
again and ask him, another e-mail ticked in with that information
- and a hilariously funny comment about 'demented uncles'. When
she looked up the address on Google Maps, she gasped. It was one
of the converted wharfs right near Tower Bridge on Shad Thames.
She couldn't believe she would be living there.

Two nights before she was going to fly, the police knocked on the
door. Greg had been arrested for a serious drug offence - a
sizeable quantity of amphetamines had been found under his bed -
and since she was still, erroneously, listed on the lease of the
apartment, they wanted to find out what role if any she played in
his criminal activities. Hannah was numb with fear, but luckily
her father was home. Together they explained that Hannah had left
Greg over drug use, but that she knew nothing about drug dealing
or she would have turned him in herself. Her father reminded the
police about the altercation when Hannah had fled. The police
officer, who obviously knew nothing about it, checked up on that
information and everything was confirmed.

The next day Hannah was asked to make a statutory declaration,
but was otherwise allowed to fly. "He sounds like a prize jerk,"
the blunt but friendly officer said. "And a good riddance. Don't
worry. He won't be wrecking anyone else's life for quite a
while." Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. The following day her
parents took her to the airport and she embarked on the 24 hour
journey to London and a new life.


Chapter 2

Hannah arrived if not exhausted then very, very tired despite the
best efforts of Qantas and their staff. But immigration
formalities were easy and her monster suitcase did eventually
show up just when she thought she had to go and report it
missing. As she exited the restricted area, her heart was beating
fast - she was more excited about seeing Uncle George again than
she had thought - and she was wondering who 'we' covered. She got
an answer to that first, spotting Colin. At 12, he was more than
ever a small male version of his mother and her heart ached at
the thought that he was now motherless. She looked up and saw
George - and once more her heart went through a wringer. He had
always been if not fat then thick-set and merry. He looked lean
and drawn and must have lost at least 3 stone. But his grey-blue
eyes were the same. They were looking straight into hers and she
felt lost. She left her suitcase and trolley right there and flew
into his arms.

The tall lean black-haired woman with the narrow, curiously
attractive face was observing the scene. She noted how George's
embrace of the pretty Australian girl seemed to cause her oldest
daughter - a few weeks from 13 - almost physical pain. 'Oh my,'
she thought, 'Catherine's affection for George runs deeper than I
realised.' A moment later she saw a similar reaction in her
younger daughter when Hannah embraced Colin. 'Fiona is not keen
on competition either, but she at least only looks peeved - not
pained.'

Introductions were made. "Hannah, this is Joanna," George said.
"She and her then boyfriend, now husband Dave knew Helen very
well when she was on sabbatical in Oxford. They have visited us
in Norway and we have kept in touch over the years whenever we
were in London. We are staying with Joanna and Dave and the kids
until the apartment is set up."

"That is really sweet of you. Thank you," Hannah said, smiling to
Joanna.

Joanna nodded, momentarily distracted by a mutinous look on her
elder daughter's face. "I'm glad to meet you and happy to be able
to help. George has told us so much about you," she said. That
statement was met with a positively murderous glance from
Catherine.

George noted it too and hastened on with introductions. "Meet
Liam, Fiona and Catherine. Liam and Fiona fight over Colin's
attention whenever we're here. And Catherine is my closest and
dearest friend in all of England. Aren't you sweetheart?" he
asked and pulled the girl close to kiss her - and not in an
avuncular way either. Catherine blushed scarlet, her heart was
beating fast and she felt warmth at the pit of her stomach.

Hannah, who had also noted Catherine's very obvious emotional
turmoil, wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I'm so glad he has
you," she said. Then she took Catherine by the hand and started
walking towards the exit where the impatient troika of Colin,
Liam and Fiona had run to and were already waiting. "You and I
must work out how we get him to start eating again," she said in
a conspiratorial voice. Catherine looked up sharply, made a
complete mental U-turn and decided she loved this Australian
girl. She launched into a long rambling monologue about how
worried she was for George that lasted all the way to the car.

George and Joanna made up the rear - with the huge suitcase and a
trolley loaded with 'hand luggage', duty free bags and so on.
"You handled that well," Joanna said to George. "And so did she.
Turning herself from Catherine's deadliest enemy into her best
friend in two sentences is a miracle. What a honey!"

"Yes," said George - with a somewhat distracted tone of voice.
"She is lovely, isn't she? I'd forgotten quite how lovely. And
the last couple of years she has matured a lot..." He trailed
off, lost in some inner thoughts.

Joanna did some thinking too. She loved George and always had.
Not in a sexual way, or indeed in any way that could threaten her
marriage to Dave, but like an older brother perhaps. She wanted
him to be happy. She knew George's daughters had been urging him
to date; Helen had been dead for nearly 10 months now and given
the nature of the disease that killed her, there could have been
no sex for at least twice that time if not longer.

But he hadn't dated. She had herself invited eligible singles
over the last couple of times George and Colin had visited -
something that happened quite frequently for business reasons -
and one of her divorced friends in particular had been completely
taken by the handsome and distinguished looking Norwegian
businessman with the cute son, but it had come to nothing. George
was friendly, amusing, urbane - and completely uninterested.
'Well, maybe he is just waiting for the right woman,' Joanna
thought. 'And maybe she just arrived.'


The car George had hired was a 'people mover' - very practical
for a party of 7 (or 8 with Dave), and even more so for the
shopping expeditions planned for the coming days to furnish and
equip the apartment. Most of the furniture had already been
ordered - in fact Dave was at the apartment to receive it, but
George wanted Hannah to select her own bedroom furniture, and
they had to buy everything, as in everything, in fittings, lamps,
kitchen gear, bedding and towels and so on.

"We'll head to the apartment right away and get an overview,"
George said to Hannah. "If Colin, Liam and Fiona can entertain
themselves then Dave and I can set up the furniture while you,
Joanna and Catherine make the shopping lists. Afterwards the four
of us will head out to buy as much of it as possible while Dave
takes the younger kids to a park or something."

Joanna nodded assent and Catherine beamed at being included in
the adult party.

Hannah was not so sure. "I wanna sleep," she said in a
little-girl voice - eliciting giggles from all the children,
including Catherine.

"Yes," George said sweetly. "Tonight."

"It's tonight NOW!" Hannah said in a mock whine that none of the
kids could have bettered; making Colin, Liam and Fiona laugh out
loud while Catherine looked concerned. Perhaps her new best
friend really was very sleepy?

"Yes, in Australia, but you're in England now so I will be a
Gruesome Uncle and keep you awake until tonight here!" George
mocked her.

Hannah pouted - Fiona couldn't have done it better. She managed
to stay awake for the drive though and when they parked in a
parking house in a side-street near Shad Thames she was wide
awake, keen to see the apartment. She was not disappointed - it
was nothing short of fantastic with sweeping river views
including Tower Bridge from a long balcony. It had a large
kitchen/dining/entertainment area, three bedrooms - one with
river views and an en-suite bathroom - and another very big
bathroom with laundry facilities. A spacious entrance - a small
hall, actually - rounded it off.

Hannah nearly forgot to breathe. "Do you think you can live
here?" George asked. Hannah could only nod.

A cheerful blond Englishman, so very obviously the kids' father,
was in the process of unwrapping a lot of furniture in the main
room. He looked every bit the respected but popular school master
he was, and he made Hannah feel at ease at once. "You must be
Hannah. I'm delighted to meet you, and listen - if you can't
stand this place then I just might consider swapping with you."

"You wish!" his wife said, but she too was astonished by the
place and took it in much in the same way as Hannah. It was
almost a crime it had been empty for so long. The kids were
unimpressed, as only kids can be. Until they spotted a boat on
the river - now that was cool.

While the women wrote endless lists, Dave and George - helped, or
rather hindered, by the smaller fry - got the living area set up,
starting with a huge modern carpet, then a sofa group of soft
black leather and then a number of low and high book shelves. A
gigantic television and home cinema sound system went in next and
when a game console was dragged out of a box, the kids took
interest. Having the kids entertained, Dave and George moved on
to the larger of the ordinary bedrooms, setting up two single
beds, a dresser and a few other items. This was to be George's
and Colin's bedroom when they were visiting. "You should have the
one with the river view," Hannah protested when she discovered
it.

"Rubbish," George replied. "I'm very rarely here. You will be
living here and should have that one."

"You're spoiling me," she said - but in a tone of voice that
clearly indicated that she had surrendered.

"It's practically what uncles are for," George replied and they
both laughed.

The third bedroom would be used as a study and equipped as a
fully functional office. Setting up furniture and writing master
shopping lists were completed at roughly the same time. Pizzas
had been collected from the superb pizzeria in Shad Thames and
they sat down for a bite. George ate very little. Joanna knew
that the last nearly two years had taken their toll on him.
Loosing some weight was not a bad thing, he had always been
chubby, but since Helen's last illness he had gotten thinner and
thinner. She had not missed the split second of appalled shock in
Hannah's face in the airport - before she locked in on George's
eyes and flew into his arms. The girl was a nurse too. Joanna
decided she would talk to Hannah about it as soon as she got a
chance.

George, Hannah, Joanna and Catherine drove off to get started
with the many additional purchases for the apartment. They were
going to get the bulk of the stuff in one large shop that had
virtually everything, including the furniture for Hannah's room.
Or at least they had furniture on display; the actual wares had
to be collected from a warehouse a fair way away. They decide to
split up; George and Catherine driving out to get the furniture
and a large lamp while Hannah and Joanna would fill two monster
trolleys with other stuff and await the return of the car. There
had been a slightly awkward moment over choosing a bed. Hannah
had found a single bed, but George had said "Get a double."

"But I'm single," Hannah protested. George knew the thing with
Greg was over.

"You may not stay single forever," Joanna said quietly. "Besides,
an apartment like that really needs a proper double-bed."

Hannah had eventually agreed and settled on a gorgeous king-sized
waterbed. Catherine's facial expression was strange once more.


As George and Catherine were driving out to the warehouse,
Catherine looked at George and finally spoke what was on her
mind. "Are you going to marry her?"

George, who had been busy working his way through the dense
traffic, looked at Catherine startled. "What do you mean? Marry
whom?"

"Hannah," Catherine said. "Are you going to marry her?"

"Why do you ask that?" George said.

"Because I've heard Mum and Dad talk about you. They thought that
you needed a new wife," Catherine said, looking away. "I wanted
that to be me, only Mum told me it would have to wait a long
time."

George was shocked. "What to you mean? What did she say?" he
asked.

"She didn't say that exactly. She doesn't know. But when I got my
period and Mum told me what that was about; she said that I can't
do that with anyone before I'm 16 and that's not for another 3
years," Catherine said. "And a bit," she added very quietly -
staring straight out the windscreen. "And you may not want to
wait that long," she said only slightly louder.

George's mind was in overload. He was used to children liking him
- girl-children especially, but he had no sexual attraction to
children at all; he found the notion both vile and completely
incomprehensible. No child had ever been in any danger in his
presence and they never would be. That a pre-teen girl should
fall in love with him in a much too adult way was outside his
experience and completely out of the blue. Or nearly; he had
gotten a first hint in the airport, and he was at a loss as to
what to do. This was a child he absolutely adored - and had since
she was tiny - which didn't make it any easier.

It was imperative that he handled this well. No matter what he
did or said, it would hurt her. The task at hand was to ensure
she wasn't crushed. They were at an intersection, waiting for a
green light. George turned in his seat, reached out and gently
turned Catherine's face towards him, his hand almost caressing
her cheek and chin. She wasn't looking at him. "Catherine, look
at me," he said gently. Slowly, she complied. Her eyes showed at
mixture of fear and embarrassment - and deep, deep sorrow.

"Catherine," he repeated. "I am flattered. And I tell you this:
had you been 10 years older then I would marry you. People would
not like that - but I wouldn't care. But you're only 13 next
month and it cannot happen."

She nodded, looking if possible even more miserable. "I guess..."
She trailed off

"So we'll just have to go on loving each other the way we always
have," he said.

It was her turn to look startled. "Do you love me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," George replied - in complete accordance with
the truth. "I always have and I always will. Just not the way a
husband loves a wife."

Tears were forming in Catherine's eyes. "I loved you when Colin's
mother was still alive," he added. "I love you now. I may or may
not ever marry again, but even if I do, I will still love you. Do
you understand that?" She nodded.

An angry hoot of a car-horn told George that the lights had
finally changed and they drove on towards the warehouse.

"But will you marry her?" Catherine asked again a little later.

"I don't know. She may not want to marry me anyway - I'm much too
old for her. And she has just broken up with a boyfriend," he
said - not even realising that he was airing his innermost
thoughts to a child. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I think she loves you. And I think she is very nice. And
if I can't have you then it would be OK if you married her,"
Catherine said - feeling very noble and grown-up.

George thought she was too. He wisely abstained from saying so.


They got the furniture and returned to the apartment. Dave came
down to help carrying things up. The help was welcome, but Dave
being there surprised George. "What happened to going to the
park?" he asked.

"Ha!" Dave replied. "The kids decided it was too cold and looked
liked it was going to rain."

"But it is a nice sunny day; one of the warmest September days I
have ever experienced in London!" George protested.

"Yes," Dave said, "but someone set up a game console on a giant
TV-screen, didn't he?"

"I'm sorry," George started but Dave cut him off.

"Don't be," he laughed. "We're having great fun. I'm the reigning
local champion in Wii Baseball..."

They got the last pieces carried up with some difficulty. "Do you
want a cold drink before you head out again?" Dave asked.

"Nah, I'd better get going. Hannah and Joanna must be nearly
done. I gotta come and rescue them - and pay! I'll be back as
quickly as possible to help with the bed; that will take some
time," George said. He looked at Catherine who was eagerly
following the activities of the TV screen "Do you want to stay
here or are you coming out to get your mum and Hannah?" George
asked.

Catherine just looked at him like he had asked the most stupid
question in the world and grabbed her jacket. "OK," George said
defeated.

Catherine's look was not lost on her dad. Joanna had briefly told
him about the airport episode. 'Puppy love is never easy,' Dave
thought. He had on more than one occasion become aware that a
student had fallen for him - it could be very difficult to
handle. 'No use telling her that the notion is absurd. I hope
she'll get over it.'


Chapter 3

Back at the department store, Joanna and Hannah had managed to
find most of what was on the lists. The only things missing were
kitchen machinery. Joanna wanted George to be there for that; she
knew he was wealthy and used to getting the best of the best -
the apartment, for instance, must have cost millions - but she
had no idea what level of kitchen aids he wanted. Besides, Hannah
was at dropping point with fatigue. Joanna called a coffee break
in the store cafe and, over gigantic cappuccinos that seemed to
revive the young Australian considerably, they finally got to
talk. "I don't like that he has lost so much weight," Joanna said
without any preamble, "and neither do you. I saw your brief shock
in the airport."

"Yes," Hannah agreed. "It seems excessive. I guess it all has to
do with Helen. He's forgotten to look after himself. His letters
also lost their usual sparkle - only I was too preoccupied to
notice and never gave him anything back," she added bitterly.

By gentle prodding, Joanna got her to tell the whole story. She
even admitted to not telling George about meeting Greg because
she felt it was like cheating. "I know that sounds absurd, but
when I was a little girl I wanted to be married to him!"

"Not as absurd as you think," Joanna said. "George has that
effect on some very young girls. I know Catherine is completely
taken by him too."

Hannah smiled. "Yes, I worked that out in the airport. I could
totally understand what was going on in her heart. It is not
easy. But at least she is safe. He loves her and he will never
hurt her."

"I know that," Joanna said. "He is no paedophile. It's not him
that loves little girls in inappropriate ways - it's the little
girls that love him. And they get over it."

"You know, I'm not so sure about that!" Hannah admitted - much to
her own surprise. She had only known this woman for, what, 6-7
hours or so. And she was now telling her things she hadn't even
told her mother. "Not sure at all."

"Well, you should get a chance to find out over the next year,"
Joanna said. "Don't rush into anything. People make mistakes if
they enter a new relationship too soon after one breaks up." The
advice was sound. And it was not only for the young nurse's sake;
if Hannah did rush into George's arms on the rebound and then
found out it was a mistake, it would crush him too.

She didn't say that of course, but somehow Hannah was thinking
along similar lines. "Well, that cuts both ways. George is
recovering from something far more serious than I am."

Before Joanna could respond to that, her cell phone rang. It was
George; he and Catherine had arrived at the shop and wanted to
know where to meet them. "At kitchen appliances on the 3rd
floor," Joanna replied. "Expect to be bankrupted!" she added
cheerfully.

George chuckled and ended the call. A few minutes later they met
up; George and Catherine had brought an extra trolley. Joanna's
initial hunch had been right - the selection process had the
Oscar Wilde touch. 'I have the simplest of tastes - I am always
satisfied with the best' was George's motto too, so they ended up
with a seriously wonderful collection of kitchen appliances. "I
would have no idea how to use that damned thing," Hannah laughed
when a very advanced piece of machinery went into the trolley.

"Oh, I'll come and teach you," Joanna said wistfully. "I've
always wanted one of those."

George's and Hannah's eyes met. They exchanged a significant
glance. Catherine spotted it and after a second smiled knowingly
too. "Help me distract your mother for a tic," George whispered
and Catherine, quick on the uptake, dragged him and her mother
over to look at something while Hannah put an identical machine
in another trolley.

With three full trolleys Joanna didn't discover the plot, but
when they got back Dave did. He was loudly complaining about 'too
much guff' when they carried the haul up to the apartment. "Oh,
you're such a cave-man Dave," his wife said. "You'd be fine with
a heavy club and a roasting spit. Some of us like a more refined
approach to cooking."

"That may be," he retorted. "But I bet you don't even know what
you've bought!"

"We do too!" she replied. "It's just you who can't tell one thing
from another."

"You're not wrong there," he said sarcastically. "To my
uninstructed cave-man eyes, these two boxes look identical!"

Joanna stopped dead in her tracks, staring at her co-shoppers.
Hannah and Catherine avoided her eyes but giggled. George met her
gaze calmly with a tiny smile on his lips.

Joanna blinked first. "Oh George, you shouldn't have!" she
exclaimed.

"What? Miss a chance like that?" he asked. "It is easier to find
a present for the proverbial middle-aged gold fish that has
everything than finding one for you. You expressed a wish - well,
you got it. Hannah, Colin and I would like to thank you for all
your help."

A defeated but happy Joanna supervised the unpacking of the
kitchen stuff.

Dave's crowing rights were not over. "Did you buy a funnel and a
pint-measure jug?" he asked - much too innocently - coming back
to the kitchen a little while later.

When met with blank faces, he continued "I understand why a
subtropical girl might want a nice warm waterbed to get through a
cold London winter with said city's notoriously badly heated
dwellings, but the trick to a water bed is, well, water. A lot of
water. Except it doesn't come with the bed when you buy it. You
have to put it in to the mattress. Thus the funnel..."

"OK, OK, OK," George said. "I get you. A garden hose would have
been a good idea. We might get one tomorrow if we can find an
open garden centre."

"Sure," Dave chuckled, "but then there will be no bed tonight..."
- and he went back to Hannah's room to assemble more furniture.

"Sorry about that," George said to no-one in particular.

"Oh, don't worry," Joanna said. "The bedding has to be washed
like all the other new stuff, so you have to sleep at our place
tonight anyway. Speaking of which, the first load of washing will
finish in a mo'. When that's in the drier, we head home. This
poor girl needs food and a bed and she needs it soon."


Hannah was in no position to argue. She, in fact, fell asleep in
the car while driving to Joanna and Dave's house. When she woke
up next morning in an unfamiliar but pleasant room (Catherine's,
to be precise) she had no recollection of getting there or
getting undressed and put to bed. Attempts at finding out how it
had happened were met with friendly vagueness. She had slept in
the same panties she had travelled in, but the tee-shirt was
different so someone had removed hers - in addition to her shoes,
socks, jeans, jumper, necklace - and bra - before tucking her in.
Not that it worried her, but she felt a slight regret not having
'been there', as it were, the first time George saw and felt her
boobs. If it was indeed him.

Well, it was, and George had gotten the mother of all boners from
the process. On arriving at the house, it had been obvious to
everyone that Hannah was out for the count. Demonstrating - to
the admiration of the smaller children, to the relief of the
adults and to both for Catherine - that he was physically strong
even though he had lost so much weight, he had picked up Hannah
and carried her upstairs to the room she was going to sleep in
and gotten her ready for bed.

'Christ, her body is sensational,' George thought. He hadn't said
anything about it though because Catherine was present there too,
'helping' him. She had, reluctantly, admired Hannah's body and
wondered if she would ever grow boobs like that. She had the tall
skinny build of her mother so she didn't think it likely. She had
also noted the bulge in George's trousers and - correctly -
divined the origin. That could have caused yet another confidence
crisis, but George - who in turn had noted where Catherine was
looking - saved the situation and indeed made her day by putting
his arm around her while they walked down to the kitchen for
supper.

Colin, to whom the mere idea of missing a meal was utterly
horrible, was concerned that Hannah wasn't getting any food and
said so. But Joanna was her usual practical self. "If she wakes
up hungry before we're up, she can make her way to the kitchen.
There are cereals out for you kids, and milk in the fridge. She
shan't starve."

And indeed, this is what Hannah did when she woke up. Colin,
Fiona and Liam where there eating cereals and watching morning TV
when Hannah joined them. And since she had no one but the kids to
ask, answers to her questions remained vague.


Life slowly returned to the house. Catherine, already enough of a
teenager to be able to sleep longer on days off, had slept with
her little sister to make room for the visitors. She got up
around the same time as George woke up in the guest room. She had
thought a lot about seeing Hannah's boobs last night - and
George's reaction to them. She decided to test if said reaction
was triggered only by specific large boobs, or if any boobs would
do the same.

Sure, she had very little compared to the Australian Goddess, but
boobs she had. They could not be mistaken. So when she heard the
door to the guest door creak, she darted out on the corridor
dressed only in panties and with the rehearsed excuse that she
needed clothes from her own room and 'had no idea there was
anyone about'.

So once more George got an eyeful. Very different boobs they
were, but boobs are boobs and men are men. His dick reacted
completely according to nature. And being in PJs rather than
jeans, the effect was impressive. Catherine was delighted and got
a much needed confidence boost. She forgot all about feigning
shock or delivering her excuse. She felt herself getting warm and
wet and in consequence just said "Good morning George!" before
sauntering past him to her room to retrieve the clothes.

George on his part found relieving his bladder somewhat difficult
for a while. OK, so she was no longer quite a child - although
she was still completely out of bounds of course. But he was not
otherwise disturbed by the episode; he had no difficulty working
out what the little display was all about. Neither had Joanna who
had seen it all from a flight of stairs up. 'Good for Catherine,'
she thought, 'if that will make her comfortable in her own skin.'


A remarkable number of shops are open on Sundays, so by the end
of the day the apartment was more or less ready for Hannah to
live in. They cooked a meal in her new kitchen for the first
time, ending up with divine coffee from the fancy piece of
Italian machinery that Hannah had only seen the likes of in
upmarket cafes. George and Colin took off for Oslo on a late
flight. Dave hade gone back earlier with the younger kids and
Joanna and Catherine prepared to walk up to London Bridge station
to get on a train home. They hugged Hannah and urged her to keep
in touch, and off they went.

Suddenly Hannah was alone. It was too early in the morning in
Australia to phone her mother and she felt slightly panicky.
'Take it easy girl,' she told herself. 'You'll be right.' She got
ready for bed - just panties as the waterbed would keep her warm.
She stood at the window for a while, admiring the fantastic view
from the apartment and feeling intensely privileged. George had
really out-done himself in spoiling her this time.

She got into the bed spending a few moments getting used to the
slight movement of the water. It felt fantastic, almost like a
caress. She couldn't sleep and she thought of George. Her hand
drifted into her panties - perhaps she could masturbate herself
to sleep. She only ever came from masturbating. Sex with Greg had
been nice in the beginning, but no more than that. Nice. He had
never made her come.

Early on, she had thought it was her own lack of experience that
kept her from coming, but now she was not so sure. He had been a
bad mistake. She collected a bit of moisture from her vagina -
just thinking about George had made her wet - and then teased out
her clit with two fingers in a slow circular motion. She reached
her climax and realized that she had cried out George's name as
she came. Just as she was coming down from her orgasm her cell
phone beeped to tell her that a text message had arrived. It was
from George.

  Dear Hannah, we're ready
  to board the flight. Hope
  you settle in. I shall be
  over in London next month
  I hope. Looking forward
  to seeing you! Much love
  George.

"Oh George," she said softly out in the empty room. "I so wish
you were here with me."


Chapter 4

Hannah spent the last days of September getting organized. She
got to know where the local shops were, she worked out the
easiest public transport to the hospital and she arranged for a
bank account, a UK SIM card for her cell phone and so on. She
even remembered to tell people about the new number. She had not
brought her computer over, only a backup disk. The PC was too
heavy, so it would cost more than it was worth to have it sent.
Besides George had promised there would be a PC in the apartment.
There was and it was nice (of course!), but when she tried to get
it working she had difficulties getting her stuff from her own
computer on it and she missed her Skype setup and some of her
net-handles.

Friday was the 1st of October and her first official day at work.
She reported herself to the personnel office and was taken up to
the ward to meet the duty matron and some of her new colleagues.
Hospitals wards are always busy; intensive care units especially
so and there can sometimes be very little time for social
niceties, but luckily Hannah knew that from her experience at
home and she was not put off by it. She made a point of seizing
every quiet moment to introduce herself and get a sense of the
way things were organised and how the hierarchy worked. It took
her a day or two to realise that there was not one but two
neonatal ICU wards. This was primarily for administrative
reasons, but also because smaller units are safer. The two wards
shared management and some senior specialised staff, but were
otherwise quite separate.

After a couple of days Hannah started to worry. She didn't like
the atmosphere at 'her' ward much; everyone seemed tense and
closed in and serious. It was serious work - working with
critically ill babies is quite possibly the hardest field in all
of medicine, but for precisely that reason a warm, collegial
atmosphere is imperative. With so much heart-ache, and let's face
it, quite a few of the patients have a very brief life, you need
to support one another. But that was not the case in 'Left Ward',
as it was internally known (for the simple reason that you turned
left from the main stairs to get to it), and Hannah, used to
getting to know her colleagues in a matter of days and used to
being liked - she had a sunny disposition and was quite frankly
pleasant to behold - felt she was out on deep water.

After a week she felt she knew no-one and while she recognized
good nursing and medical work, it was not a happy place to be.
What got to her most was the attitude towards the parents. In her
work back in Australia, it had always been the policy to give the
parents as much access to the babies as could be medically
justified and make them feel as included as at all possible. In
many sad cases, this was the only time they would ever get with a
much wanted child; Hannah felt that the staff owed them
compassion, sympathy and respect, but they got neither. The
nursing staff offered next to nothing, always looking like they
were checking over their shoulder for their superiors. And the
medical staff was just awful.

No-one more so than a Dr. Gregory Alexander Hamilton-Smythe. His
attitude to parents was condescending and unpleasant, leaving
them with the impression that they were a nuisance and their
offspring an inconvenience. To add insult to injury, he was a
sexist bastard with an overdeveloped sense of his own qualities.
He was around 30 and quite good looking in an arrogant public
school boy way, and in his mind, he was God's gift to women -
junior nurses in particular. He immediately hit on Hannah, making
all kinds of unwelcome innuendo. Of course it hadn't helped that,
after having introduced himself with his full name and titles, he
added "but I like my friends to call me Greg."

'No way! I will do no such thing,' a horrified Hannah thought to
herself, although she only offered a reserved "I don't think that
would be appropriate Dr. Hamilton-Smythe."

But the barrage went on. Hannah learnt that he was divorced (that
didn't surprise her), supposedly in a new relationship (that
did), and still he made hints and suggestions, using every
opportunity to stand close to Hannah and touch her. She hated it
and started swapping shifts to try to avoid being on duty at the
same time as him. Being available to take the less popular shifts
- and why not, she had no private life - was popular with the
other nurses, but it rarely got her more than a hesitant smile or
a hasty 'thank you'.

So when George - and Colin - made good the promise to come over
in late October, Hannah was not a happy camper and George sensed
it. She wasn't able to have very much time with them due to her
shifts, but she did manage to talk to George - who had fixed her
computer problems in minutes, by the way, and gently chided her
for not asking him before - and she admitted that a big London
hospital was possibly not quite so pleasant to work at as the
hospitals back home. In his usual gentle way he coaxed the story
out of her. "I know different places have different
work-cultures, but this ward gets to me. And what's worse, I
don't feel I learn anything," she finished.

"Have you tried talking to the medical staff about it?" George
asked. Hannah's look startled him. "Honey, did I say something
wrong?" he asked, all concerned.

Hannah apologized and listed Dr. Hamilton-Smythe's litany of
inequities. George smiled wryly. "I can't blame him for finding
you attractive. Any sane heterosexual male would - and putting
you in a nurse's uniform is probably just the icing on the cake,"
he grinned and Hannah - reluctantly - grinned back. "But he
should shut up with his innuendo when you are so obviously not
interested, and he should especially keep his grubby hands off
you. Tell him so, and if it doesn't help, tell his boss."

"Yeah," Hannah said. "I thought about that. The chief matron and
the professor are both very kind and professional, but I'm just a
junior nurse and I've haven't even been here a month yet. I don't
want to lose my job."

"Hannah, sweetheart!" George said. "There are other hospitals.
You still have your recommendation from home. If you say you
wanted to change because of sexual harassment then you should be
OK."

"I know," she sighed, "but this is supposed to be the best place
in London. I so want to learn more."

They had to end the conversation there - Hannah had a night shift
and she wouldn't be back until George and Colin had left. The
farewell hug turned into a tight embrace. Hannah couldn't let go.
"I miss you so," she said. "I so wish you lived here too."

His kiss was avuncular, but there was a deep longing in his voice
when he replied. "I wish that too sweetheart." Hannah ran off to
make it to work on time.


George was sufficiently worried that he called Joanna from Norway
the next evening. "That sounds pretty bad," Joanna said. "She is
not the kind of girl you get 'down' easily. I'll give her a ring
and ask her over for dinner."

"Thanks," George said, "I hoped you would."

"The only reason I haven't done it before is that I thought it
would give her a little time to settle in," Joanna said almost
defensively.

"Jo," George replied, using a nick-name reserved for only the
most intimate situations. "Stop apologising. You hardly know the
girl. You don't owe her anything."

"I know George, I know," Joanna said. "But I like her. Besides I
promised Helen I would look after you lot. That includes Hannah.
I know Helen loved her too."

George was silent for a while. When it had become obvious that
his wife's lifespan should be counted in days or perhaps even
hours, rather than months or weeks, he had called Joanna. She had
flown over at once and just exactly made it. Their farewell had
been the last time Helen was conscious. Joanna had stayed and was
with George and the kids when Helen died the following day. That
kind of bond doesn't break easily.


Hannah was happy with the invitation and if she suspected George
had a hand in it, it didn't worry her but rather made her
appreciate him even more - if that was possible. The kids were
over the moon seeing her again and looked up to her like a much
older sister. The evening was pleasant and Hannah was happier
than she had been in a long time. "Have you heard from George,"
Catherine asked when they got a moment together alone in her room
while her younger siblings were being put to bed.

"Not since he and Colin where here the other week," Hannah
replied. "And I didn't get to spend very much time with them
because I had to work."

"I know. And we had to go to school - lucky Colin; he had
holidays!" Catherine said. "But they did come to visit for my
birthday."

"He is looking a bit better, isn't he?" Hannah said, meaning
George, not Colin. She had noted that George had filled out a
bit. Just a little, but he didn't look sickly thin anymore.

"Yes!" Catherine replied happily, understanding her perfectly.
"And he seemed much happier." Then in a more sombre mood, she
added "Nell noted it too."

"Who is Nell?" Hannah asked quickly.

"One of Mum's friends," Catherine replied. "She is divorced and
very keen on George."

"And is George...?" Hannah started. She couldn't make herself
finish the question, but Catherine answered anyway.

"Oh no, I don't think so," Catherine said with satisfaction. "And
I told Mum off for inviting her over!"

Hannah suppressed a smile. Besides, this gave her something to
think about. She was somewhat confused about her emotions, but
before she could ask more about this 'Nell', Joanna called a
curfew on Catherine - it was a school night after all, and after
considerable protests, Catherine finally agreed. "Can I talk to
Hannah while I get ready for bed?" she asked.

"Sure," her mother said. "Just don't take too long." And turning
to Hannah, she said "I'll make us a cup of tea. Come down to the
kitchen when Catherine's in bed."

To Hannah's surprise, Catherine stripped down to her panties and
went hunting for a night gown. Hannah was completely taken with
the younger girl's developing beauty and couldn't drag her eyes
away. "Don't you want me to, you know, leave while you change?"
she finally asked.

Catherine smiled. "No, that's OK. I've seen you like this, so
it's only fair." Hannah must have looked like one big question
mark, so Catherine continued. "Your first night in London. You
were so out of it. I helped George put you to bed."

"Oh!" Hannah said a couple of times while that sank in. "George
saw me too?" she asked. She had suspected as much, but now it was
confirmed.

"Uh huh," Catherine said with a devious smile. "And he liked it!"

"As in?" Hannah asked, blushing profusely and feeling slightly
apprehensive about the answer.

"His trousers got very tight," Catherine said with a grin. "It
seems he likes boobs."

"Men do, you know," Hannah said neutrally. Her spectacular
specimens of human mammaries had caused many an erection since
they sprouted on her chest more or less overnight ten years ago.
And while she had never felt uncomfortable about that, if men
said or did anything about it then she had baulked for a long
time. Well, up until Greg. That George - of all men - should have
gotten an erection over her boobs made her feel immensely
pleased.

"So I'm told," Catherine replied lightly. "And our George is a
confirmed boob-man. I flashed him the next morning and he got
stiff once more!"

"You didn't!" Hannah said with an outraged laugh.

"Did too!" Catherine shot back. "Fancy these tiny boobs could
turn anyone on!" she said and cupped them with her hands.

"They are not tiny," Hannah said almost in a trance. "They are
gorgeous. No wonder he got hard, you naughty, sexy girl!"

Catherine felt good and warm being called 'sexy'. She moved
closer to the older girl and got a good-night kiss that wasn't
exactly sisterly.

Pulling herself away required all her strength of will, but
Hannah finally let go of Catherine - and only after her hands had
roamed over the younger girl's sweet bottom. She had to force
herself not to touch - or kiss! - Catherine's breasts. "I'd
better be off. Sweet dreams!" she finally managed to say.

Catherine put on the night gown. "You too," she said, light
headed and confused about the emotions she was experiencing. It
had been just as exciting to show her boobs to Hannah as to
George. Well almost. And the look in Hannah's eyes was just as
rewarding as George's. She could feel her crotch was getting wet.

Hannah could too and fled down to the kitchen. She and Joanna had
finished their first cup of tea when a bleary-eyed Dave joined
them. "I think I fell asleep before Liam did," he said, shrugging
his shoulders and rolling his neck like he had a crick in it.

"Poor darling," Joanna said, massaging him. "Have a cup of tea
and then take Hannah home. I don't want her to go on the train
alone this late."

Hannah started protesting that she was used to travelling at all
hours because of her night shifts, but Joanna overruled her.
"That's on the Tube and that's different. There are more cameras
than seats on the Tube."

Hannah surrendered and was driven home by Dave. "Catherine thinks
the world of you," he said. "Well, we all do, but especially
Catherine."

"I noted, and the feeling is mutual," Hannah replied. "I mean,
with all of you. But yes, I always wanted a little sister. With
three older brothers I had it good. I was spoiled rotten, but I
always missed having a sister."

"I can imagine," Dave said. "I was the only boy in a flock of
six. But at least one of my sisters was into football and such."

"Well, none of my brothers were into dolls, I tell you!" Hannah
laughed. They arrived at her house - or rather as close as you
could actually drive. "Thanks for taking me home - and thanks for
having me over. It felt like being part of a family," Hannah
said. She leaned over and kissed Dave.

"Anytime my dear," he said, kissing her back. "Anytime."

Back up in her bed, Hannah reviewed the evening. Dave and Joanna
felt like substitute parents, and she could well use that. And
she had been basking in the younger kids' attention. But
Catherine? Hannah didn't know what to think. For once it wasn't
George she was thinking of when she brought herself off. She
might have been feeling both confused and even vaguely guilty,
but the thundering orgasm that rolled over her sent her off to
blissful sleep in no time.


The confusion was not one-sided. "Mum," Catherine called as she
heard her mother passing her room on her way up to bed. "Can I
talk to you for a mo'?"

"Sure," Joanna said, came in and sat on the edge of her oldest
daughter's bed. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Mum, can girls, you know, like girls?" she asked - grateful that
the lights were so low her mother couldn't really see her; she
was sure she was getting red in her face.

Joanna knew better than to ask 'what do you mean?' and simply
said "Of course they can. Auntie Elizabeth is living with another
woman, isn't she?" Elizabeth was the football-interested sister
of Dave's and openly lesbian.

"Hm. Yeah, that's right. But what if, you know, you like both?
Can you do that?" Catherine wanted to know.

"That's actually the most common," her mother replied. "Most
people do to some extent. But at some stage you have to decide
what you like best and which kind you want to live your life
with. Or finding someone special makes you decide. You can't
really have one of each as your one true love, can you?"

"No, that's true," Catherine giggled - her embarrassment
completely gone. 'Mum is great!' she thought. 'It is so easy to
talk to her about these things.' She still had questions. "But, I
mean, what do you, they, you know, two women do?" she asked.

Joanna hesitated for only a moment. Sex Ed in schools tends to be
a little, well, technical. Her oldest daughter knew about sexual
intercourse in a strictly procreational context. All the other
aspects of human sexuality - all the fun bits, in fact, were left
out. "Kiss, cuddle, touch, lick - that kind of thing. There are
many ways of making someone else feel good," she replied.

"Lick?" her daughter asked. "Isn't that, you know, ick?" The
rhyme was not intentional, but they both giggled.

"Not a bit of it," her mother said. "You want to be clean anyway.
And believe me, that kind of thing can be fantastic."

"Do you and Dad, I mean..." Catherine trailed off, not sure she
really wanted to know.

It was Joanna's turn to be glad the light was low. "That is
private sweetheart. But your father and I do a lot of things
together that we both love doing. That is the key: What two
adults agree to do together in bed cannot be wrong."

"But it has to be adults, right?" Catherine asked.

"For most things, yes," her mother replied - aware that she might
be bending the law a little here, but unconcerned that her
daughter might experiment a bit with people she could trust not
to hurt her. The unspoken message seemed to come across all
right. Catherine sighed contentedly and rolled over. "Good night
sweetheart, sleep well," her mother said and kissed Catherine's
ear before going up to her own bed.

Joanna was still thinking about the conversation with her oldest
daughter when Dave came to bed. He was tired and in slight pain
from his neck, but two minutes after he had crawled into bed he
had forgotten all about that. Joanna's hand was fondling his
quickly stiffening dick while she whispered about Catherine's
questions in his ear - it felt like her tongue was almost licking
his ear drum. She mounted him and rode him fast and furiously to
a shattering, mutual orgasm in only a couple of minutes. "Thank
you love, I needed that!" she said when her breathing was
reasonably normal again.

"I could tell," her bemused husband said. "Happy to be of
assistance. Anytime! By the way, have we just made baby number
four?"

Joanna did a quick calculation. "Possibly. If not, there's always
tomorrow."

"I'd better look into that loft-conversion," Dave said, rolled
over and fell asleep.

One floor below, Joanna and Dave's vigorous activities had not
gone unnoticed. Catherine tickled that special spot between her
legs until she got the fantastic feeling. 'A pity one has to
choose,' she thought as she was drifting off to sleep. 'I would
like to have both Hannah and George.'


Chapter 5

Hannah's disagreements with 'Left Ward' in general and Dr.
Hamilton-Smythe in particular came to a head on Friday of that
same week. She was tending to one of her small charges - a tiny,
tiny boy - whose not-so-young parents were both present. On
Hannah's urging they kept an almost constant vigil. Hannah had
come to like them very much and the feeling was mutual. In fact,
they adored her. Unlike most of the rest of the staff, the doctor
in particular, this sweet and pretty Australian nurse had
instilled them with hope that their son had a chance not only of
survival but also of getting a good and normal life. Hope they
needed after a fifteen year horror story of late miscarriages,
still births and neonatal death. They did not need to be told of
the risks of severe physical and mental disabilities, but that
was essentially all they heard. Except from Hannah. Dr.
Hamilton-Smythe was once more outlining the risk of blindness
from the oxygen the baby had been given and at the same time
arrogantly running the hand over Hannah's back and playing with
her bra-strap. Hannah snapped. Swinging around and waving the
surgical scissors in close proximity to the doctor's crotch, she
exploded. "The threat to little Alexander's retinas is minimal;
the oxygen level was closely monitored. And I insist you keep
your hands off my body!"

Almost jumping backwards, Dr. Hamilton-Smythe was about to launch
into some angry retort when his pager sounded an emergency and he
retreated muttering threats under his breath. Hannah completed
the procedure and then told Alexander's mother it was OK to touch
him again. She looked at Hannah in gratitude but also feeling
worried. "Will you be in trouble?" she asked.

"I don't know," Hannah said - exhaustion clear in her voice.
"Quite possibly. But enough is enough."

"I say!" Alexander's father said. "And if anyone's going to be in
trouble it should not be you, but that sexist prick!"

Hannah excused herself and carried on with other tasks - she had
another 4 hours to go on her shift. Her professionalism meant
that her work remained first class, but she was worried that her
explosion would have consequences. So when the shift finally
ended, she requested an interview with the chief matron. Only,
the matron wasn't there; she was working from home on
administrative matters. Never being one to be shy, Hannah knocked
on the glass door to the professor's office. He was on the phone,
but looked up and waved her in. He motioned her to sit down while
he finished the call and then looked at Hannah. "Yes, Nurse
Westlock?" he inquired.

"Professor Rutherford," Hannah started. "I fear I have behaved in
an unprofessional way this morning."

"Yes," the professor said in a neutral voice. "That is what Dr.
Hamilton-Smythe tells me." Hannah's heart sank. The bastard had
gotten there first. "However," the old man continued, "that is
not the impression I got from Mr. Phillips." Hannah looked up.
Mr. Phillips was baby Alexander's father. And the professor's
tone of voice had changed. "Mr. and Mrs. Phillips think the world
of you. Besides caring for their tiny little boy so well, you
have given them real hope, they said." The professor paused for a
moment. "They could well need that," he added heavily.

Hannah didn't say anything, but there was a clear question in her
eyes. "Oh, I know them quite well. I went to school with Mr.
Phillips' father," the professor said. "Alistair Phillips is my
god-son. Besides, Mrs. Phillips' father is on the Hospital
Board."

All of a sudden Hannah felt a lot better. Perhaps she wouldn't
get sacked. "I still shouldn't have behaved the way I did," she
said. "That wasn't professional."

"According to Mr. Phillips, your reaction was perfectly
justified. He is a solicitor, you know, and he said - and I quote
verbatim," the professor said - checking a piece of paper over
his half-glasses, "yes, here it is 'If she wants to sue the prick
for sexual harassment then tell her my chambers will represent
her for free. I shan't take the case myself as I will want to
appear as a witness'. Quote-unquote."

Hannah looked stunned. "But still..." she started.

"Yes," the professor said. "I have to remind you that you are not
licensed to perform surgical procedures. That is for doctors
only. If anything needs to be done to Dr. Hamilton-Smythe's
crotch with a pair of surgical scissors then leave that to me."
He paused. "It might be a good thing too!"

The little jest was delivered in a crackling dry voice,
completely dead pan. Hannah, despite her worry and fatigue let up
a pearly girlish laugh. The professor, almost old enough to be
Hannah's grandfather, felt refreshed and rejuvenated in her
presence.

"That aside, the only other thing in Dr. Hamilton-Smythe's litany
of your sins that needs my attention was one of subordination,"
the professor said. The wording startled Hannah, but the
professor's tone of voice was still reassuring. He elaborated.
"With respect to oxygen treatment it seems you overruled his
decision and did 'something else'. Now, our consultant neonatal
ophthalmologist has just reported to me that baby Alexander's
retinas look fine and all his neurological data are perfectly
normal. So whatever this 'something else' was, it worked. Tell me
about it!"

Hesitant, Hannah started. "It's not like it's something I
invented, but back home we're mindful that many of the very
smallest we save end up blind or nearly blind, so a lot of work
has gone into preventing that." The professor was naturally
perfectly aware of this curse of the otherwise successful saving
of the lives of the very smallest premature babies. In fact, he
led an international research group on the matter. He grunted
encouragingly and Hannah continued. "Well, we were taught to
monitor the oxygen saturation very, very closely for the first
couple of days while the lungs are hormonally matured. Making
sure there is enough oxygen for the brain, but absolutely no
more. Keeping it at the minimal safe level is the key."

The professor nodded. "Sound advice. And you are all taught
that?"

"Yes," Hannah said. "Every nurse working in neonatal knows that."

"Very well," the professor said. "Back to Dr. Hamilton-Smythe, do
you wish to launch a formal sexual harassment complaint?"

Hannah hesitated. "Not really," she finally said. "If I could
just get him off my back somehow."

'As in off your bra-strap,' the professor thought to himself -
definitely not too old to appreciate Hannah's bodily perfection.
His answer was however completely professional and certainly
pleasing. "I think that can be arranged. I was on the 'phone to
the chief matron just now. We have agreed that you take a couple
of days off beginning now and start in 'Right Ward' in the day
shift on Monday at nine."

Professor Rutherford waited respectfully while the young nurse
finished crying with relief. The proffered handkerchief was used
and duly returned to him with a kiss that left him in deep
thoughts for a little while. He had only disdain for young
Hamilton-Smythe's unacceptable behaviour, but he certainly
understood the attraction.


Hannah, bubbly and light-hearted, left the hospital and went
home. She decided to call George at his office and got on to the
secretary who knew of Hannah, although she had never met her.
There was a standing order that Mr. Hamsun was always available
to Hannah. Since Mrs. Hamsun's death, Hannah was the only person
besides Mr. Hamsun's children covered by such an order and the
secretary knew that the young Australian woman was a nurse,
somehow related to Mr. Hamsun's late wife and installed in their
London apartment, so she had made a mental note that the young
woman must be very important to Mr. Hamsun. She sounded sweet,
the secretary thought. 'If only it comes to something!' she
mused. Vera Åserud was a motherly woman in her late fifties, had
been with George Hamsun for years and years and was as concerned
for George as Joanna and Catherine and George's daughters. "Miss
Westlock on line two," she said when George answered the phone.

"Hannah? Do you think anything is wrong Vera?" George asked - he
had been really worried for her after the last London visit.

"I don't think so Mr. Hamsun," came the reply. "On the contrary -
she sounds very, very happy. I'll put you through."

"Hannah, my love," George said when the connection clicked in.
"Is there a reason for your call - apart from brightening my
day?"

Hannah, always pleased with being referred to as George's 'love',
launched into a happy rambling account of the developments.
George was just as delighted with the outcome as Hannah and told
her so - and also urged her to call Joanna. Like Professor
Rutherford, George could feel a measure of male sympathy for Dr.
Hamilton-Smythe, although he obviously found the doctor's
behaviour abhorrent. He decided on a jocular approach which had
Hannah in stitches. Throwing all caution to the wind, he ended
with a teasing "He should keep his paws off your bra-strap. What
was he thinking! An accident might have happened. I know the poor
strap is working hard enough as it is!"

"Yes, I know you know - so Catherine informs me," Hannah replied
sweetly.

"Eh, what?" George spluttered, not expecting that answer.

"Catherine tells me you relieved said strap of the 'strain' last
month - and took obvious pleasure from it," Hannah said in a
voice that sent blood - a lot of blood - to George's groin just
from the memory.

George felt his face go warm and felt busted, but Hannah had even
more to add. "She found your reaction so fascinating that she
wanted to test it out the next day herself. She tells me that
worked too!"

George was now totally embarrassed. "I, eh, I..." he started.

"Relax George," Hannah said. "I don't blame you. Her boobs are
delicious. She flashed me too the other night and it was all I
could stop myself from touching them and kissing them and sucking
them into my mouth. You can, you know. They are just the right
size. You couldn't with mine, but I'd love for someone to try..."

"So, you're not - not - angry with me?" he croaked with a nervous
hesitation that she found adorable.

"About what? For caring for me and putting me to bed when I was
unconscious with fatigue? Not at all. For finding my body
attractive and having an involuntary reaction from it? Nope."
Hannah paused for just a second then added "But I would like to
be awake when you look at my breasts next time. Goodbye, Uncle
George. I love you, you know."

She hung up just seconds before she climaxed from rubbing her
clit through her panties. 'That was kinky,' she thought. 'I
wonder if George got excited too. There's more to phone sex than
I knew!'

George thought so too. There was a noticeable tent in his
business pants and he had an important meeting in just 10
minutes! He fled to his private toilet and relived himself. It
took less than ten strokes before he shot semen in all
directions. 'Wow. That call took at least 20 years off of my
age!' he thought, dabbed his face with cold water and returned to
the office to greet the visitors who ended up getting a very
favourable impression of an energetic, youthful and very
approachable potential business partner.


Hannah made herself some late lunch, had a shower and got dressed
in fresh clothes (and dry panties). Mid afternoon she decided to
give Joanna a ring as George had urged her too. That turned out
to be a very good idea; Joanna was delighted with the outcome and
laughed out loud when Hannah told her about the professor's
gentle jokes. "So, you're not in trouble, you're rid of the prick
and you get to start in the other ward?" Joanna summed up.

"Yes!" Hannah said happily. "And I got the weekend off too!"

"That's cheap compared to what a harassment case would cost them
in trouble and money, but it was sweet of him nevertheless,"
Joanna said. And then she added. "Hey, so you're not working this
weekend?"

"No," Joanna said. "I'm free to do what I like until Monday
morning."

"Got any plans?" Joanna asked.

"Not really - do you and Dave need a babysitter? I'd love to do
it," Hannah said.

"Well, sort of," Joanna said. "Listen, I'll tell you what it's
all about, and it is perfectly OK if you can't or won't, but
Fiona goes to ballet and there is this intense course down in
Brighton this weekend. We have promised to go a fair while ago as
it involves parents too. We have 'sold' Liam off to some friends
- the parents of his best playmate. But we were going to drag
Catherine along. Only she is not into ballet at all. She says she
will be bored to tears, and I'm sure that's true. But what can we
do? We've been having World War III over it for the last couple
of days..."

"Simple. She just comes and stays with me!" Hannah said
immediately. "We'll make a weekend of it - go to the movies, do a
bit of shopping, watch DVDs until early in the morning. It will
be fun!"

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to take your whole
weekend..." Joanna said - acting on the perverse notion that
convention dictates you must reject it when you're being offered
what you really want.

"Of course I'm sure. I'd love to have her over. I really love
her, you know," Hannah said.

"Yes, I know - and I know it is mutual. Catherine will love it
too," Joanna replied.

"She is a teen now and I'm sure it can be a drag having only
younger siblings," Hannah continued. "So she needs a break from
the small kids' agenda. Don't inquire too closely about the
ratings of the films we see," she added with an audible grin.

"No I shan't," Joanna replied lightly - and in a suddenly serious
voice she added "I shan't worry about what she sees, what she
wears - or doesn't wear, what she eats and drinks and when - or
where - she sleeps." The emphasis on the third last word could
not be missed.

Hannah swallowed hard. "I'll let Catherine decide all that," she
said. She felt the second pair of panties getting drenched.

"I know you will," Joanna replied in the same intense voice. And
back in her normal practical voice, she rounded the call off.
"Anyway, we head off early tomorrow morning and will be back late
afternoon on Sunday traffic permitting."

Hannah's reply was prompt. "In that case I suggest you bring her
over already this afternoon - then she won't have to get up early
tomorrow. And Catherine and I will cook an early dinner for all
six of us on Sunday. Deal?"

"Deal!" Joanna said and went to tell her delighted first-born
that she would not be spending a whole weekend looking at small
girls in pink tulle after all.


Chapter 6

If Hannah had been bubbly going home that afternoon, Catherine
was positively bouncy when she arrived at the apartment. She had
packed a weekend bag in minutes after her mother told her the
fabulous news. Truth be told, half the fun was Fiona's pout and
whine, but as Catherine so sweetly pointed out (much too sweetly
- she got a 'cease and desist' glare from her mother), the Ballet
in Brighton was her thing.

And so, less than an hour and a half after the phone call, Hannah
and Catherine were standing in doorway of the apartment, waving
to Joanna as she went down the stairs again. Hannah's hand was on
Catherine's shoulder. She led her inside and closed the door with
the other hand but somehow couldn't let go of Catherine and they
ended up walking around arm in arm, gossiping and making plans.

"I suggest pizza tonight," Hannah said, meeting vigorous approval
from Catherine. "And a stack of DVDs after that," she continued.
Catherine's kept nodding. "Tomorrow we have to shop for dinner
Sunday," Hannah added, "but I thought we could do a bit of
clothes shopping too."

Catherine's non-verbal approval got even more vigorous. This was
going to be a great weekend.

They went down Shad Thames hand in hand and ordered Pizzas.
Hannah was flirting blatantly with the male staff and Catherine,
tentatively, took her cue. Back in the apartment they devoured
the food with youthful appetite.

"Right, DVD time and a complete pig-out on snacks!" Hannah said
with relish.

"What are we going to watch?" Catherine asked.

"We're going to have a Chick Flick Fest!" Hannah replied, and
pointed to a large stack of DVDs on the table. "Have your pick."

Catherine looked through the pile of DVDs while Hannah found
snacks and drinks. There were several films she knew of but had
never seen - mainly because she had been deemed too young for
them. And there were a couple of Australian titles that she had
never heard of but they looked good. "This could take all night!"
she exclaimed.

"Not a problem," Hannah replied. "We have all night! But let's
get into our night stuff first."

"This early?" Catherine asked - feeling slightly giddy at the
idea of stripping down to night gown and panties with Hannah.

"Sure," Hannah said. "Saves time later. Besides, my bra is
killing me and my jeans are too tight - I want to get them off."

With that she pulled her tee-shirt over her head, reached behind
her back and deftly undid her bra. Catherine stared mesmerised at
the older girl's large breast. They seemed even bigger than when
she had seen them the first time. Hannah was struggling with the
jeans button, but sensed Catherine's gaze and looked up. "I've
been living too well and put on weight. I need bigger bras - we
could go bra-shopping tomorrow for both of us," she said with a
grin.

"It's not like I have much," Catherine started, but Hannah cut
her off.

"Don't diss your boobs - I love them. Besides, I was planning on
seeing what a push-up bra would do for you..."

Hannah waltzed into her bedroom and found a night gown. Catherine
retreated to the guest room, got her night gown out of her bag
and started to strip. She was secretly hoping that Hannah would
join her and she was not disappointed.

"Your boobs are getting bigger all the time too," Hannah said as
she walked up behind the almost naked Catherine, turned her to
face the mirror on the wall and reached round to cup her breasts
pressing them upwards and inwards. "Didn't I tell you? With a
push-up bra you have cleavage!"

The sensation of having Hannah touch her breast had made
Catherine close her eyes to focus on the feeling. She felt all
giddy and warm and wet. With a struggle she opened her eyes again
and looked in the mirror. Hannah was right; she did have cleavage
when her breasts were moved that way. She looked up and saw
Hannah smiling at her over her right shoulder. She smiled back.

After what felt like ages - but in reality it was only a few more
seconds, Hannah let go of her friend's breasts and Catherine put
the night gown on. 'It could all have been a dream,' she thought.
'Only, my panties are very wet and there is this faint, but
intensely pleasant scent in the room.'

Catherine's panties were not the only ones to be wet and the
faint, but intensely pleasant scent was that of two very turned
on girls. Hannah was shaken by the feelings the little episode
had triggered and decided it was time to cool off a little.
"Let's go watch movies," she said and dragged Catherine out of
the room.

All up they watched four different films, frequently laughing,
sometimes gasping and occasionally sobbing - and generally having
a great time. The last one they watched long after midnight was a
Swedish film from the late 1990'es. In English it was called
'Show Me Love' - presumably because the original title - 'Fucking
Åmål' - was deemed impossible in the more puritan markets. The
story depicted in the film; two teenaged girls in a dreary
provincial town discovering their sexuality and mutual
attraction, left both Hannah and Catherine in deep thoughts while
the end-trailer rolled over the screen.

"I don't think I want to watch any more films tonight," Hannah
finally said standing up, "or we shan't have any energy for what
we're doing tomorrow night."

"What about tomorrow night?" Catherine asked. She had been close
to dozing off, but now she was suddenly wide awake.

"Tomorrow night, that is to say, tonight, we're going out,"
Hannah replied. "But I won't tell you where, when or what - that
is a surprise."

Catherine's eyes were shining with excitement. "Not fair!" she
said with a mock-pout,

"Believe me, little sister, you will have fun!" Hannah said and
pulled Catherine into a close embrace. Afterwards they weren't
sure who had started the kissing or who opened her mouth first.
It was quiet and long and very, very intense and the feel of the
other girl's tongue in her mouth and the other girl's soft
breasts against her own through the night gowns and the notable
heat from the other girl's groin had them both in complete
sensory overload.

They finally broke the kiss. Catherine helped Hannah carry the
remains of their snack orgy back to the kitchen area and then
went to find her toothbrush. Hannah followed her into the guest
room. "Do we have to pretend you are sleeping in here?" she
asked.

"I guess," Catherine replied, "but can't we just make the bed
look like it has been slept in?"

"No need," Hannah replied. "We'll just strip the bed and leave it
in a crumpled heap on the floor." She was going to add 'besides
your mother OK'ed just about anything,' but decided against
telling Catherine that. She also decided they would stick to
kissing.

They didn't quite. Two people in a waterbed tend to 'migrate'
closely towards one another. They decided that was nice - very
nice - but also very warm, so they stripped down to panties. They
kissed and caressed each other's breasts until they fell asleep
lying 'in spoons'.


Catherine woke up Saturday morning from the triple sensation that
she was in a strange bed, that she was not alone in that bed and
that someone was looking at her. She remembered the night before,
opened her eyes and saw the smiling face of Hannah very close to
her own. "That's the best I've slept in ages," she said with a
big smile of her own.

"Good morning sleepy head!" Hannah replied, leaned in and kissed
Catherine gently on the mouth. Tongues came into play and the
kiss developed into a long cuddle and mutual touching of breasts.
When they finally broke the kiss for air, Hannah steeled herself.
If they were to get up today at all, it had to be now, she
thought and more or less rolled out of Catherine's arms and out
of the bed. "Time for breakfast," she declared and went to the
kitchen area.

She was still only wearing panties, so Catherine decided to stay
that way too and as a result they ate their breakfast topless. If
either of them had expected to feel embarrassed, it didn't
happen. They finished breakfast and cleared up the kitchen area.
"I suggest we have showers in separate bathrooms, or it may take
too long," Hannah said with a grin and stripped out of her
panties. Catherine, slightly bewildered by that statement,
unashamedly took a good look at her older friend's crotch.
Hannah's pubic hair - almost exactly the same dark brown colour
as the hair on her head - was neatly trimmed. Catherine herself
didn't have all that much hair yet but decided then and there she
wanted to keep it trimmed just like Hannah. She took her panties
off too and walked towards the second bathroom.

Hannah only got a brief glimpse of Catherine's crotch, but
followed the cute, gently swaying bottom with her eyes as her
young friend walked away. Horny out of her mind, she rushed to
the en-suite bathroom and brought herself off under the shower. A
few feet away in the other bathroom, Catherine was doing the
same.


They got dressed and hit the nearby shopping area. Deciding it
was too upmarket; they went in to the centre of London and roamed
the more ordinary clothes shops there for hours. They had great
fun but didn't end up buying very much apart from bras for them
both and a low cut silk top for Catherine. Hannah did however
stock up on make-up including some colours she wouldn't use
herself - she had plans for Catherine.

They stopped in a Pret a Manger for a late lunch. "Fill up well,"
Hannah said. "We won't get supper until late."

"What are we doing tonight?" Catherine asked again.

"I'll tell you a little later. Be patient for now," Hannah teased
and she was unmoved by Catherine's pleading.


On the way home on the Tube they studied the entertainment pages
of one of the free newspapers including an article on a film that
was to have its London premiere that very day, "Oh, I'd love to
be there," Catherine gushed. "The lead actor is like totally hot
and he will be right there tonight at Leicester Square!"

Hannah just smiled.

Back in the apartment, Hannah said to Catherine "We should go
wash our hair - it's time for serious dolling up!"

"What are we doing, where are we going?" Catherine tried once
more.

Hannah relented. "We are going to that premiere so you get to see
your hottie," she teased.

"You mean, like going in to Leicester Square and watch the stars
arrive?" Catherine asked - surprised but excited about the idea,
if a little confused why they had to dress up for that.

"Nope," Hannah said. "We are going to the premiere. I have
tickets."

"No way!" Catherine squealed.

"Way!" Hannah replied coolly. "I won them in a competition."

Catherine's excitement was very noisy. When she was finally out
of breath, Hannah explained how she had entered an on-line
competition just for fun - and won. She hadn't thought more about
it because normally she would have been working this evening, but
she had remembered them while talking to Joanna yesterday. "I did
originally think of giving them to you - I remembered the five
posters of the male lead on your wall! - but the film is rated 15
and I didn't think your mum would go along with it."

Catherine gulped. "What do you think Mum will say?"

"Your mum isn't the problem. She explicitly said she wouldn't
worry about film ratings this weekend," Hannah replied.

Catherine caught the emphasis on mum and hesitantly said "But?"

"But the film is still rated 15 - so we gotta make you look at
least that," Hannah replied with a grin.

"Thus the makeup and the push-up bra?" Catherine asked,
comprehension dawning.

"Exactly," Hannah replied. "And I have a skirt that is slightly
too, ahem, narrow, for me. It will look fantastic on you with the
new blouse."

It did. And Hannah's work with Catherine's hair and makeup was
nothing short of amazing. Not only did she easily look 15 -
actually, she could pass for 16 or even 17.

On the way on the tube, Hannah tried to dampen expectations by
telling Catherine that although they would be let in they weren't
exactly VIPs, that in fact their only advantage compared to the
fans outside was that they were inside and able to actually see
the film, and that they were unlikely to see much of the real
VIPs.

But when they arrived at the cinema, Hannah had to eat her words.
The staff discretely sorted non-VIP guests and directed the two
very pretty girls out in front were they could see everything -
and be seen. They had no idea that it was their looks that did
it; only stunned by their good fortune.

Catherine didn't call her friend wrong; in fact Catherine was
completely over the moon. She got to exchange a few words with
the male lead, got his autograph and had her picture taken with
him with the camera in Hannah's cell phone. "Wait until my class
mates hear about this and see the picture!" she gushed.

The film itself was actually quite good, the girls agreed. And
the brief after-party was superb. Once more Hannah's predictions
were shamed - the food and drink was good and plentiful and the
same for all. "Stay off anything with alcohol," Hannah whispered.
"You may look at least 16 but you are only 13 and we don't want
trouble."

Catherine was fine with that. And she was thrilled when two young
men - well, a young man of about 18 and a boy of 16, hit on them.
Mark and Thomas were brothers and somehow related to the chairman
of the film's distributors. Mark tried to make it sound like they
were important members of the film industry. Catherine took it
all in while Hannah found Mark's tactics obvious and juvenile and
his pickup lines pathetic. His younger brother was much more
natural - and very much taken with Catherine.

Hannah excused herself to the bathroom. When she returned and
found that Thomas had moved in very closely to Catherine, she
decided to pull the brakes. The party was breaking up anyway and
Hannah politely but firmly declined the invitation to 'go out
somewhere' with the brothers.

Catherine was slightly peeved. "Thomas was cute," she pouted as
they were walking away from the crowds in the Square.

"He sure was," Hannah agreed, "but his older brother was
unbearable. Much too full of himself. Besides, he was too young
for me - and you are too young for his brother. Your mother would
skin me alive if went out with those two."

"I suppose," Catherine said, "but I don't really want to go home
yet."


Chapter 7

They had crossed Shaftesbury Avenue into Soho and found
themselves in Old Compton Street with its many diverse bars and
clubs.

"We don't have to go home," Hannah said. "We could go dancing."

"Like where?" Catherine asked visibly brightening.

"Right here looks fine," Hannah said. There was a short queue at
the venue - and all the patrons were girls.

"Is this a, you know, a lesbian club?" Catherine asked barely
above a whisper.

"I think so," Hannah replied. "At least we won't be hit on by
guys!" she laughed.

"What if we are hit on by girls?" Catherine wondered.

"Everyone will think we are together," Hannah replied. "No need
to worry."

Catherine bit her lip. "I suppose so."

Once more Catherine's clothes and makeup fooled the staff at the
door and they entered unhindered. They had a ball dancing. Again
they stayed off alcohol, mindful of the precarious legal
situation. They met a pair of girls - Eleanor and her young
friend Jennie - and had a great time both talking to and dancing
with them too.

Reluctantly, they finally broke up the party and went home. "I
think I'll want a shower before I go to bed," Hannah said. "Shall
we shower together and help each other get the make up off?"

"Good idea," Catherine said and undressed quickly.

A good 20 minutes later she understood why Hannah had said
showering separately was quicker. Under the mesmerising and
plentiful warm water, they washed and caressed each other. On
several occasions hands drifted towards crotches. When Hannah ran
a finger long Catherine's pussy she shuddered and nearly came.
"Mum says girls, you know, can lick each other," Catherine said.
"It is supposed to be very nice to be licked"

"So I'm told," Hannah replied. "But I've never tried it. My
ex-boyfriend wouldn't although he was keen enough for me to lick
him." 'And you are my first girlfriend', she thought, but she
didn't say that loud.

"Should we, you know, try?" Catherine asked nervously as Hannah
switched off the shower and they started to dry each other.

"No," Hannah smiled. "That's a line we can't cross. It is against
the law when you are so young. I shouldn't even have touched you
down there before."

"I'm glad you did," Catherine replied. "It felt great."

They went to bed completely nude and kissed and cuddled each
other to sleep, but by unspoken agreement their hands stayed out
of crotches.


Sunday morning it was Catherine that woke up first. She looked at
her beautiful friend and tried to analyse her feelings. Being
naked in bed with Hannah was wonderful, but was this what she
wanted? Thomas had been an interesting experience too - a pity
really that Hannah and Mark had fitted so badly. Damn and blast
having to choose. Damn and blast being deemed 'too young' all the
time.

They had left the curtains open when they went to bed last night
and Catherine's eyes drifted out over the river and the city
skyline. She was miles away and nearly jumped out of her skin
when Hannah suddenly said "A penny for your thoughts."

"I didn't know you were awake," Catherine said and then replied
to Hannah's question in an indirect way. "I was just wondering if
that club we visited last night, if, you know, if I really
belonged there. Or if you do for that matter."

Hannah half smiled, half sighed. "You mean if we are lesbians?"

Catherine nodded. "I don't think I am," she said, then added "I
like boys too, well, some boys, and I want babies."

"Do you regret anything we've done this weekend?" Hannah asked
quietly.

Despite her youth, Catherine recognized her friend's
vulnerability. "Never!" she replied. "This is the best weekend in
my life and I love you!"

Hannah opened her arms and Catherine cuddled up close. Hannah was
all smiles again. "Well, I love you too! I think it is quite
obvious we are bi." Catherine's questioning eyes made her
clarify. "Bi, as in bisexual - liking both kinds."

"Oh," Catherine said enlightened. "Mum says most people are, but
at some stage you have to choose. I just hate having to choose."
She trailed off, and then took up her other grievance. "Not that
I have to choose any time soon. It will be 3 years before anyone
is allowed to touch me."

"I think you will find that touching is OK as long as it is with
someone closer in age. Your Mum is quite liberal, you know,"
Hannah said.

"Really?" Catherine asked. Few teenagers would agree to that
description of their parents.

"Really!" Hannah replied. "Think of all the things she has talked
to you about. Besides, she more or less OK'ed that we slept, as
in slept, together this weekend. She knew I wouldn't hurt you -
and she knows we love each other."

Catherine stared open mouthed. That was news. And it could make
for some embarrassing moments when her parents returned. She
dismissed the thought and followed up on something else instead.
"But what about you?" she asked. "I think I interrupted you
before."

"Well, I really don't know," Hannah said. "Like you, I have
always wanted babies. I just never hit off with boys and men my
own age. I never dated in high school. Greg was my first and one
and only and he was a disaster. And there is this creep at work
that hits on me, but I would rather never have sex with a man
again than have sex with him."

Catherine giggled, but Hannah stopped herself. Perhaps she was
loading too much on a 13 year old. On the other hand she saw only
love and understanding in her young friend's eyes, and when
Catherine spoke; her question shook Hannah to the core. "Why
don't you marry George?"

"That's just it. Why don't I?" she pondered. "I always wanted to
when I was a kid, except he was married to my auntie. Now he is a
widower. But, you know, his daughters are nearly my age."

Catherine just nodded. She had met the Hamsun daughters many
times from as far back as she could remember. Not so often
recently though, especially not Beth. She had no idea how they
would react. She tried to imagine if her own mum was dead and her
dad remarried someone just older than herself. And a second
cousin at that. Would she be able to accept that? She honestly
didn't know. It would depend on the person. And Hannah was
lovely, that was for certain.


Catherine needed the toilet and excused herself. While she was
there, her cell phone started to ring. Hannah - thinking it might
me Joanna or Dave - picked it up and said "Catherine's phone -
it's Hannah."

"Oh hullo Hannah," an ill-defined male voice said, shifting
almost a whole register. "It's Thomas. We, eh, met last night.
Eh, is, um, Catherine there?"

"Oh, hi Thomas," Hannah said. 'I didn't know the little monkey
gave you her phone number', she thought. 'How do we handle this?'
She spoke again. "No, Catherine has just gone to be 'where others
are not' right now. She'll be back in a mo."

"Oh," Thomas said. "Actually, I'm, you know, 'eh glad it was you
who picked up the phone. I was, eh, going to ask you if, um, do
you know, like, does she have a boyfriend?"

The last few words came very fast. Hannah suppressed a laugh. "No
Thomas, I am quite certain she doesn't." Wickedly she added. "Why
do you want to know?"

His stammering and frequency shifts got even worse, but
eventually he managed to convey the meaning that he would like
that position provided it was vacant. Hannah decided to be
straight forward. "I am not saying she wouldn't be interested,
but you would likely have to wait a couple of years."

"Why?" the boy asked evidently confused.

"Because she is only just 13," Hannah said.

"No way!" he exclaimed, the stutter momentarily gone. "She looked
at least 16!"

"She had to," Hannah said simply, "or your uncle's people
wouldn't have let her in, would they?"

There was some heavy-duty whispering going on in the background.
"Well, um, she completely fooled us," the boy finally said. "And,
um, just out of interest, how old are you?"

"Was that your brother asking?" Hannah said suppressing another
laugh.

"Uh huh," the boy replied, evidently embarrassed.

"It's not like it is his business," Hannah said, "but you can
tell him I turn 23 next birthday - and he is unlikely to be
invited."

Hannah heard this message be repeated verbatim. She thought she
sensed a certain Schadenfreude in the tone of voice, amongst the
stutter.

"Anyway," Hannah continued as she saw Catherine approach the bed
again with a puzzled expression, "Catherine is back and you can
talk to her yourself. But just remember this Thomas: Anything you
do will have to be OK'ed by her parents, do you get me?"

As Hannah handed the phone over to a startled Catherine, she
thought she heard a faint "Yes Miss" on the phone.

With a big grin that Catherine couldn't see, Hannah pulled on a
pair of panties and left the bedroom to start making breakfast.
She took her time and still she had to wait quite a while before
a flushed Catherine joined her.

"Yes?" Hannah said with a lifted eyebrow.

"He said he didn't mind I was only 13. He said he was more than
willing to wait for a good thing," Catherine said in wonder.

'His pick-up lines are WAY better than his older brother's,'
Hannah thought. What she actually said was "So what did you two
work out?"

"I gave him Mum's number. He doesn't live so far away from us and
he would ring Mum and ask if he could visit me one day or perhaps
we could go swimming."

"Super," Hannah replied to that very sensible arrangement. "Let's
eat. Did you tell him you were late for 'topless breakfast'? I
bet you that would have interested him."

'I bet he would have been even more interested to know what I did
to my pussy while talking to him,' Catherine thought - she too
had put panties on to 'cover the evidence'. All she said was
"Yeah, men - and boys - like boobs."

They giggled and dug in.


Chapter 8

They got dressed and spent a lazy day, watching more DVDs and
just talking. Mid afternoon they started dinner - Hannah had
planned an elaborate meal and it took a while to cook. Around
5.30 Dave and Joanna arrived with the younger kids, having
collected Liam on the way. Fiona was happy and exuberant after a
day and a half of ballet. She had slept in the car home and was
full of energy again - and wanted to tell Hannah everything. Her
enthusiasm was so infectious that even Catherine forgot to be a
grumpy teenager and listened instead.

The blow-by-blow account of the ballet school carried on into
dinner. When Fiona had finally run out of steam - though possibly
not things to tell, Dave hastened to ask as casually as he could
"And what have you two been up to this weekend?"

Catherine and Hannah looked at each other. There was a slightly
nervous look in Catherine's eyes that wasn't lost on her mother,
but Joanna didn't say anything.

"It is claimed that one picture says more than a thousand words,"
Hannah eventually said - and then had to avoid Dave's eyes as he
made a theatrical gesture of relief just outside the periphery of
Fiona's vision that almost made Hannah crack up. She retrieved a
photo print from the PC printer and handed it to Joanna and Dave.


It was the snapshot from the movie premiere. Joanna's eyebrows
shot up, but still she didn't say anything.

Her husband studied the picture - he'd been in Catherine's room
often enough to work some of it out. "Even I know who the chap
is," he said, "but who is the chick he has put his arm around?"

Hannah, Catherine and Joanna exploded in laughter. "That, my
dear, is our oldest daughter," Joanna said.

Dave was gob-smacked. His stunned expression had everyone in
hysterics.

"I think," he said subdued, "that at least some of those thousand
words this pictures supposedly replaces need to be spoken
anyway."

"Possibly," his wife said, "but not here and not now. And some of
them may not be good for you!" The women laughed again.

Catherine and Hannah launched into a kids-friendly version of
their weekend, including DVD watching, clothes shopping and the
movie premiere, but most definitely excluded the push-up bra, the
lesbian bar and the topless breakfasts - and the other activities
that involved various stages of undress.

"And Catherine got herself a boyfriend," Hannah teased.

"Did not!" Catherine said blushing scarlet.

"Did too!" Hannah retorted. "Or at least an admirer, boyfriend
status subject to parental approval."

That obviously needed some further explanations. "We met him at
the premiere. He is the nephew of the chairman of the film's
distributor and a very nice kid," Hannah said. "He knows
Catherine is only 13 and was told to clear all contact with you
two."

"I gave him your number Mum," Catherine said. "He is a keen
swimmer and asked if I would like to go to the pool with him one
day."

"That's fine sweetheart," her mother said. "I'll talk to him."

"I would tell him that you are to have no boyfriends before
you're 18 and that you must wear neck to knee swim suits," her
father teased. "But why bother? After what you wore last night,
he knows exactly what he's getting anyway..."

His wife shot him her withering 'cease and desist' glare and Dave
backed off.

Fiona finally got to see the photograph. She expressed sea-green
envy with meeting the actor, admiration for the blouse, the
make-up and the hair-do and wanted to know all about the film - a
request Catherine happily fulfilled. "Can I go see it too Mum?"
Fiona finished off.

"No, Sweets, you can't," Joanna replied. "You have to be much
older - they wouldn't let you in." She shot Hannah a sideways
glance and winked.

Hannah winked back and the conversation turned to other matters.
It had been a long weekend for all of them and it was back to
school and work in the morning so the party broke up early, but
not until everyone had helped clear up after dinner despite
Hannah's feeble protests. "Rubbish," Joanna cut her off. "It is
no trouble and besides you need to be fresh tomorrow for your new
work!"

Catherine was sent to pack up her stuff which she dutifully did
in the guest room aided by her mother. She bestowed Hannah a
sisterly caress when they left and Hannah, who suddenly felt very
tired went to bed almost immediately and slept like a log.


Back home with the younger children safely in bed and asleep,
Joanna knocked on her oldest daughter's door and entered.
Catherine was in bed already too, so Joanna sat on the edge of
the bed like she did about a week earlier. "So, did you have a
good weekend?" Joanna asked.

"The best Mum," Catherine replied. "We had so much fun! Hannah is
such a sweetie."

"Did you work a few things out?" Joanna asked - not wanting to
infringe on Catherine's privacy and willing to back off
immediately, but still curious.

"Kind of," Catherine sighed. And then with more vigour she added
"Yes, well, I did. But it still sucks having to choose."

"You know," Joanna said, "there is really nothing to stop you
from remaining very close - as long as there are some lines you
don't cross. Mainly not to hurt whoever you end up with
permanently."

"Mum..." - Catherine had opened her mouth to speak but faltered.
She somehow knew she needn't tell her mother that Hannah and she
hadn't crossed those lines anyway. Instead she said something
else. "Mum, if Thomas does ring, can I go swimming with him?"

"I can't see why not," her Mum said. "If he is as nice as Hannah
says then it would be OK."

Joanna got a hug for that. Just as she was leaving, her daughter
called her back.

"You know Mum; one can get padded swim suits too. They work just
like the bra Hannah bought me..."

Joanna laughed, but in a sweet and understanding way. "That's an
idea. We can't have that the young man gets disappointed, can
we?" She left the room.

Catherine sighed and rolled over. She felt safe and happy and
loved.


Upstairs Dave was waiting for Joanna in bed. He took a very keen
interest in 'Operation 4th Baby' and while Joanna assured him
that if they hadn't already done the deed it was too late for
this month, his 'well, we'd better make sure' argument was
irresistible.

As they were basking in the afterglow, Dave was gently playing
with his wife's breasts - what they lacked in volume they
certainly had in the nipple department. He suddenly said "When
did our daughter get cleavage and how come she got to go to a
15-rated movie premiere?"

"The answers to those two questions are closely related," Joanna
said with a sigh as her husband's nipple-stimulation triggered a
small after-tremor in her womb. "In order to get in to a 15-rated
movie she had to look 15, and in order to do that, a push-up bra
was used. It worked."

"I'll say!" Dave replied. "She looked like my O-level students."
Like many teachers he still referred to 16-year olds that way.
"Anyway," he continued, "were you aware that they would be doing
that?"

"The movie premiere?" Joanna asked. "No, I didn't. But they had
carte blanche to watch whatever DVDs they liked irrespective of
ratings. Hannah must have taken that as a general permit, and
indeed that was OK. We agreed they could do just about anything
they liked."

"Do you think they did anything else?" Dave asked. He wasn't
being specific, but his wife understood him anyway - the hand
rolling her nipple certainly helped steer her thoughts in a
specific direction.

"To a point," she replied. "Catherine's bedding which was very
prettily stripped off the bed and artistically strewn on the
floor of the guest room had not been used, I am sure. I noted
that when I picked it up to put in the laundry bin. I folded it
neatly instead..."

Dave laughed, "So they slept together?"

"Yes, I'm sure they did. But I think sleeping was mostly all they
did," Joanna replied.

"How so?" Dave asked, not too precisely, but his meaning was
clear from the context.

"Because your daughter wanted me to buy her a padded swim suit to
be able to display that new found cleavage to the young man when
they go swimming," Joanna said between small gasps - Dave's other
hand was now playing with her unusually large clit. "Whatever
else she likes, she likes boys - and what they have to offer."

She grabbed Dave's dick - his erection had returned with a
vengeance. "As does her mother. Come on Big Boy, let's make it
twins!"

Despite having come so recently, Dave came almost as quickly
again as his wife. He couldn't remember when they'd last done it
twice in a night, or when his wife had last been so loud when she
came. He wasn't complaining.

Downstairs, Catherine again had no difficulty working out what
was going up in her parent's bedroom. She dimly associated the
sex-related conversations she had been having with her mum with
the subsequent vigorous action upstairs. "You owe me Daddy," she
chuckled to herself as she brought herself off too and finally
managed to fall asleep.


Monday morning Hannah woke up bright and early, feeling rested
and ready to start afresh in 'Right Ward'. She too thought it had
been a great weekend. She felt certain that her relationship with
Catherine, such as it was, would enrich her life but not cause
any major upheavals for either of them. The weekend's experiences
had been good, but she would put them behind her. Yes, she was bi
- come to think of it she had known that for a long, long time
and the physical closeness to Catherine had been good, but she
also wanted a man. A specific man. George, to be precise. How
that was going to happen she didn't know. She would work on it,
but it had to be him. She had woken up from the most wonderful
dream about him. She wanted that dream to come true.


The plan of putting the weekend's experiences behind her lasted
for about two minutes at work until she was introduced to her
team. "And this is your team-leader," the Matron said.

The nurse thus introduced turned around with a welcoming smile.
It was Eleanor. "Uh hullo Hannah," she said with a slightly
disconcerted look in her eyes.

"I didn't know you two knew each other," the Matron said - Hannah
being so recently employed and mainly working nights and weekends
in 'Left Ward' made it surprising.

"Oh we met, eh, socially in town this weekend," Eleanor said.
"For a, um, girls' night thing."

"Well, that's excellent Eleanor," the Matron said brightly to her
deputy. "I can leave you in charge of our new colleague then,"
and she rushed off.

Eleanor decided to do just that - here and now. When they were
alone - that is to say with someone quite incapable of telling
tales; a 9 weeks premature baby deeply asleep - Eleanor wasted no
time. "The place we met," she started. "I have never been there
before."

Hannah smiled. "That makes two of us - well, three - my young
friend hadn't either."

"Four then, I think," Eleanor said. "Even if it was my young
friend's idea. Jennie is the little sister of my very
ex-boyfriend and it turns out she has had quite a 'pash' on me
for ages. When I agreed to meet her in town, I had no idea what
was going on or what she had in mind. I always liked her and
missed her and we had a great time, but it is not my scene. And
I'd rather it didn't come out - I don't think she should have
been there. She is quite a bit younger than me, you know. It
could be a bit of a scandal."

"I can relate to a lot of that," Hannah said, "including bringing
someone much too young."

"Yes, I guess Jennie and Catherine was it? - are much of an age,"
Eleanor agreed. "Jennie turned 16 a few weeks ago, but it is
amazing what a little make-up can do."

Hannah nearly cracked up. "I'll say!" she said. "Throw in a
wonder-bra and you can get a 13 year old into a night club."

Eleanor was stunned. "13??? NO way. She looked 16 or 17."

"Yes," Hannah said. "That is exactly how the boy she met at the
movie premiere reacted when he was told. But it is true. For
starters she is tall. Her boobs are quite good for 13, her skin
is clear and with makeup and the push-up bra the illusion was
perfect. Of course it had to be for us to attend that premiere.
The club was an afterthought, and they should have turned us
away. At least we stayed out of the bar. I don't think they would
have served us."

Eleanor shook her head in amazement. "Well, I suppose keeping
quiet is not going to be an issue for either of us, is it?"

"Nope," Hannah said. "As I said, Catherine is very much into boys
too. And while I love her, I also want a flock of these," - she
indicated the baby - "and their father."

"It sounds like you've got someone specific in mind," Eleanor
said - it was a statement, not a question.

"I do," Hannah agreed. "A real man this time, not like the
immature brat I was with before I fled Australia."

"My turn to relate. Jennie's brother was a bad mistake. He even
turned abusive. And I have a sneaking suspicion Jennie's
preference for girls has a sad background. She was hinting that
Jim - my ex, her brother, is called Jim - had crossed some lines
that shouldn't be crossed between siblings."

Hannah visibly shuddered. Her three older brothers had clearly
and openly admired her beauty, but she was sure they would rather
have cut off a hand than touch her inappropriately. "That's
tough. And then she hits on you in vain. Will she get over you?"
Hannah asked.

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Eleanor replied. "I talked to her on
yesterday and we are still friends. She will find someone her own
age. I kind of got the impression that besides actually liking
me, she also saw me as the perfect revenge over her brother -
turning us both lesbian, as it were. I didn't want to play along
with that."

"Obviously not," Hannah laughed and the conversation turned to
professional matters where they too found much common ground.

So, completely according to expectation, Hannah made friends
already on her first day at her 'new' work. Besides Eleanor, she
clicked instantly with another junior nurse, Stacey, who reminded
her of one of her closest friends from nursing school. The
pattern repeated over the next several weeks until she knew,
liked - and was liked by, everyone. 'Right Ward' was right
indeed.


Chapter 9

The following Saturday morning, Joanna and Catherine were home
alone. Fiona was with a friend and Dave had taken Liam shopping,
so they were able to a have a mother-and-daughter morning in the
kitchen. The night before Thomas had finally worked up the
courage to phone Joanna about seeing Catherine and a 'date' had
been arranged for the coming Tuesday afternoon at the local
aquatic centre. Joanna would be there - discretely in the
background, she promised, to supervise things. That was OK with
Catherine. There is a limit to how frolicsome you can be in a
public swimming pool anyway; her main concern was if they would
have time to buy the promised new swim-suit and if her period
would be over by Tuesday.

Something about her period struck her as odd. And suddenly it
dawned on her what it was. Ever since her period started it had
been completely regular and completely in sync with her mother's,
as is often the case. So under normal circumstances they should
both have been writhing in agony, yet only Catherine seemed so
afflicted. She remembered the unusually frequent noises from her
parents' bedroom in recent weeks and the implication seemed
inevitable. "Mom! Are you pregnant?" she blurted out.

Joanna nearly choked on her coffee sending it spluttering in all
directions. It was indeed possible, but she was only just late
and she had not expected Catherine to know. "Why do you ask?"

"Because we always have our period at the same time," Catherine
replied. "Besides you and Dad have been busy in the bed
recently..." she added with an impish grin.

Joanna turned scarlet. "I'm sorry honey; I didn't know you could
hear us. I am so sorry!"

Her daughter stopped her. "I'm not," she said. "It's nice to know
your parents love each other."

Joanna smiled. "You don't mind yet another sibling?"

"Not at all - I love babies," Catherine gushed.

"And better me than you?" Joanna teased.

It was Catherine's turn to blush. "Mum!" she exclaimed. "As if!"

"Sorry honey, just teasing," Joanna said. "But I'm glad you're
not adverse to the idea."

"No, it's cool," Catherine said. "It's not like you and Dad are
ancient."

"Exactly," her mother replied - relived that her oldest had taken
it so well. Teenagers can be funny about their parents being
sexually active.

"Anyway, are you pregnant?" Catherine asked again.

"I don't know yet," her mother replied. "I haven't even told Dad
yet that I'm late."

"How soon can you, you know, test?" Catherine asked.

"In principle already now. The tests you buy these days can be
used from the day you period is due," Joanna said.

"Have you got one?" Catherine asked.

"As a matter of fact I do," Joanna replied, "but..." she trailed
off. Her daughter looked so eager and truth be told, she was
curious herself. "All right then," she relented. "But on two
conditions: If it is positive you are not to tell your siblings.
Early pregnancies are fragile. It will be another 10 to 12 weeks
before we can be fairly certain there will actually be a baby.
OK?"

"OK," Catherine said. "What is the other condition?"

"That I get to tell Dad!" Joanna stated firmly.

Catherine vigorously nodded her acceptance and a few minutes
later they were both peering intently at the small window on the
pregnancy test. As if by magic two clear blue lines appeared.
Catherine squealed in excitement and hugged her mother.

"That is so cool," she exclaimed. "I hope it's a boy - it would
be good for Liam to get a playmate."

Her mother smiled, feeling elated, happy, worried and all those
other emotions that all women experience when faced with a
pregnancy, however desired. "Just remember what you promised,"
she said.

"Sure," Catherine replied, "Mum's the word!" - her impish grin
spreading from ear to ear.


While no longer having to volunteer for night and weekend shifts
in order to circumvent the loathsome advances of Dr.
Hamilton-Smythe, Hannah evidently couldn't avoid such shifts
altogether and this Saturday morning, which saw so much
jubilation in her friends' home half a dozen suburbs away, Hannah
was dragging herself home from London Bridge station. She was
feeling miserable from her period and wholeheartedly wished she
could avoid that for the next five or six years while turning out
a flock of babies of her own. She bought fresh bread from the
baker in Shade Thames, made herself a cup of divine coffee on the
Italian Marvel and sat down with a grunt on her balcony.

OK, the coffee was fantastic and the bread was superb and the
view was second to none. And she had to admit that even the
weather was much better than she would have expected from
November. OK, that all helped. But she felt lonely. She missed
her parents. Only yesterday her Mum had told her they couldn't
come for Christmas anyway - something about her Dad's work and
her Gran being ill, but it was a blow. And George wouldn't be
there for Christmas either, of course - he would be in Norway
with his kids and while Hannah had been invited, she had
initially declined because she thought her parents would be in
London, and besides she couldn't go away due to her shifts.
Anyway, Christmas was over a month in the future. Now was now and
she missed George so much it hurt.

Just as she had managed to find a sitting position that reduced
the pain, her phone started to ring. She realized she had left it
in the kitchen. She let it ring. It finally stopped, but a few
moments later it started again. With a curse, a grunt and a
jabbing pain from her abdomen, she got up and went to answer it.
It was George.

"Hannah! Oh I'm so glad you're there anyway. How are you?" came
his familiar cheerful voice.

"George!" Hannah sobbed and then broke down completely and just
cried.

"Hannah, my love. What ever is the matter?" George asked in
concern.

"I am sick and miserable and lonely and I miss you!" Hannah got
out between the sobs.

"First things first. 'Sick' you say. What's wrong?" George asked.

"Oh, it's nothing - it's just the women's curse," Hannah replied
bashfully.

"That would account for 'miserable' too, you poor thing," came
George's reply. "Well, that leaves 'lonely' and 'missing me' -
which are luckily the ones I can do something about. And that's
actually exactly why I'm ringing. Can I come tomorrow and stay
for most of the week? I have some heavy duty negotiations coming
up."

"Oh George, I would love for you to come," Hannah exclaimed, "I
am feeling much better already. When will you be here?"

"It will be fairly late," he replied. "I don't think my flight
lands until shortly before 9."

"That's fine," Hannah replied. "I have a late day shift tomorrow,
so I'll be home around 10 myself."

"Super," George said. "We can have a late supper together then.
My meetings start around midday so I don't have to get up early."

"That sounds lovely. Will Colin be there too?" Hannah asked.

"No, I've had a bit of flack from his school about him 'always
being away', so I've 'parked him' with the girls for the week,"
came the reply. The Hamsun girls were sharing a very nice
apartment in central Oslo and presumably they would be able to
get their little brother to school before heading of to Uni
themselves.

"Like he was in any danger of falling behind," Hannah said
scornfully. Colin was acing every test and breaking every curve
and had been doing so since Kindergarten.

"Yeah, I know. It's absurd," George said, "but there is a new
class teacher and she gave me a lot of guff about 'social
cohesion' and such like. Wasn't pleasant. I've just about had it
with that place." He was sounding uncharacteristically angry and
Hannah decided it would be better to talk about it some other
time.

"I just wanted to know if my poster boy would be there too," she
said.

"Nah, you'll have to make do with the poster boy's father,"
George replied grumpily.

"Lovely!" Hannah chirped. "There are a lot of things I can't do
with the poster boy's father if the poster boy is around."

A stunned and slightly confused George mumbled his farewells.
Hannah grinned to herself. 'Shock therapy I think that was
called,' she thought. 'I hope I didn't scare him off!'

George's oldest daughter Elsebeth, or Beth as she had always been
called, was there to pick up her little brother. She had walked
in at the end of the conversation. "Who was that?" she asked.

"Um, Hannah," George replied slightly dazed.

"I see," his daughter said. "I see." And in fact she did see -
she was looking at the tent in her father's trousers. But George
was too bewildered to notice her glance or intonation.

"Colin and I are leaving now," his daughter said. She had to
repeat it and George finally pulled himself together and made
some reply.


"Anne, I think Dad is falling in love with Hannah," Beth told her
sister in a hushed voice when Colin was happily installed in
front of some TV program.

"About bloody time, Beth," her younger sister replied. "Took him
long enough."

"You saw this coming?" Beth asked in surprise.

"Sure I did," came Anne's reply. "They've loved each other
always."

"But, but, she is so much younger than him. I mean, she is just a
year older than me!" Beth protested.

"And?" Anne replied scornfully. "You gotta admit he's good
looking for his age. And Hannah is a complete babe. And she
hasn't exactly had much luck with men her own age, has she?"

Beth shrugged. She had never been quite as close to Hannah as
Anne was and in consequence knew less about the Greg-affair than
her younger sister, but she could see there was some truth in
what Anne said. It just felt strange somehow - hooking up with
someone your father's age. Or did it? She'd had a crush on a
friend's father more then once. Not that it had come to anything
but she might have let it, given half a chance. And her
supervisor at Uni was not much younger than her dad. And
absolutely hot. And single. And flirtatious at times. Anne was
saying something and Beth snapped back to the present. "Sorry,
what?"

"I said you are not the first to get that impression by the way,"
Anne repeated. "Mrs. Åserud noted a change in Dad after a phone
call from Hannah a little while ago."

"As in?" Beth asked - although not sure she really wanted to
know.

"She was kind of circumspect about it," Anne replied. "But she's
been his secretary for years and years and after Mum died she is
most likely the person who knows him best. 'Youthful' and
'frisky' were the words she used."

"Frisky?" Beth asked.

"Her word, not mine," Anne said archly and got on with cooking
dinner.

Yes, Vera Åserud had been circumspect - discretion is imperative
for a personal secretary. But married to a highly sexed man for
30 years and having brought up three strapping lads, she was in
no doubt what George had been 'up to' when he fled to the
bathroom in between talking to Hannah and meeting the negotiators
from the company they were thinking about merging with. She knew
that certain smell very well. She was, in a mild way, hoping her
boss would find a better place to squirt than in the restroom.


So would Hannah, had she known. She had been so close to telling
George he could do something about the reason for her being
'sick' and 'miserable' - at least in the future, but had decided
that was just too forward. But it was what she wanted and she was
now debating with herself how to go about achieving that goal.


Chapter 10

Hannah had the first part of her Sunday day shift with Eleanor.
"You look chirpy Pet," Eleanor said when they were 'alone'.
"Given how bad Stacey said you were yesterday I am surprised."

"George is coming tonight!" Hannah exclaimed.

"George, as in the designated father of your children?" Eleanor
asked lightly

"Yes, that one," Hannah said. "Only he doesn't know that yet."

"But surely he must be keen on you if he is visiting?" Eleanor
said in some confusion.

Hannah realised that she had never told Eleanor about her living
arrangements. They had talked a lot and found many things they
had in common, including being hit on by Dr. Hamilton-Smythe.
Eleanor, who hated the man with a vengeance, had been in stitches
over the professor's gentle jest. "We should set up a petition to
have Rutherford de-ball Greg - it could be the main entertainment
at the Christmas party," she had said. "I swear three quarters of
the nurses would sign it!"

But George had never been mentioned - except indirectly on
Hannah's first day in 'Right Ward'. She now told Eleanor about
the apartment and George's occasional visits. "But who is he?"
Eleanor asked now even more confused.

"He is a Norwegian businessman and the widowed husband of my
mother's cousin," Hannah said.

"Oh!" Eleanor said. "A sort of uncle then. How old is he?"

"Late forties," Hannah replied. "But very well kept."

"O-ho," Eleanor said. "And a widower?"

"Yes, my auntie died last year," Hannah said.

"And you want him," Eleanor said. Again more like a statement
than a question.

"Yes!" Hannah sighed. "I just don't know how. I mean, he has
three kids and he lives and works in Oslo. But I only ever feel
happy when I am with him."

"You could move to Norway..." Eleanor said tentatively. She
didn't really want to see her friend go, but on the other hand it
had always been understood that Hannah was only in London for a
year or so, planning to return to Australia after that.

"Have you heard the language they speak over there?" Hannah said
in despair. "I understand zilch. And I was always a prize idiot
at learning languages."

"Well, you'll have to find a way to make him move here then Pet,"
Eleanor said lightly and kissed her friend on the nose. Their
work precluded more talking and mid-afternoon a bleary-eyed
Eleanor went home. "Have a pleasant evening Pet," she waved and
rushed off to catch her bus.


The day dragged on, but eventually Hannah's shift finally did
end. As she was walking up Shad Themes she noted light from the
apartment. She almost flew up the stairs and when she opened the
door she was met by the most mouth-watering smells - and a sight
to match. George, dressed in a shirt with rolled up sleeves,
business pants and an improvised apron made from a tea-towel, was
preparing a meal in the kitchen. "Hello Hannah my love," he said.
"I managed to get on an earlier plane, so I'm cooking!"

This kiss he got was not of the kind usually exchanged between
uncle and niece, and the hug turned into a long, close caress. "I
am so glad to see you," Hannah said.

"So I gather, and it is mutual," a bemused George replied.

"And I am so hungry," Hannah added. "What is that you're making?"

"I'm cooking various things in tempura batter - using genuine
Japanese tea seed oil," George said. "The shellfish and the red
Kuri squash - you Aussies call them Hokkaido pumpkins - need a
little time; the Shitake mushrooms, bell peppers, eggplant and
gobo root much shorter. And the leaves only go in for a few
seconds."

"Mmmmm," Hannah said.

"Mmmmm," George agreed - although that had also a lot to do with
the fact that Hannah had now taken off her coat and was showing
her nurse's uniform.

She was blatantly unbuttoning said garment when she returned from
hanging her coat in the hall. "I'll get changed quickly," she
said, "and come and a set a table."

"OK," George said - following her closely with his eyes. "But
we'll eat here and don't be long - the food will be ready in a
few minutes and it spoils from waiting."

"Fine," Hannah said. She stripped down to panties by shrugging
out of her uniform, unclasping her bra and removing her
stockings. In a deliberate move she put on nothing but a long
cream mohair cardigan with a fairly deep V-neck - besides the
silver Viking necklace, of course.


"What are we drinking?" she said when she reappeared from her
bedroom and started putting plates on the kitchen-bench itself.

George nearly burned himself on the hot oil from the shock of
seeing her outfit. "Em, eh, white wine. There are a couple of
very nice white Aussies in the fridge," he stammered.

"Lovely!" Hannah said. She practically never drank alcohol and
never alone, but neither of them had to get up early - she not at
all since she had tomorrow off. And although her period pain was
gone now, she still welcomed the idea of a glass or two. Or six.

They sat down on the bar-stools and ate. She with youthful
appetite; he with an appetite inspired by hers - and her. "God,
you are beautiful!" he exclaimed.

"And you are just so sweet," she said with a blazing smile and
leant over to kiss him, giving him an even better view to the
necklace between her breasts. He quit pretending and openly
admired the view. She noted and smiled. Inwardly she cursed her
period. 'I'm sure I could seduce him tonight,' she thought. 'But
never mind - let's build it up - and I'd much rather it was him
seducing me...'

They finished eating. She emptied the bottle in their large wine
glasses - she had 'accidentally' picked huge Burgundy bowls - and
fetched the second bottle in the fridge. "Let's move to the
sofa," she said. He smiled and complied. They sat at opposite
ends of the sofa, she with her legs pulled up under her. Their
talk about all kinds of everyday things flowed freely. So did the
wine.

She excused herself to the bathroom. The last pad was unsoiled;
she discarded it. When she came back she returned not to 'her'
end of the sofa but to his. She placed her head in his lap and
stretched out. She was definitely 'influenced' by the alcohol,
but strangely did not feel actually drunk. He pulled up a blanket
from the basket next to the sofa and covered her. They were quiet
for a while and he was just going to suggest they should call it
a night when she looked up at him and started to talk.

She told him about Greg. As in everything. She cried. He just
held her. "You could have told me, you know," he said gently. But
even now she couldn't bring herself to say why she hadn't. Next
she told him about the weekend with Catherine. As in everything.
This time she didn't cry. She wasn't sure if she should be
annoyed or upset or intrigued or even excited from the fact that
she had felt George's lap firm up. What he said completely threw
her "I can understand that after Greg you needed to work out who
and what you are and what you're looking for in a partner."

The love and understanding overwhelmed her and her tears started
again. He gently stroked her hair. They lost all sense of time.
She was looking deep into his eyes until she could hold the gaze
no more. She fell asleep. He carried her to her bedroom. Mindful
of her gentle jocular rebuke about wanting to be awake next time
he saw her breasts, he didn't take the cardigan off of her; only
the necklace. He tucked her in and kissed her, but she was too
far gone to respond.

He placed a giant glass of water on her bedside table and got
ready for bed himself. Despite the unusual quantity of alcohol
sleep eluded him for quite some time. He realised he hadn't felt
anything like this since meeting Helen all those years ago. Could
this really be happening? Was he crossing the line between 'love'
and 'in love'? With someone he had thought of as his niece for
all of her life?


George got up sometime after 8, more refreshed than he had
expected and suffering no ill effects from the night before. He
let Hannah sleep; he knew she didn't have to go to work at all
today. He ate breakfast and took a cup of coffee out on the
balcony. The morning was cold - almost frosty, but clear and
sunny and in his great coat he didn't feel the cold. He was
reading some papers from the prospective partner company. He was
an old fox at this game and knew what lay behind the lyrical
prose. They had tried a hostile takeover and failed. They had
tried to press him out of the market by dumping the price of
their own inferior product and failed. They had tried to make
integration between their suite and his product more difficult -
in violation of regulations on anti-competitive measures and only
ending up with the real risk of an embarrassing defeat at the
hands of the European Court. They had bought up one of his minor
competitors but failed to integrate that product with their own
portfolio - loosing overall market share in the process. They
needed him now. They were at the point where their only option
was to negotiate a merger on his terms. The next couple of days
should be interesting.


Just before he had to leave he heard a stirring from Hannah's
bedroom. She came out - still in the cardigan, looking
significantly worse for wear. "Thanks for the water," she
croaked, indicating the empty glass in her hand. "I need more and
I need it 8 hours ago!" She went straight to the water cooler and
refilled the glass.

"Poor sweetheart," George said. "At least you don't have to go
anywhere today. See you for dinner?"

"Yes," she said. "But no wine tonight. I have a double shift
tomorrow."

"OK," he said. "That's fine with me; I have meetings all day
tomorrow too."

He was about to leave, but she called him back. "George!" he
turned around. "Thanks. Thanks for last night." She indicated the
cardigan, and he understood what she meant. "Thanks for
everything."

He smiled, blew her a kiss and ran down to his taxi.


She walked around in the apartment like a caged animal. 'Why does
he have to be such a bloody perfect gentleman all the time?' she
thought. Despite her aching head she had immediately understood
the significance of still wearing the cardigan when she woke up.
'He didn't even LOOK at me - nine men out of ten would have
carried me to bed and bonked me senseless! I was not all that
drunk; I would have woken up!' Or would she? She wasn't sure.
'Besides, you love him because of that,' she conceded.

She felt rotten but knew she had to eat something. She opened the
fridge - there was a bowl of newly diced fresh fruit covered with
cling wrap and a tub of organic Greek yoghurt. On top of them was
a hand-written note - 'Good for Girls' - in George's hand. She
sobbed, got out the fruit and the yoghurt and ate hungrily. It
was full of things she loved - and things that made her homesick,
including lychees and Queensland mangoes. 'Damn the man! He
always takes care of my needs. Why can't he take the last step?'

She had a long shower, got dressed and made herself a cup of
coffee. She went out on the balcony, just like George had. But
she wasn't dressed for it and fled back in shivering. Last night
he had wrapped her in a blanket. 'Why aren't you here to wrap me
in your arms?' she thought. Irrationally? Yes. But heartfelt.


George at that stage would have liked nothing better. What was
supposed to have been a brief introductory meeting followed by a
pleasant business lunch had turned into a nightmare. Someone was
obviously keen on trying the bully-boy tactics one more time. The
pleasant people he had met in Oslo were there but also a
hard-nosed bitch from the US headquarters and some silent
sidekick who wasn't even introduced. When the American woman for
the third time interrupted George with some condescending remark
he was close to exploding. His host, the lead negotiator from the
Oslo meeting, was squirming with embarrassment. George cleared
his throat. "Ms. Johnson," he said sharply when she had finished
her repeat of how generous their offer was and how insignificant
George's company and product was. "You are flogging a dead
horse."

Everyone looked up in shock; they hadn't expected such language
from the mild-mannered Norwegian. "And you are wasting your
breath," George added. "You should think up something to say in
the European Court instead." That was not exactly diplomatic and
his host looked pained. Undeterred George went for the kill. "Not
that it matters. You bought SaferWare's nice if ill-fitting
little product and made a botched job of integrating it into your
suite. But I bought a perpetual license to their API. Our product
will be 100% plug compatible - in essence replacing SaferWare
completely - with a release that could be ready to be delivered
tomorrow. It will stink in almost all the areas that SaferWare
stinks because of your incompetent integration, but not quite
because we, unlike SaferWare, actually use the same primary
methodology you do. And it will add a zillion features your
customers need. Plus give them constant reminders that they can
migrate away to a completely different platform."

"What different platform?" the 'sidekick' said - those were the
first words he had uttered.

"Why, the complete suite of products we will be forced to bring
in," George said casually. "It will be a lot cheaper than yours -
a lot of it is open-source based. So is yours, of course, but
unlike you we will acknowledge it."

"What makes you think we don't bring in our own product to
eliminate yours?" Ms. Johnson asked. Her bravura was audibly
fading though.

"Because you can't," George said, not dismissively, but still
with a convincing air of finality. "You tried and you failed. We
own the patents you need and we're not licensing them to you. And
we won't let you get away with stealing them."

"What makes you think we need anything of yours?" Ms. Johnson
demanded - still combatant, but she looked concerned now.

By way of answer George located a file on his notebook and opened
it. Ms. Johnson's voice came out of the speakers. "This is Ms.
Johnson trying to incite my main developer to jump ship and bring
our technology," George said conversantly. And in the next bit
you will hear her offer legal assistance if Bjørn is willing to
go to court and claim that the patents are really his, not ours."
The American woman was heard speaking with an intense fake
sincerity that rivalled that of a TV-evangelist saying 'We wanna
help you get what's rightly yours!'

"I think we have heard enough," the 'sidekick' said.

"Yes," George's host, the head of the London office, agreed. He
turned to his equally embarrassed secretary. "Michael, would you
be a dear and serve George a cup of coffee in my office while we
discuss this internally?"

"Yes!" the young man said with such eagerness George could only
smile and follow him out of the room.

"Linda, what the HELL were you thinking of," the male American
was heard yelling as the door closed behind them.

"Good question," Michael muttered. "I can't tell you how sorry we
are Mr. Hamsun," he started.

"Call me George," George said. "And yes, you can. You already
did. Yours and Christopher's body language told me so even
without words. And I am fine for coffee, really."

"Will you pull out?" the young man asked. He looked slightly
embarrassed asking, but George put him at ease.

"That's up to Christopher and the American big-wig," George said.
“I'm still here, but if Ms. Johnson stays then I leave - when you
have bought me lunch."

After a second's incredulous hesitation Michael let out a
youthful laugh, no longer worrying that he might be considered
unprofessional in some eyes. There was so obviously no need to
stick to formalities when dealing with this unorthodox Norwegian.


They waited for quite a while. Just when George had said
"Actually Michael, now I could do with that cup of coffee!"
Christopher came to get them.

"I am sorry about this George," he said. "It came completely out
of the blue to me too."

"Yes, so I understand from young Michael," George replied.
"What's the deal?"

"Keith will tell you," Christopher said.

"Keith?" George asked as they walked in.

"Yes, I'm Keith," the American said. "Keith Eberhofer. Linda and
I head two different divisions. We also have very different views
on these negotiations, and since neither of us can pull rank,
we'll have to touch base."

This was obviously the agreed compromise. The room was almost
vibrating with barely suppressed hostility. George simply said
"And people are asleep back in Texas?"

"Exactly," Keith replied. Linda murmured something indistinct.

"Not a problem Mr. Eberhofer," George said. "I can wait."

"Thank you George," the American said. "I really appreciate it."

"Not at all. Christopher invited me to lunch at his club. I have
been looking forward to that," George said dead-pan.

"Indeed," Christopher beamed. "We are running quite late. But it
is just around the corner - ladies and gentlemen, if you
please..." - he motioned towards the door.

"No thank you," Linda Johnson said curtly. "I will see you when
we reconvene tomorrow morning."


Lunch was OK. The conversation started a bit strained; George
insisted on 'not talking shop' as he put it so he got Christopher
to tell about the club and there were no further incidents.

As they were leaving the club, and with no reason to go back to
the offices since negotiations were on hold until the Texans had
been consulted, Keith Eberhofer tried to keep the communication
channels open anyway. "Can I give you a lift to your hotel
George?" he asked.

"Kind of you Keith. I really appreciate the offer, but there is
no need," George replied. "I have an apartment here and it is
really easy to get to, so don't worry."

"Is it worth it having an apartment here when you're based out of
Oslo?" Keith asked.

George smiled. "Not really, but I have a young lady living in it
- a nurse. She looks after it for me."

Keith attempted to exchange winks and envious glances with the
other members of the party. Christopher and Michael did not
return the winks.


Chapter 11

As George was walking towards the nearest taxi-rank to be driven
home, he wondered why he had referred to Hannah as 'a young lady'
and not 'my niece'. 'A psychiatrist would get a lot out of that',
he thought. 'Perhaps I ought to work it out myself.'

In a parallel development, Hannah had been debating with herself
if she ought to say 'George' from now on, not 'Uncle George'.
True, she had never thought of him in any other way, but perhaps
that was a part of the problem. 'If I want an adult relationship
with him, I have to act like an adult,' she thought.

Whatever her thoughts had been, suddenly and unexpectedly he was
there. It was her wrapping her arms around him, and she was
neither saying 'George' or 'Uncle George' - she was too busy
kissing him.

"That is by far the nicest thing that has happened to me all
day," George exclaimed. "Not that improvements were hard to come
by, but still," he added and shook his head.

"Bad huh?" she asked.

"Worse," he replied. "I really don't want to think about it -
let's go out somewhere."

"Like where?" Hannah asked.

"Oh, I dunno," he said. "An art gallery, the Zoo, anything. No,
drop that. Not the Zoo - I spent the day in one."

"I shan't ask you what happened today," she said. "But what
happens next? Over the next few days, I mean."

"Oh, I guess there will be another inconclusive meeting tomorrow
- could turn out fairly long, but then you are away all day,
aren't you?" he said.

She nodded and felt pleased he had taken note of, and cared
about, when she would be there.

"And there just may be another meeting on Wednesday - make or
break, really," he continued. "I have to go back Wednesday night.
Beth has texted me that Colin's unspeakable teacher is on the
war-path again and wants a meeting Thursday morning."

"So you won't be here Wednesday evening?" she asked with clear
disappointment in her voice.

"Oh yes I will," he replied. "I could only get a late flight
home."

"Fine," Hannah said. "Don't make any plans," she added with a
mysterious smile.


They ended up at the National Gallery. George showed her Hans
Holbein's divine portrait of Princess Christina - daughter of the
last Catholic King of Denmark and Norway and painted at the
instigation of Henry VIII. Henry had been smitten, but Christina
was not. "She is reported to have said 'If I had two heads, one
should be at the King of England's disposal',” George chuckled.

Hannah was spooked over how the princess' eyes seemed to be
following her around the gallery. "Cool girl. How old was she?"
she asked

"Christina? Barely 16 I believe," George replied.

"She looks much older!" Hannah said without thinking.

"Yes. Girls have been known to pull that trick for a long time,"
George said in a teasing voice.

"Touché," Hannah conceded. "Anyway, why is she dressed all in
black?"

"She was widowed 3 years earlier and still in mourning," George
replied.

"WHAT?" Hannah spat. "She was married at 13?"

"11 actually," George replied. "But her aunt and guardian, the
regent of the Netherlands, had stipulated that the marriage could
not be consummated before Christina started menstruating. By then
her elderly husband was too sick, so she was reputedly still a
virgin when she was widowed."

"One small mercy in an altogether gross and revolting setup!"
Hannah said.

"Yes, times were very different," George replied.

"Did she eventually remarry?" Hannah asked - still spooked by
Christina's gaze through the archway.

"Yes she did - a few years later," George replied. "You'll love
this," he added with a chuckle. "She married one Francis, Duke of
Bar."

"Never heard of him," Hannah said.

"No one has," George replied. "Except that Francis had been
betrothed to Anne of Cleves."

Hannah was stunned. "As in that Anne of Cleves?" she asked.

"Yup," George said. "The one whom Henry VIII married when
Christina kept turning him down!"

"The one who was so ugly that Henry wouldn't fuck her?" Hannah
asked - causing a middle-aged couple also in the gallery to look
up, scandalised.

"Cruel, but apt. Yes, that one," George replied. "Hans Holbein
was a touch too flattering in that portrait it is said. But
Christina was every bit as beautiful as this picture suggests
contemporary sources agree. And prettier still when not in heavy
blacks."

Hannah smiled. Then her face changed. "I suppose, compared to
that girl, that I am already really old - nearing 23 and still
not married. But then again, life-expectancy was much shorter
then - I bet she was dead before 40."

"No no," George said. "Christina lived until she was nearly 70. A
great schemer and manipulator until the day she died. She never
reclaimed the Danish/Norwegian throne though. Henry could
possibly have accomplished that for her, but the risk was too
great."

"You seem to know a lot about her?" Hannah said.

"Yes, I read a very good book years ago. Sort of a fictionalised
biography," George replied. "Very well written."

"What was it called?" Hannah asked, now genuinely interested in
this head strong renaissance girl.

"I don't know the English title," George said. "I read the
original Danish. The title was simply her name."

"How come a Norwegian would be interested in a Danish book about
a Danish princess?" Hannah teased. "I thought you hated having
been ruled by the Danes."

"Oh, we do, but not nearly as much as we hated the Swedes,"
George replied. "Besides, both Danes and Norwegians are pretty
schizophrenic about their shared past. Danes are quite ready to
claim a Norwegian naval hero as their own. And Norwegians are
proud of the pretty girl in here even if she never set foot in
Norway."


"What do you want to do for dinner?" Hannah asked as they were
leaving the Gallery when it closed at six. "I haven't done any
shopping. I know it is slack, but I was slightly under the
weather all day!"

"Dunno, something simple," George replied. "I had lunch at a
gentlemen's club."

"Sounds interesting," Hannah said.

"Not really - food wise, I mean," George said. "Very traditional
and heavy. But it was an interesting cultural experience! I
readily admit that."

"So?" Hannah asked.

"Can I make a confession?" George asked. "I'd like nothing better
than a pizza from Shad Thames."

"Pizza it is," Hannah laughed. "It is perfectly fine with me."

They went to get their pizzas and ate in - "Pizza is best piping
hot," George said to the approval of the manager.


Although it wasn't all that late when they got back to the
apartment, Hannah excused herself almost immediately. "I have to
be at work hideously early," she said. "And work through until
late - I need my beauty sleep."

"Sweetheart," George said. "You simply can't get any more
beautiful, but of course I'll let you sleep. Will it disturb you
if I watch some TV?"

"Flatterer!" Hannah smiled. "And no, of course not. That's fine."
She moved in close. "Thanks for a lovely afternoon and evening. I
just love being with you."

The kiss they exchanged was maybe a little outside the accepted
range of an avuncular caress, but otherwise George 'behaved' - to
Hannah's frustration. She went to bed just in her panties. More
or less automatically her hands drifted to her crotch and she
started fingering herself. 'Why do I have to masturbate when the
dick I want in me is less 10 meters away?' she thought. 'Perhaps
I ought to try shock therapy. Topless breakfast, perhaps.' She
came and fell asleep.


The TV-programs could not excite George and he went to bed too,
thinking of Hannah. 'Her kisses have sure changed from when she
was a little girl,' he thought. 'A lot. And her banter on the
phone is very suggestive.' He dismissed it as absurd. And then
again. 'If it wasn't Hannah, I would have sworn she was coming on
to me!'


Tuesday's meetings were indeed inconclusive. It seemed the two
combatants had received nothing besides a 'definite maybe' from
Texas. Linda Johnson still wanted to negotiate an outright
purchase of George's technology; something he firmly, but
politely, refused. Keith Eberhofer was willing to set up the main
heads of a merger agreement in which George's company would
become the security division of theirs with R&D in Norway and
management, support and sales out of London, but it was obvious
that they couldn't complete the details before the Texas main
office had finalized an in-principle position. George was
unwilling to 'show his hand' with Linda Johnson around. Besides,
in that model, he would have to be in London so much that
relocating was the only realistic solution. Did he want to do
that? Could he do that to Colin?

At least the tone was civil and constructive, but with so many
unknowns the meeting ended early. Shortly after lunch they were
out of matters that could be decided without consultation. "I
suggest we stop here," Christopher said. "But I would like you to
come again tomorrow."

"I will," George said. "But only if it is about negotiating a
merger." He looked pointedly as Linda Johnson.

"That may not be on the agenda Mr. Hamsun," she said.

"So be it. Give me a call if you want to talk on my terms,"
George said and left - with young Michael taking him to the door.

"I hope to see you again tomorrow Mr. Hamsun," he said. He
sounded sincere.

"I hope so too, Michael," George replied. "And when I asked you
to call me George, I meant it. Getting you and Christopher as
colleagues would be one of the most positive features of the
proposed merger." He shook the young man's hand firmly and walked
out to hail a taxi.


Back in the apartment George sat down with a cup coffee to think
things through. Hannah wasn't there of course; she was working
and would be home very late. He missed her. Badly. She featured a
lot in his thoughts. He would see much more of her if he moved to
London. Colin would like that too. But what about Colin? Suddenly
George had an inspiration. Many years ago Helen had suggested
that Colin ought to have at least a part of his education in an
English speaking country, preferably England. George had agreed
and made the initial contact with a prestigious public school in
Surrey. Such places are apt to be mercenary in their approach to
rich clients and over the years the Hamsuns had received many
communications from the school - what Helen had called
send-more-money letters. To stay on their sweet side, George had
more than once contributed nice sums to their various
fund-raising campaigns - quite recently in connection with some
jubilee. He decided to call in a favour, looked up the school
phone number on the net and called them.

The deputy headmaster was available. He remembered Mr. Hamsun
perfectly, or so he said. George could hear key clicks in the
background, so quite possibly he was being looked up. The
research must have been satisfactory - the tone of voice changed
from polite to very polite. The deputy headmaster was honest too
and admitted doing the computer search. "Why yes, Mr. Hamsun. I
can see from our records that young Colin will have the age to
enter 1st form next Oration Quarter. Were you and your wife
considering having him boarding with us? Our waiting lists are
very full, but perhaps there is a chance..."

"Actually, no," George said. "I would rather that he became a
day-boy. It is quite possible that Colin and I will move to
Britain. After the tragic loss of his mother, I was thinking that
boarding would be too much for him. I could take a house in the
area."

The deputy headmaster, aghast that the widowing of a wealthy
benefactor had passed unnoticed by the school - thus causing him
to drop a massive brick - recovered nobly and was most
sympathetic. "My heartfelt condolences Mr. Hamsun," he said. "I
didn't know Professor Hamsun had passed away. And yes, I think
you are quite right - boarding might not be the right option just
now. But I can assure you that there will be a day-place for
Colin."

"Excellent," George replied. "Kindly have your secretary send us
the relevant papers."

The deputy headmaster readily promised that, thanked George for
his generous contribution to the Jubilee Fund and ended the call.

'So far, so good,' George thought. 'It pays to keep your options
open.'


Chapter 12

Hannah wouldn't be home until after 10, so George decided to drop
in on Joanna and Dave. Dave was out and wouldn't be back until
late; he had an evening meeting at his school, but Joanna and the
children where home and made much of George.

George noted they all had moist hair. "Yes, we're only just back
from swimming down at the aquatic centre with Catherine's young
man," Joanna said.

"Mum!" Catherine exclaimed, colouring up beet red.

"What young man?" George asked sternly. "Is he good enough for my
Catherine?"

"He is a real sweetie," Joanna said. "Very good for Catherine and
kind to her siblings. He is even polite to Catherine's old
mother."

"You're not that old," Catherine said with a pointed look at her
mother's abdomen.

Neither the comment, the look nor the furious cease-and-desist
glare Catherine got in return were lost on George. Under the
pretext of helping Joanna making a pot of tea, George followed
her to the kitchen. "What was that about?"

"Oh George," Joanna said. "I might as well tell you, but no-one -
especially not the children - can be told this side Christmas. I
am pregnant again."

"Jo! That's wonderful," George said. "Congratulations to you all.
And I gather Catherine knows?"

"Yes she does," Joanna said, "and she is fine with it. A little
too fine with it at times. I fear she has romantic ideas about
pregnancy. She is very fond of that young man - who is actually
much too old for her. Not that I worry about him - he seems to
behave, but Catherine is one big bundle of hormones."

Comprehension dawned on George. "Is this the young man Catherine
and Hannah met that weekend?"

Joanna smiled. "So Hannah told you about it? I thought she might.
Yes, that's the one. He recovered from the shock of learning
Catherine's true age quickly enough and he's been her devoted
slave ever since. He behaves impeccably. It's Catherine who wants
to pull his swim-trunks down and impale herself on him."

"Joanna!" George exclaimed.

"We've all been young once," Joanna replied. "But I draw the line
at a 13 year old having sex."

"And so you should!" George agreed. "But perhaps you should
consider putting her on the pill anyway. On the pretence of her
having bad period pain perhaps? We did that with Anne at 14. Not
a moment too soon either, if I am not mistaken."

Joanna looked doubtful. "It would feel like we were, you know,
encouraging her to have under-age sex," she said.

"Rubbish," George replied. "Make it clear she can't and do your
best to enforce it. But spare her the heart break of an unwanted
pregnancy if she manages to coax the bloke's semen too close to
her crotch anyway. Teenagers are shockingly fertile."

"Perhaps you're right," Joanna said. "Oh George, you're the best
big brother I never had." She embraced him closely and, almost
involuntarily, his hand caressed her abdomen.

"The world's a better place for having you in it," he said
tenderly. "I am so glad you reproduce!"

George was asked to stay and eat with the family. He happily
agreed and helped preparing the meal. They had a lovely evening.
George read to Liam and Fiona in bed and joined Joanna and
Catherine for a cup of tea while they waited for Dave to return.
Well and truly over the puppy-love, Catherine was much freer and
relaxed around George, flopping down in the sofa next to him and
pulling his arm around her. "I hope you're jealous of Thomas,"
she said.

"Deadly," George replied dead-pan. "I will have to meet him,
judge if he is good enough for you and interrogate him about his
honest intentions."

"Oh, his intentions are clear enough," Catherine said. "You can
always tell with a boy - or man." She ran a hand lightly across
George's crotch.

"Ahem," her mother intoned.

Catherine giggled. "What? Just because I've worked out what boys
like?" She blatantly pulled George's hand down to her
bra-enhanced boob.

"Catherine, that's enough," her mother said quite sharply.

"I'll say," George chided. "If you act like that around men
you'll end up just like your mother."

"You told him?" Catherine asked Joanna.

"Actually, you did," George said. "Your mother simply confirmed
it."

Catherine backed off. "Sorry, didn't mean to tease."

"You did too, but that's OK", George said. "I love you, you know,
and I'm so glad you've found somebody nice."

"It was all Hannah's work," Catherine said. "You should thank
her."

"Yes," George said absentmindedly. "Hannah..." He stared blankly
into space and missed the glance exchanged between mother and
daughter.

"You should marry her," Catherine said firmly.

"Catherine!" Joanna exploded. But before any more could be said,
they heard the door open as a tired Dave came home.

Dave was happy to see George and even happier when George told
him he knew about the pregnancy and congratulated warmly. George
eagerly listened to Dave's plans for a loft conversion which he
told about while eating.

"I want to live up there," Catherine demanded.

"You can," her father agreed, "provided we get George to install
surveillance cameras everywhere."

"Sure, and plenty of sound-insulation down towards your bedroom,"
his daughter countered.

The happy banter went on for a while until George excused
himself. "I may have some important negotiations tomorrow," he
said, "so I'd better get home and have some sleep."

"What do you mean by 'may have'?" Dave asked in surprise.

"My opposite numbers are somewhat divided amongst themselves,"
George said. "So I'm not sure they will be ready to strike a deal
for a while."

"A strange world you move in," Joanna said as they saw George to
the door.

"You can say that again," George replied. "Sometimes I would much
rather be a school master raising babies."

He kissed Joanna and Catherine, shook Dave's hand warmly and set
off to the train station at a brisk pace.


Hannah was only just home when George arrived. She had gotten
changed for bed which, with a nod to the temperature outside, now
included an over-sized tee-shirt. A thin over-sized tee-shirt.
With a deep neckline. It left very little to the imagination;
George got an eye full when she came running to hug him, and he
could feel her fantastic breasts and large hard nipples very
clearly against his chest. "Where have you been?" she asked -
looking up at him with her little-girl smile. George's heart was
aching. Her beauty and her sweetness took his breath away.

"Hi sweets," he said. "I've been to see Joanna and Dave and the
kids. They send their love."

"Thanks," she said and kissed him. "How were they?"

'This is what it would be like if she was my wife,' George
thought. 'God, I would love that.' He snapped out of it. "Fine,
really fine. Dave came in late. The others were just back from
swimming with Catherine's young man when I arrived. I hadn't rung
them in advance."

"Young Thomas?" Hannah asked.

"Yes, so I gather. He wasn't there," George replied. "But he was
much talked about."

"Hmmm," Hannah just said. What that meant she left for George to
work out.

"When do you start work tomorrow?" George asked.

"Nine," Hannah replied, "and it is a short shift. I get off again
at two."

"That's great," George replied. "If you don't have to get up so
early, perhaps we could have a cup of tea?"

"Love one," Hannah said. "I'll make it," and she went to put a
kettle on. George followed her with his eyes. The rear view was
every bit as perfect as the front. He felt himself getting hard
and flopped down on the sofa to hide it just as Hannah turned her
head around. "How was your day," she called over her shoulder,
"and what happens tomorrow?"

"The short answers are 'Indecisive' and 'Undecided'," he replied.
"But I may have another meeting; if so it will be at 10."

"When will you know?" she asked.

"Dunno", he said. "Ten to ten perhaps. Can't say."

"And how long will it go for?" she asked.

"Dunno either," he replied. "But don't worry - I'll get home
before evening. Just like I promised you."

"Good," she said while readying the tea-pot.

"Can you tell me why it is so important?" he asked,

"OK," she relented. "My colleagues Stacey and Eleanor are coming
for dinner. They are both dying to meet you."

"That sounds like fun," George said. "I'm looking forward to
that. When are they coming?"

"I have invited them for 7," Hannah replied. "Stacey works until
5.30."

"Super," George said. "I don't have to leave until 9."

The kettle boiled and Hannah poured the water on the tea. They
chatted about this and that while the tea infused, then Hannah
brought the pot and mugs over to the sofa on a tray.


They drank the tea. Mostly in silence when they had finished
discussing the menu for the dinner party. It was getting late and
time to turn in. George started to get up.

"George?" Hannah started. Her voice was hesitant.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Sorry that I am so nosey," she said, "but what are those
negotiations about?"

He smiled. "They are supposed to be strictly confidential, but I
have no secrets from you. I make, or rather my company makes, a
product this American company needs. They want to buy the rights
to the product. I want them to merge our companies. Maybe."

"Why 'maybe'?" she asked,

"Because it would mean a lot of changes for a lot of people,
especially Colin and me," George replied.

"How so?" Hannah asked perplexed.

"I would have to work in London most of the time, so we would
have to move over here," George replied.

Hannah's heart was beating fast. Her first thought was positive
and excited 'He could be here all the time!' The next thought was
so disconcerting that she voiced it loud. "Does that mean that
you would have to take over the apartment?" she asked.

He smiled. "No, no way. Don't fret - if we move over here then
I'll buy a house close to where Colin goes to school. I would
never turn you out."

She smiled the heart-breaking smile. "You are so sweet to me
always," she said,

"It is practically what uncles are for!" he said flippantly.

"No George," she said firmly. "We are past that point. Way past
that point." She leant in to kiss him. She was dying for him to
put a hand on her breast. Her nipples were almost poking holes in
the tee-shirt. Instead he put a hand on her shoulder, kissed her
gently back and said good night.


Hannah silently debated the merits of 'operation topless
breakfast' when she had gone to bed. 'That man is a tough nut to
crack,' she thought.

She was wrong. George was close to cracking. 'Why didn't I caress
those breasts of hers?’ he wondered. 'She almost placed them in
my hands!'


Chapter 13

She was gone when George got up. At 9 he was dressed, had eaten
his breakfast and felt restless. He was channel-surfing on the TV
when his cell phone rang. It was Michael. "Mr. Hamsun, George I
mean," he started, "Christopher was wondering if you could come
over for a three-part meeting."

"It depends on who the third party is Michael," George replied
coolly.

"It's Keith Eberhofer," Michael replied.

"Fine!" George exclaimed. "I'll be there as soon as I can find a
taxi."

The meeting was friendly. Linda Johnson was not there. Her
absence was not mentioned, but it was obvious from the
negotiations that Keith Eberhofer had won the argument with the
top people in Texas. For most of the initial talk, only George,
Christopher and Keith were present. Late morning Michael was
called in to take notes and another lower ranked American was
asked to check up some details. They ate lunch at the negotiating
table since both George and Keith had a deadline. Around 4 they
had a document both sides liked. "I will take this straight to
the Board in Texas tomorrow evening your time," Keith said.

"Fine," George replied. "And I will put it before my share
holders already tonight."

"Can you get hold of them that soon?" Keith asked.

"Oh yes," George said. "I am meeting them just before midnight."

Keith left highly impressed and rushed off to the airport with
his contingent.

"Who are those shareholders?" Christopher asked when he and
Michael were alone with George.

"My daughters," George chuckled. "They inherited their mother's
shares."

Michael and Christopher were still laughing several minutes later
when George left.


The two friends emerged from the tunnel at London Bridge Station.
The young women were both nurses, but you couldn't tell - they
were dressed up for a night out. They crossed Tooley Street.
"Let's go through here," Stacey said. "We're a little bit early."
She let them into The Hays Gallery with its many fancy shops.

When they emerged at the waterfront they turned right and started
walking towards Tower Bridge. "This is a nice area!" Eleanor
exclaimed. "Fancy being able to afford living here!"

"Just wait to you see Shad Thames," Stacey said. "It is
gorgeous."

When they passed under the Tower Bridge road and entered Shad
Thames, Eleanor had to agree. She was gaping at the famous
walkways which criss-cross high above their heads as they walked
along the street towards their new colleague's apartment.
"Hannah's George must have serious money!" Eleanor said. "I knew
he was spoiling her, but this is amazing."

They found the right door and were buzzed in. When they got to
the apartment the door was opened by a well-kept middle aged
grey-haired gentleman in a business suit. He smiled a welcoming
smile. "You must be Stacey and Eleanor," he said. "Hannah has
told me so much about you. I should be able to tell who is who."
He turned to Stacey. "You must be Stacey; that hair colour gives
you away." He shook her hand "I'm George Hamsun."

"How do you do Mr. Hamsun," Stacey said. The man's handshake was
firm and confidence inspiring.

"And you must be Eleanor," George continued. "Not a very
impressive deduction of course now that Stacey has been
indentified, but I would have recognized you from Hannah's
description anyway - the harebell blue eyes and the dimples are
every bit as characteristic as Stacey's copper beaches hair."

His smile was warm and his grey eyes locked with Eleanor's as he
shook her hand. "I'm so pleased to meet you Mr. Hamsun," Eleanor
said, felling quite giddy. "Hannah has told us a lot about you
too, you know."

"Please do call me George," George said and let go of Eleanor's
hand. "I'm sure she has, and I'm sure she has been much too kind
in her descriptions. But do come in. Let me take your coats."

They entered the main room and Hannah came running over from the
kitchen area. "Stacey, Eleanor! Welcome. Don't you look
gorgeous?"

"Hi Hannah, don't you!" Stacey replied. "And what a fabulous
place you have!"

"Yes," Hannah agreed. "George is much too good to me."

"I've never been in this part of town before," Eleanor said. "I
didn't even know this street existed."

"Well, it does," Hannah said. "And I defy anyone to find a nicer
place to live in London."

She gave her friends a quick tour of the apartment while George
got out the pre-dinner drinks.


The dinner was very pleasant. George was at his most charming,
most urbane mood and Hannah's friends were more than able to
understand her infatuation. They noted that Hannah and George had
shared the cooking, and they were smitten by his old-fashioned
table manners - he would invariably stand up if either of the
young women did. He asked them about their work and told them
about his family in Oslo and especially his young son.

Much too soon it was approaching 9PM and George excused himself;
he had to leave in order to catch his plane. He politely shook
Stacey's and Eleanor's hands, declared himself delighted at
having made their acquaintance and kissed Hannah before leaving.

When George had left, Stacey and Eleanor put Hannah through a
gentle 3rd degree.

"Gosh, he is gorgeous, isn't he?" Eleanor exclaimed.

"George?" Hannah said. "Oh yeah. When I was a little girl I
wanted to be married to him!"

"And you don't now? I mean now that he is a widower and available
as it were!" Stacey asked.

"I don't know that he is. He is as sweet to me as ever though,"
Hannah replied.

"Has he ever, you know, come on to you?" Stacey asked.

"Oh no, he is much too much of a gentleman to do that!" Hannah
said. She didn't tell them about her provocations. "He is always
correct to a fault."

Stacey detected the regret in Hannah's voice and simply had to
ask "What would you do if he did?"

Hannah smiled - she thought she heard a noise in the hall and on
the pretext of fetching something in the kitchen area, she spoke
quite loudly. "That's simple," she replied to her friend's
question. "If George ever made a pass at me then I would spread
my legs like a good girl and have his babies."

"Good for you," Stacey laughed.

"Good for George!" Eleanor added and they all giggled.

Out in the hall, George - who had returned to get a bag with a
present for Colin that he had forgotten - heard Hannah's reply
clearly. Her expressed desire predictably caused an immediate
tightening of his trousers. He did not want to let the young
women know he was there and quietly left the apartment once more.
'If that's how she feels about me then I should do something
about it,' he thought to himself in the taxi to the airport. 'But
what on earth are my children going to say?'


His children had a lot to say some hours later. Well, his oldest
daughter first - Colin was asleep and Anne was looking after him
while Beth went to meet George in the airport. "You didn't have
to do that sweetheart," George said when she embraced him in the
arrival hall.

"We have to talk," Beth said and dragged George off towards the
parking house, "and soon."

"Yes, we do," George replied. "The Texans have made an offer that
I ought not to turn down."

"That wasn't what I meant," Beth said, "but OK - tell me about
that first."

George did. He summarised the agreement that had been worked out.
Beth, every bit as sharp witted as her father and late mother,
came to exactly the same conclusion as George had: "If you accept
that then you would have to move to London and take Colin with
you."

"Exactly," George said, not particularly surprised she saw it
that way. But her continuation threw him.

"Well, that's great Dad," Beth said. "Colin so needs to get out
of that school. You should marry Hannah and settle over there."

George nearly walked in to a pillar. "Say what?" he sputtered.

"I said you should marry Hannah," Beth said. "You love each
other, don't you?"

"Well, yes, I," George stammered.

"Anyway, we can talk about that later," Beth said when they got
to the car. "But first we need to talk about Colin. We kept him
home from school today - that bitch of a teacher tore into him
again yesterday. He was crushed and humiliated."

George was seething with anger. "If only we could prove it," he
said.

"Indeed!" Beth said with a grin. "Just wait until my clever
sister tells you about the little stunt she pulled off!"

George tried in vain to get Beth to tell, but she wouldn't. And
he didn't have to wait long - they arrived in down-town Oslo at
his daughters' apartment shortly after. Anne had made tea and
wasted very little time launching into the story once they were
seated.

"You know how Colin said Ms. Pettersen is always making
disparaging comments about you to him in class?" she asked.

"I know," George replied. "But she has always denied it when I
complained about it - and the principal backs her up to the hilt.
We can't prove it, short of interrogating Colin's class mates -
and I would never do that."

"Well, you don't have to," Anne said triumphantly. "I've got
proof!"

"How?" George asked.

"Simple!" his younger daughter replied. "I bugged my brother."

"You did WHAT?" George spluttered.

"I put my hacked iPod and a good microphone in his school bag and
made it record everything that was said throughout Colin's school
day," Anne said coolly. "It is not broadcast quality obviously,
but Ms. Pettersen's tirades against 'selfish businessmen who
neglect their children' in general and you specifically were
captured loud and clear."

"Anne, that's illegal - it would never stand up in court," George
said aghast.

"Who cares about court?" Anne said. "That's not what it is for."

"But it is also highly unethical!" George said.

"So is Maud Pettersen's merciless persecution of my little
brother," Anne shot back. "That bitch needs to be slapped. And
hard. If you don't use it I will!"

"But I can't use that kind of material!" George protested.

"Of course you can," Beth interjected. "Just listen to what
Anne's device captured."

Anne pressed the 'Play' button on the Media Center and the
petulant voice of Miss Pettersen was heard on the HiFi speakers.
What she was saying to the audibly distressed Colin made George
furious.

"Enough!" he exploded. "I was wrong. It can and will be used. I
want that cow sacked. And her unspeakable boss. And then I'll
take Colin out of school and move to England."

"Good idea Dad," Anne said. "Then you could marry Hannah."

George was gob-smacked. "You too?" he asked. "Your sister
suggested that in the airport!"

"Dad nearly walked into a pillar in the parking house," Beth
giggled.

"Actually, I worked it out first!" Anne said.

"Actually, you didn't," Beth said. "Mrs. Åserud did. You said so
yourself."

"Vera?!" George asked astonished.

"Yes," Anne said. "Don't think you can hide anything from your
daughters and your secretary. And I bet you Joanna has got you
sussed out too."

"Listen," George said. "I'm getting all kinds of hints from
Hannah, and truth be told I am tempted. I do love her, I'm not in
denial about that, but changing roles from uncle and niece to
lovers is not all that simple. And I need to work a lot of other
things out too. Including what I am going to do about the company
and what is best for Colin. But I can't say how happy I am at
having your support."

"Sure Dad. Work it out, but don't overplay the 'uncle' bit. She
calls you that, but she's not a blood relative of yours,
remember?" Beth said. "Anyway, if the deal with the Americans is
good then go ahead with it."

"What deal?" her younger sister asked, so George explained the
merger plans once more.

"I need the stock-holder's approval to do that, of course,"
George concluded. "That means you two."

"Sure Dad," Anne said. "I agree with my sister. Go ahead."


Chapter 14

"So you categorically deny that you have said anything to my son
that could be construed as disparaging?" George asked Ms.
Pettersen. She was reeling from the way this father had taken
complete control over this early morning meeting. Parents weren't
supposed to do that! They were supposed to listen to what the
teachers were telling them.

And it wasn't like he was aggressive or making allegations. He
was quietly asking about his son's complaints. Like the claims of
a 12 year old boy could be trusted! Luckily Maud Pettersen
believed she knew just how to handle this. "Absolutely Mr.
Hamsun. Of course not. But it is a sad fact that neglected
children frequently make up completely groundless allegations. It
must be seen in context - as a desperate cry for attention." She
delivered that line well, she thought. It was straight out of her
thesis. Her supervisor had commended her for it.

The principal assumed a benevolent facial expression to indicate
he thought so too. He was on the lookout for a skirt now that the
third Mrs. Engelhart had made herself scarce and little Ms.
Pettersen would do charmingly. She had rejected his advances so
far, but he wasn't giving up. "Of course not Mr. Hamsun," he
said. "Maud would do no such thing. She has my fullest confidence
and I am sure her analysis comes close to the core of the
problem..."

Before he could go any further, which he would happily have done
seeing the rapt attention and surprised gratitude in the young
teacher's eyes, George cut him off. "Then you would perhaps be
kind enough to explain this?" and he activated his notebook's
media player.

The recording shocked these listeners in much the same way as the
playback in London the other day had done. Maud Pettersen was
trying to swallow her hand. "That recording is illegal!" she
faltered, George just looked at her with something bordering on
pity.

The principal looked like he had suffered a stroke. "Who has
heard this recording?" he managed to ask.

"So far only my daughters and me," George said pleasantly. "But
of course all of Colin's class mates heard it being said. My
lawyers will find a copy in their in-tray when they get to work
shortly." Suddenly the pleasantness was gone. "And so will the
editors of Verdens Gang in an hour or so unless you can give me
compelling reasons not to. The paper would love this story, you
know. Motherless boy, hard working father, devoted older sisters.
Good looking devoted sisters, I should add." His sudden harsh
tone of voice and his pointed look at Ms. Pettersen's plain
features made her shrink.

The mere mention of the name of the notorious tabloid newspaper -
who likes to call themselves Norway's answer to The Sun - drained
all colour from the principal's face. "You will appreciate this
comes as a complete shock to me. I will need some time to
assimilate the implications, but I can assure you Colin will not
be exposed to anything like that ever again. It will not be
possible."

This was as close as he could come to saying - without involving
the union rep - that Maud Pettersen would be removed from her
class-teacher duties so George let him off the hook. "Excellent
principal Engelhart." he said. "I'll hold you to that." He got up
and left without so much as a nod to either of them.

When the door had closed behind George the principal turned to
his hapless teacher. She opened her mouth to speak, but he lifted
a hand to stop her. "Do you want to keep your job?" he asked
brutally. She nodded in fear. "This year's Christmas Party is
next Friday," he said. "It should be interesting to find out how
good you are at sucking dick."


The next few weeks leading up to Christmas was busy for everyone.
The Texans had several objections to the draft proposal so Keith,
George and a host of company lawyers were hard at work getting
the wrinkles ironed out. Unable to make a final decision, George
refrained from discussing the matter with Hannah, but he called
her frequently and he had resumed sending his funny little
e-mails to her. She felt happier than she had been for a long
time. Not just from George's attention but Dave and Joanna had
invited her for Christmas, and Professor Rutherford had hinted
that a promotion was on the cards.


There had been a joint meeting of the senior staff of both wards.
"The statistics are just in," the professor said. "The survival
and success rates of 'Left Ward' are on par with the best in the
country, despite our hospital getting the most complicated cases.
Well done indeed!"

"Thank you professor," Dr. Hamilton-Smythe smirked - as if the
success rate was his personal accomplishment.

"Now, 'Right Ward' is doing even better," the professor said.
"Especially during the last few months."

"That must be a statistical fluke!" Dr. Hamilton-Smythe exclaimed
with a forced laugh.

"I don't think so," the professor said. "The difference is small
but significant and it coincides with a particular new member of
staff joining us."

"Spare us!" Dr. Hamilton-Smyth said derisively. "Don't attribute
a random change in the numbers to the Ice Maiden joining."

Eleanor who deputised for the chief matron cut him down to size.
"Oh knock it off Greg. Just because the girl is sensible enough
to be unimpressed with your macho bravura doesn't mean she
doesn't like real men. I know she does. The man she has set her
mind on is gem - I've met him. But that's beside the point. She's
the best neo-natal nurse we've ever had and she's inspiring all
her colleagues to do better all the time."

"I agree," Professor Rutherford said. "I will recommend that
Nurse Westlock is promoted."


Christmas with Joanna and Dave was wonderful. George knew that
Hannah would be there and had sent a present to their address. He
had managed to track down the English version of the book about
the princess from the National Gallery - 'In the Courts of Power'
it was called - and found a beautiful first edition of it.
Catherine asked what it was, so Hannah told her about the visit
to the Gallery and about the princess. "Jeez," Catherine said.
"She was married at 11 - and Mum won't even let Thomas sleep
over!"

"Well, you know what can happen if a boy sleeps over in your bed
- just look at your Mum," Hannah whispered with a sly grin.
Joanna actually wasn't visibly pregnant yet - she was less than 3
months along and the younger children still didn't know, but
Joanna and Dave had told Hannah on arrival. Partly to explain why
Joanna wouldn't be drinking any alcohol, and partly because they
were so happy and were bursting to share the news.

Hannah shared her friends' joy - but at the same time she was
more than a little envious. She was feeling a strong urge to be
pregnant herself. She knew enough not to say so to Catherine -
Joanna had also whispered her concern about Catherine's
unrealistic romantic ideas.

Catherine reluctantly grinned back "I suppose. But 3 years is
such a long time to wait. What if he finds someone else who is
older and willing?"

"If he does then he wasn't good enough for you sweets," Hannah
said firmly. "Simple as that."

The subject of pregnancy wasn't mentioned again. But when Hannah
took leave with her hosts, she hugged Joanna closely and almost
involuntarily her hand caressed Joanna's abdomen. The similarity
to George's reaction hit Joanna forcefully - she was convinced
George and Hannah ought to get together. She almost spoke her
mind, but the moment passed with the arrival of Liam for an extra
farewell hug and she just waved Hannah off.


On the evening of Boxing Day, Hannah's doorbell rang just a few
minutes after she had come home from her shift. Since she was
occasionally plagued by drunks pressing every button, she
answered the door phone with a non-committal "Yes?"

This was not a drunk. "Hannah, it's Colin. Can I come in?"

"Colin?!" Hannah squealed. "Yes of course you can! Where is your
dad?" She pressed the button.

"Thank you," Colin said - always polite to a fault. "He is just
parking the car and bringing the suitcases, but he let me run on
ahead."

Although Hannah had a million questions she restrained herself so
her young second cousin could get in rather than being
interrogated through the door phone. He flew up the stairs and
she wrapped him in a tight embrace. "Hello Poster Boy!" she said.
"What a lovely surprise. What's the deal with a car?"

The rental car was unusual; cars are a nuisance in London and
George always used public transport or taxis unless he had a
specific need for a car, like when they set up the apartment. "We
are going out to look at some houses," Colin said.

"Are you moving over here?!" Hannah squealed again. "Fantastic!"

"Yes," Colin said happily. "I am starting in a really cool school
next autumn and Dad says we will buy a house near by."


George appeared with the suitcases. Hannah flew in his arms as
soon as he had put them down. "Colin just told me!" she
exclaimed. "You are really moving over here!!"

"We are," George said when he had finished kissing her. "The
merger is going head. We're moving the company headquarters to
England and Colin will go to school in Surrey from next autumn."

"What happens until then?" Hannah asked.

"We're finding a tutor so Colin can get up to specs with the
English curriculum," George replied. "I've put his new school on
to that one - they think they will be able to find an Old Boy who
is taking a gap year."

"That sounds like a good idea," Hannah said. George and Colin had
taken their coats off and she put her arms around their waists.
"Come on in - I was just going to make myself some supper. I'm
afraid I've only got bread and cheese; I didn't want much after
yesterday. Honestly I felt like the stuffed turkey after eating
Christmas Dinner over at Joanna and Dave's."

"We can supplement with a side of smoked Norwegian salmon,"
George said and returned to the hall to retrieve the fish from a
special duty-free cool bag.

"Yum!" Hannah said and got on with making tea


"Tell me about the houses." Hannah said over supper.

"Well, the one we like the best from the pictures is an old
rectory only a few miles from Colin's school," George said. "We
have an appointment to inspect that tomorrow at 11."

"Ooh!” Hannah said, and then checked herself.

"Are you free then, by any chance?" George asked mildly.

"Uh huh," Hannah nodded eagerly.

"I get the feeling Hannah would like to come, don't you?" George
said addressed to Colin.

The boy laughed. "Yes, Sherlock, I think you're right."

"The other possibilities are further away from the school and not
so convenient for trains to the City," George said, "but if the
Old Rectory doesn't live up to expectations then we have
appointments to look at them the day after tomorrow."

"When?" Hannah asked. "I have an afternoon/evening shift."

George smiled. "In that case you would miss one of them, but
Colin and I are really hoping the Old Rectory works out. It is
huge." He got out the plans from his briefcase.

"Gosh, it is too! It has a lot of bedrooms, hasn't it?" Hannah
said.

"Yes it does," George agreed. "Rectors often had a lot of
children." Their eyes met.


Colin started yawning and was sent off to bed. George and Hannah
talked on for quite a while, but then decided it was time to
sleep. As they were clearing away in the kitchen area, Hannah
told him about the possible promotion. "I always knew you were
brilliant," George said. "I'm glad your boss knows too!"

"You are so sweet," Hannah said, moving in close. They embraced.
"George," she said with her most alluring smile. "Don't you think
you risk waking up poor Colin if you sleep in the same room?"

"Possibly. And you have a better idea perhaps?" he smiled back.
"I bet you do."

She was now practically plastered to him, and he had to mobilise
all his resolve to not make love to her right there on the
kitchen floor. "Hannah, my love, my true love. I adore you and
want to be with you always. I want you in the worst way. And
practically everyone around us is fine with that. I've talked to
the girls - they are just happy for us and urging me on. But I
still haven't told Colin, and I don't want him to find out by
finding us in your bed."

Hannah was elated. 'He loves me too! He wants me!' she thought,
dizzy with happiness. "I understand," she said. "The girls are
adults, Colin is not. He needs to be told in the right way. But
please George, don't take too long!"

He kissed her. For the first time ever he kissed her not as an
uncle but as a lover. His hands found her breasts and squeezed
them gently. She groaned into his mouth. "I won't take long," he
said when they broke for air. "I hope this will be the last time
I ever have to sleep alone when I am around you."

"I'll hold you to that," she said. "I'll do everything to ensure
you won't want to!" Her hand was rubbing his erection.

He kissed her on the nose. "Better stop now. And gosh, I hope
Colin is asleep, or I will have to explain the tent in my pants!"

Hannah laughed and then - reluctantly - left his embrace. But she
was walking on air going into her bedroom. 'YES! I've got him, he
is MINE!' she thought repeatedly before falling asleep.


Chapter 15

The Old Rectory was everything they had hoped it would be. The
grounds were charming even though the garden was obviously
dormant for the winter. The house itself was spacious and
everything was in very good condition - it could essentially be
lived in at once. While George and the real estate agent went
through the ground floor, Colin and Hannah checked the many rooms
upstairs. "I could live here!" Hannah exclaimed.

"I wish you would," Colin said wistfully.

"Would you?" Hannah asked surprised.

The boy nodded shyly. "I would love that."

"Let's talk to your dad about it then," Hannah said with a little
smile. An idea was forming in her mind.

"Are you serious?" Colin gaped.

"Absolutely," Hannah replied. "But let's wait until the agent has
left, shall we?"

Colin agreed. He had not expected that reaction to what was
merely a slip of the tongue. He was highly intrigued.


The agent was intrigued too - by the 'family'. The boy called the
distinguished foreign client 'Dad', while the extremely good
looking young woman called him 'George'. A 'younger model',
perhaps, but neither of them wore rings. Perhaps Norwegians
didn't. Only, the young woman's English sounded different from
the males'. The agent wasn't good at accents, but the young woman
sometimes sounded like someone out of 'Neighbours'. Anyway,
whoever they were, she sensed quickly that there was no need to
put on the 'hard sale pitch' and mentally she notched this off as
a certain sale.

She wasn't disappointed. "My solicitor will send you our formal
offer by close of business tomorrow," George said when they had
been round the property twice. "We can settle very quickly and
would be willing to take possession essentially immediately."

"I am sure my clients would be agreeable to that. Are you
handling the financing yourself or can I interest you in our
competitive rates?" the agent asked. She could get a handsome
commission if she brokered the financing, but she sensed this
client would not need her services.

Once more she was spot on. "Thanks, but no thanks," George
replied. "We don't need a mortgage."

The agent kept her composure, but she was impressed. Such sales
were rare at the moment. The Old Rectory had been on the market
for over two years. The heirs after the previous owners had
dropped the original estate agents and contacted her. They had
been very reluctant to 'adjust the price' as the euphemism goes,
but had finally agreed to set it to her recommended level and
now, just two weeks after taking over, she had sold it for the
new asking price. She felt pretty pleased with herself. After the
boom years where every Tom, Dick and Harry called themselves real
estate agents and properties sold themselves, times were tough
now. Only those who really knew the market - and worked hard to
help sellers set the right price, not the highest - could
succeed.


The agent drove off. "I suggest we have a look at the village and
see if we can get a bite somewhere," George said.

Colin, at 12 and continually hungry from a prolonged growth
spurt, lit up. "Great idea," he said. "I'm starving!"

The village wasn't big and it being Christmas the selection was
limited but they found one open cafe that served lunch. When the
serving girl had delivered their food, Hannah winked at Colin
then turned to his father. "George," she said in a conspiratorial
voice. "Colin had a suggestion."

"Yes?" George said - slightly puzzled. Colin usually spoke up for
himself.

"Colin said he would like me to live at the Old Rectory too,"
Hannah said.

"Did you?" George said, looking at Colin who started to go
slightly pink.

"Uh huh," he faltered, looking down.

"You know what?" George said. "I've had the same idea myself. I
would love having Hannah living with us."

"Really?" Colin asked excitedly and now dared to look at his
father.

"Really," George replied with a big smile. He took the plunge.
"Listen, I know there are many of them in the new house, but
Hannah moving in with us would not require an extra bedroom."

"At least not right away," Hannah added, picking up the thread at
once. "In time we might get to use a lot of those rooms though."

It took some time for the implications of that to sink in. Colin
was a quick-witted boy, but this was adult stuff way outside his
experience. Like George, Hannah marvelled at the chance of
presenting their relationship in this way. She studied Colin's
face closely. You could see and almost hear the little cog-wheels
in his mind spinning. She was - nervously, she had to admit -
looking for the boy's initial reaction when comprehension dawned,
as she was sure it would.

She need not have worried. At all. A smile, so heartbreakingly
sweet and full of joy that it brought tears to Hannah's eyes,
formed on Colin's face. "You mean you and Hannah, I mean..."
Colin stopped - looking from his father to Hannah and then back
while the pink returned to his face.

George held his son's gaze and nodded.

"And you would have, I mean, I would have, eh..." Colin started.

"Little brothers and sisters?" Hannah completed the sentence for
him. "Yes Colin. That's the idea. And soon." She looked sideways
at George with a smile.

"Cool!" Colin exclaimed. "That is so cool. Oh wow! When did you,
I mean how long have you?" Once more he found it difficult to
formulate the question.

George smiled. "Forever and just now. It's a little bit
complicated." He grinned. "Come to think of it, I haven't even
asked!"

"Nor have you," Hannah said, cocking her head.

George turned to Hannah. "Hannah, you know I love you. Will you
marry me and look after Colin and me and be the mother of Colin's
little brothers and sisters?"

The answer came promptly and without hesitation. "I will George,
I love you too."

The simple meal became very festive.


Colin needed to use the toilet before leaving which gave George
and Hannah a few moments in relative privacy. "I ought to
apologize. That is most certainly not how I had imagined I would
declare my love for you and propose," George said with a bemused
grin. "In the presence of Colin. And I don't even have a ring for
you or anything."

"It was brilliant," Hannah replied. "Brilliant and very romantic.
When Colin blurted out that he would like me to live with you we
solved a lot of problems. And anyway, I know I'm getting a
'package deal' - you couldn't possibly marry anyone who didn't
absolutely love and adore Colin too."

They were still kissing when Colin returned. "Can we leave when
you've finished that?" he said coyly.

"We won't 'finish that' anytime soon," his father retorted. "But
we may keep it more private. I'm moving in to Hannah's room
tonight."

"Cool - then I get our room to myself," Colin replied - and
demonstrating that adult themes were not completely foreign to
him he added "If you are too noisy I'll just put on my iPod."

"Colin!" Hannah exclaimed. "Where did that come from?"

He grinned. "I spent a week in Anne and Beth's apartment. I slept
on the sofa. The living room is right next to Anne's room and her
new boyfriend Tord visited one night..."

George hastened to stop him. "I think that falls in the too much
information category."

"Sure," Colin said. "But you promised me siblings. And I know
they are not brought by storks."


They all laughed as they were leaving the cafe and George nearly
collided with a woman of around forty who was trying to get a
pram in the door - a manoeuvre she obviously had very little
practise in executing. As George was politely apologising and
assisting, the woman spotted Hannah and uttered a girlish
"Hannah! - Nurse Westlock, I mean. How wonderful to see you!"

Hannah looked up "Mrs. Phillips! Oooh! You have gotten him home!"

"Yes we have! Yesterday evening. This is my first time out with
him," Mrs. Phillips said, "And please do call me Irene."

"I am so happy for you Irene," Hannah said. She looked at the
tiny baby in the pram who was peacefully asleep. "Hullo
Alexander! Aren't you a gorgeous boy?"

"What brings you here?" Mrs. Phillips asked.

Hannah smiled widely. "I am here with -" she hesitated; then said
it for the first time " - my fiancé George Hamsun and his son
Colin. George, this is Mrs. Irene Phillips - mother of baby
Alexander. He may be very small, but he is one of our big
successes at the neo-natal ward."

"I am so pleased to meet you Mr. Hamsun," Mrs. Phillips said.
"Without Hannah, Alexander wouldn't be here today. Your fiancée
is a saint - look after her well!"

"We intend to, although I'm sure it will be mainly Hannah looking
after Colin and me," George smiled.

"Do you live nearby?" Mrs. Phillips asked.

"Not yet," George replied, "but we have just made a purchase
offer for the Old Rectory."

"We shall be neighbours then!" Mrs. Phillips said with another
excited squeal. As an afterthought she added "But isn't the Old
Rectory rather big for just the three of you?"

"We don't intend to remain just the three of us Irene," Hannah
smiled.

Mrs. Phillips beamed. In a conspiratorial whisper to Hannah she
said "We might be pregnant together. Hamish - Professor
Rutherford that is, has said it would be OK for Alistair and me
to try for a sibling for Alexander and soon. With the new
treatment I should be able to carry the next baby closer to
term."

"Lovely," Hannah said, shook Mrs. Phillips hand and joined George
and Colin who had moved on to the car.

"Well Saint Hannah," George said with a grin. "Shall we start the
journey back to London?"

"Oi you!" Hannah laughed.

Before going home they went to a jeweller's shop where George
bought Hannah an engagement ring - a very simple white gold
design with a large solitaire diamond. The jeweller was used to a
bit of everything in his trade but was nevertheless taken by the
romantic scene. The young woman seemed to be completely lost in
love when the grey haired gentleman put the ring on her finger.
An unusual couple for sure - and a big pre-teen boy thrown in as
well, but there was a calm certainty about them. 'I don't expect
them in a divorce court ever,' the jeweller thought.


"Damn - I simply can't ring Mum and Dad now," Hannah said when
they were back in the apartment. "It is 2 in the morning; they
would have a fit if I rang, thinking something was horribly
wrong."

"You'll just have to wait a few hours," George said, as always
very practical. "You can call them after dinner."

"After dinner I have other plans!" Hannah said and made a
movement with her hips that clearly indicated what those plans
were. They were practically plastered to each other and Colin,
busy with the game console, wasn't looking.

"OK, OK, OK," George said. "Tomorrow morning will be fine for
their time zone."


They rang Anne and Beth - who declared themselves thrilled and
happy for George and Hannah but not particularly surprised. They
cheerfully accepted an invitation to come to an engagement party
on New Year's Eve - provided George coughed up the tickets. That
ended up having to be business class, but George couldn't care
less.

Joanna, Dave and the kids had been planning a quiet New Year at
home but accepted the invitation with glee and many
congratulations. Hannah knew Stacey couldn't come since she had
the evening shift, but she would ask Eleanor at work tomorrow.
George contacted Christopher and Michael. They both declined,
pleading prior engagements. That was with each other - something
George had suspected, but apparently his two new colleagues were
not quite ready to 'come out' yet.

They also called George's London solicitor who promised to handle
the purchase of the house and arranged to meet George the
following day.

Despite these activities the afternoon seemed to drag on. They
cooked dinner together and kept touching and kissing all the
time. After dinner they watched a movie with Colin. OK, Colin
watched the movie. George and Hannah were too busy making out
like they were teenagers. At the end of the movie Hannah got up
"I'll get ready for bed," she said. "Good night Colin."

"Good night stepmother," Colin said with an impish grin.

"Don't you dare call me that, or I'll turn into an evil
stepmother!" Hannah retorted in mock outrage.

"You couldn't even if you tried!" Colin taunted with an even
bigger grin.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence," Hannah said happily and
kissed the boy.

She turned to George. "Give me ten minutes. But not a second
longer!" She sent him a smouldering look.

"OK love," George said - hoping that his straining dick would
remain unnoticed by Colin.

Colin noticed but he didn't comment. Together they cleared up
after evening tea, then George sent Colin off to bed. "Goodnight
my boy," he said. "Sleep tight."

"You too," Colin replied.

"I will," his father said. 'But not anytime soon,' he thought and
went to the master bedroom.


Chapter 16

The menial tasks of clearing up had naturally made George's dick
soften, but the sight that met him in the bedroom returned so
much blood to his groin that it threatened to rip open his
trousers. Hannah was lying on the bed naked, clean and inviting
after a shower. Her sex was swollen and glistening with
secretions.

"That is the prettiest pussy I have ever seen," George said. "It
looks yummy - good enough to eat!"

"Does it?" Hannah asked nervously. "I've never tried that."

"You poor deprived child!" George exclaimed and dived in.


In the next room Colin heard Hannah's howls. He was smiling to
himself, recollecting the episode in his sisters' apartment. He
had been woken up by a similar noise and very nearly ran to
'rescue' Anne - who, he was sure, was being murdered. But at the
last moment he realised his sister was yelling "Yes, yes, yes!"
and decided to stay where he was. The next morning at breakfast
Beth made Tord and Anne apologise for the noise, but both had
goofy grins on their faces and looked too happy to be
convincingly bashful.

Hannah's howling was every bit as enthusiastic as Anne's had
been. When it finished, Colin rolled over expecting to fall
asleep. But a few minutes later the howling started again -
George was continuing his oral onslaught on Hannah who was now
experiencing an even more bone shattering climax.

Colin found his iPod and put on some fairly loud music. It didn't
help much. When the fourth round of howling started Colin moved
over to other bed on the opposite side of the room. 'Dad must be
really good at it,' he thought.


Hannah though so too. In all the time she and Greg had been
together she had never experienced an orgasm with him. Now she'd
had at least four with George, and he was still fully dressed!
Needing a break, she pointed that fact out to George who grinned
and stripped. Hannah was stunned. Not only was George slimmer
than he'd ever been - that she had known since she came to London
- but he was incredibly fit. His body certainly didn't look like
that of a nearly fifty year old. His stomach muscles were very
well defined - actually he was sporting a bona fide 'six pack'
and his dick was bigger - much bigger - than Greg's.

George got back on the bed and started licking Hannah from her
pussy and upwards. When he got to her left nipple he suckled it
in much the same he had treated her clit and the sensation was
incredible. To Hannah's amazement she realised she was close to
climaxing again and when George swapped breast and did the same
to her right nipple she actually came.

He moved upwards, kissing her on her throat, her chin, her mouth.
She could feel his dick on her pussy and despite still coming
down from the orgasm she felt slightly apprehensive. The first
time with Greg had been very painful. She had expected that, but
it had never stopped being uncomfortable having him enter her; it
wouldn't be a sharp pain, but still unpleasant. And George was so
much bigger!

To her amazement, there was no pain and no discomfort. Sure, she
was tight and she really felt she was being filled by George, but
it was a wonderful feeling. Her body was so ready for him. Before
she knew it he had bottomed out in her, their pubic bones meshing
and stimulating her sensitive clit. When he slowly withdrew and
entered her again she knew this was going to bring her off in a
major way - much bigger than the oral orgasms.

George established a rhythm that matched the water-bed and in
just minutes Hannah reached her plateau. Vaguely mindful that she
had already been quite loud she 'muffled' herself in George
shoulder and let the continuous stream of orgasms wash over her.

She completely lost count of the climaxes or sense of anything
except her pulsing womb. Far, far away she felt George go rigid.
Instinctively she locked her legs around him to pull him even
closer and she sensed more than felt him deliver his semen as
deep in her as possible. Rationally speaking you cannot know, but
like many women before her Hannah knew that they had just created
new life. The thought overwhelmed her with happiness.

George rolled off of her, pulled her close and in a few minutes
they both drifted off to a blissful sleep.

Sometime during the night they awoke - just - and made love again
lying on their sides and gently rocking towards each other. And
mid-morning, Hannah mounted George's 'morning wood' and rode him
to another shattering orgasm before she reluctantly left the bed
to get ready to go to work.


'Dad looks just as goofy and happy as Tord did,' Colin thought
when George appeared in his dressing gown to make breakfast while
Hannah showered. Colin was watching TV and had fixed himself
something to eat. 'This sex-thing must be nice. They don't teach
you that in school.' All he did say was "Morning Dad!"

"Morning Son," George replied. "Slept well?"

"After a while," Colin replied drily. He let that sink in,

George opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head instead and
got on with the breakfast. Colin again watched TV. After a few
minutes he took up the thread. "Listen, do you think I could have
the other bedroom - the one that is an office right now?"

"Were we that loud?" George asked.

"Uh huh," Colin confirmed. "Well, Hannah was - I didn't hear you
nearly as much."

George had the good grace to blush. "We'll see what we can work
out. Anyway, it won't be for long - soon we'll move down to the
Old Rectory and we can have bedrooms at opposite ends of the
house."

"Cool!" Colin said and returned his attention to the TV.

"What was that about?" Hannah said - she'd walked in and only
heard the 'opposite ends' bit.

"Believe me honey; you do not want to know!" George replied.

Hannah got it anyway. "Were we that loud?" she whispered.

"Uh huh," George confirmed in a low voice. "Well, Colin says one
of us was..."

That elicited a massive blush from Hannah. "Sorry Colin!" she
said loudly.

"Huh?" Colin said, looking up.

"About the noise, I mean," Hannah said blushing even more.

"No worries," Colin said in perfect Australian English with the
impish grin spreading from ear to ear.


George and Hannah ate breakfast. "When do you have to leave?"
George asked.

"In about an hour, but I really must phone Mum and Dad," Hannah
replied. "I don't want them to discover it from my change of
status on Facebook."

"Of course!" George agreed. "Do you want me to be there too when
you talk to them?"

"I'd love that," Hannah said.

They retreated to the office and called Hannah's parents. Her
mother picked up the phone. "Mum! I'm engaged!" Hannah yelled as
soon as her mother had said "Westlock."

"Hannah darling, congratulations!" her mother exclaimed. "I am so
happy for you. I'll get Dad, hold on." Hannah's mother put the
receiver down and yelled "Neil! Neil! Come quick. It's Hannah.
She's engaged!"

"Whom to?" her father was heard to say as he approached the
telephone, "Don't know," her mother said in a whisper. "Haven't
gotten that far yet."

Hannah and George who could hear the exchange chuckled quietly.

"OK, Dad's here too," Hannah's mother said, "and he wants to know
who the lucky young man is."

"I'm the one who is lucky and he is not exactly young," Hannah
replied. "But you know him very well."

"George?" two voices said in unison after a very brief silence.

"Uh huh," Hannah confirmed. "George!"

"Fantastic," Hannah's mother said. "I thought you were never
going to work it out! What do the kids say?"

"They are all really good about it," Hannah said. "Apparently
Anne and Beth have thought for months it was going to happen.
Even George's secretary had an inkling."

"What about Colin?" her father asked.

"It was actually our worry about him that held us back," Hannah
said. "But in the end it was him that triggered it all." She
explained to her parents about George and Colin relocating,
viewing the house and Colin expressing his desire to have Hannah
living with them.

"Oh, the little sweetheart," Hannah's mother exclaimed. "It can't
have been easy being him for the last year or so."

"Nor has it," George said. "But he seems genuinely happy."

"Oh hullo George," Hannah's mother said. "Congratulations to you
too. So you're leaving Norway?"

"Mostly," George replied. "We will still have a division outside
Oslo, but my work will be out of London."

They talked for a long time about George's company and the house
and Colin's school and Hannah's work. "So you're getting a
promotion?" her father exclaimed. "That's great news - even if it
drowns out a bit amongst getting engaged and buying a house!"

Hannah laughed guiltily. "Yeah, I suppose work ranks a little low
all of a sudden. But speaking of work - I have to leave fairly
soon; I have a dayshift."

"Yes, you mustn't forget your little sick babies," her mother
said.

"Now you mention them, babies I mean," Hannah said. "Don't take
too long rescheduling your trip over here. I want a proper church
wedding with Dad giving me away and all and I want to be able to
fit a wedding dress."

"I see," her mother said pointedly. "We'll keep that in mind."

Hannah had to leave and they ended the call. "They took that
well!" she exclaimed as the Skype 'end' signal sounded in the
computer speakers.

"Very!" George replied.

"Admit that you were nervous about their reaction!" Hannah
challenged.

"Very!" George readily admitted. "But then I also worried about
Beth and Anne and Colin. I think I'll stop worrying and just
start to enjoy!"

"Very wise Mr. Hamsun, very wise indeed." Hannah said, kissed him
and left for work.


"I believe congratulations are in order Nurse Westlock!"
Professor Rutherford said when Hannah arrived at work.

"Oh my, news travel fast, doesn't it?" Hannah said but happily
accepted the Professor's handshake which she deftly converted to
a hug.

The professor smiled. "Irene Phillips phoned me last night. She
was so excited. But I assure you I have told no-one."

"That's fine," Hannah smiled back. "I will tell Eleanor presently
and then I suspect the entire ward will know a few seconds
later."

Eleanor had one look at Hannah's left hand and exclaimed "Oh my
god! You're engaged! When did that happen?"

Hannah explained about the house and the proposal. "So he finally
made the pass yesterday, huh? Well, well, well!" Eleanor teased.
"Stacey and I heard what you said you were going to do in
response. And I thought you were walking slightly bow-legged!"

"Get out of here!" Hannah grinned good-naturedly. "You are every
bit as bad as Colin!"

That required some explanation that left Hannah slightly pink and
Eleanor in stitches. "Well at least the boy is taking it well.
But I forget; he must have known you always. And knowing you is
loving you Pet."

Eleanor was thrilled about the invitation for the New Year's Eve
engagement party even though she had already accepted another
invitation. "Bring him!" Hannah urged, so Eleanor phoned her date
and coolly explained there was a 'slight change in venue'. The
young man was so smitten he docilely acquiesced.


George spent the afternoon with his solicitor and got the
paperwork regarding the purchase of the Old Rectory finalised. He
also discussed the best way to arrange his personal affairs. "I
can only recommend that you make a comprehensive will Mr.
Hamsun," the solicitor said. "Your grown daughters are well
provided for, but there are some legal implications for your boy
vis-à-vis his late mother's estate. I do not want to pressure you
of course, but you would be well advised to marry before you take
title of the new house - or you have any further children."

"But we are in complete harmony over this, my daughters and I,"
George protested.

"I am sure you are and that is excellent," the solicitor said
drily. "But my profession would not be nearly as big and
profitable as it is if family life was always harmonious."

George recalled that conversation later that night. Hannah came
home late but she was adamant she wasn't 'too tired' for anything
and while their love-making might have been slightly less noisy
than the previous night it lacked nothing in vigour. Hannah's
contracting vagina triggered George's own climax and for the
fourth time he delivered a large quantity of semen directly into
Hannah's womb.

"Hannah my love," he said when their breathing had returned to
normal. "I've noted we have no interest in contraception. It
would be a tad late for that anyway, but yes, we're very
deliberately not being careful, right?"

"Absolutely," Hannah said - and the after-tremors in her body
emphasised her sincerity by trying to milk the last few drops out
of George. "It can only take too long for me to get pregnant."

"Right," George said. "And I also recall what you said earlier
today about a church wedding and your parents being there and so
on which is lovely. But I talked to my solicitor today and he
urged us to marry as soon as possible." He outlined what the
solicitor had said.

"What do we do?" Hannah asked.

"I suggest we get legally married at a register office at once
and then have the big church do when your parents - and possibly
your brothers - can get here. Whitsun is a tad late next year;
you might be pretty big by then - I hope so anyway, but perhaps
they can get here by April," George said.

"Sounds fine," Hannah said. "And listen, if my belly arrives at
the altar before I do, so be it!"


The New Year party was great. Hannah only got home late, having
had to work during the afternoon, but George and his daughters
had everything ready. Joanna and Dave and the kids were elated
about George and Hannah. "I feel so happy for you," Joanna
gushed. "Next year is going to be fantastic for all of us." In a
whisper she added "I wish we could tell Fiona and Liam about our
news too, but it is still much too early."

"Better not jump the gun Jo," George agreed. "But I bet they will
be excited. And listen, yours will not be the only baby next year
if we can help it!"

The only discord was Catherine who would rather have gone to a
party with Thomas and Mark. Joanna was initially willing to let
her, but when further investigation revealed that it was a party
for Mark and his friends and that Thomas was only grudgingly
accepted amongst the older participants, Joanna pulled the plug.
So Catherine was in a foul mood, made fouler by the fact that
Colin paid Fiona much more attention than he offered her. And
George obviously only had eyes for Hannah. "Sometimes it is hard
to be 13," Dave whispered to Hannah. Hannah nodded and tried to
engage Catherine in the revelry, but she had decided to be grumpy
and declared that children and adults alike were equally
'childish' and 'embarrassing'.

But the rest of the party enjoyed themselves. Eleanor's date - a
young doctor from another ward at the hospital - turned out to be
really sweet and immensely keen on Eleanor. "There are a lot of
jokes about nurses wanting to bag a doctor and vice versa," he
said, "but honestly - we met at a party held by a mutual friend
and had no idea we were colleagues until later."

"And we will probably have to tell people that for the rest of
our lives," Eleanor added - and then blushed profusely when she
realised what she had said. But her young doctor certainly seemed
to like that prospect. There is something about weddings and
engagement parties; the mood is infectious.


George and Hannah were married quietly in late January at the
Southwark register office. By then they knew that Hannah was
pregnant. They took over the Old Rectory on the first of February
and moved in about a month later.

Colin's tutor was a find. Quentin was planning to study to become
a teacher and his work with Colin showed that to be an excellent
career choice. Over the next couple of months he helped Colin
getting ready for the English school system and also became a
close friend.

Hannah's parents, her brothers and her oldest brother's partner
came in May for a huge church wedding. Stacey and Eleanor were
bride's maids and bawled their eyes out. It was hard to imagine
that they were cool and level-headed ICU nurses for their
day-jobs!

That the bride was visibly pregnant didn't detract one bit from
the day - Hannah looked gorgeous in her dress. And besides, the
place was swarming with pregnant women - Joanna who was quite
large by then, Irene who had just starting to show and was doing
very well and Trish, Hannah's brothers partner, also had a
noticeable bump.

At the end of the long day, as George and Hannah were getting
ready for bed and had stripped down, George looked at his
gorgeous fertile goddess of a bride in wonder. He seemed far
away. "Penny for your thoughts?" Hannah said.

"There are things uncles are not for," George replied with a deep
contented sigh. "I am so glad we worked out I could be your lover
and husband instead."

THE END