Shake That Tree Page 3

  Holly left the bathroom about ten minutes later, by which time he had subsided a bit and was presentable. He kept the gym shorts on though as there was something unique about wearing his wife’s clothes while visiting a nubile girl upstairs who would be in his daughter’s bed while wearing her nightie and who insisted on calling him ‘Daddy’.

  He gently pushed open the bedroom door to see Holly touching the photos of school-friends on the wall. The pale blue nightie covered her buttocks but he was amazed by the shape of her legs and, once again, dismayed by the deep purple bruising. He smiled at her however as she pulled the covers over her chest and sighed with pleasure.

  “It’s so good to be in a bed!” she said.

  “I can imagine. Did you find everything OK in there?”

  “Yes, thanks Daddy. I left the dirty clothes just outside the bathroom in a plastic bag that I found.”

  “Ok, I saw them, I’ll dump them in the wash and set it going before I go to bed.”

  “Daddy?”

  He walked over to the side of the bed and she patted the area next to her. He sat, carefully positioning his legs facing away from her. “Hmm?” asked, noting that her hair was clean and the slightly curly locks framed her face perfectly.

  She reached up, wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him close. “Thank you,” she said simply, leaning in for a kiss. He moved to connect her lips with his cheek but she was too quick and their lips met for what Harry thought was much longer than necessary. She pulled him closer so that her head was against the side of his and hugged him, sighing with pleasure and contentment. Relaxing, she lay back down, giggled and pulled the covers back up to her neck.

  “Of course, anytime Hol,” he managed to stammer, moving towards the door. She had smelled of soap, cleanliness, youth, fitness, of High School and college days and of Holly’s shampoo. “See you in the morning. I’m down this way if you need anything,” he added, leaving the door open a couple of inches.

  “OK, night night!”

  Harry grabbed the bag of clothing and floated down the stairs, delighted with both the kiss on the lips and his comments back to her which had been in a deep and compassionate voice rather the scratchy falsetto which could have emerged with his heart beat peaking around one hundred and fifty. He opened the washing machine and ripped the side of the bag, holding it at arm’s length in case the smell was overpowering. A pair of jeans tumbled out, followed by two socks, two pairs of knickers and one other sock. He shook the bag and noted there was no bra, no fourth sock. Reaching into the drum of the machine he carefully picked up one of the pairs of knickers in his fingertips and examined them. The gusset was badly stained in yellow and brown and the material had been ripped in several places. Peering inside the machine he saw the other pair and noted that they too were ripped. After a moments consideration her ripped both pairs some more, tearing them with a nail from the drawer to make them close to useless. He slipped off his wife’s dirty gym shorts, rubbed them around his cock and when the stimulus failed to do anything for him he threw them in the wash with the rest of the soiled clothing.

  Extra washing liquid seemed in order, so after two cupful’s he closed the lid and set it running on the ‘heavy’ setting. Back in his study he scrolled through a few screens of young girls but the magic had evaporated. The real thing was upstairs and within two hours of her arrival, they had reached the kissing stage and he had behaved like a true gentleman. His phone beeped and he saw a text from his wife. He wasn’t going to answer it but glanced down at what she said: dont forget laundry hamper. He groaned, went upstairs and paused outside Holly’s room. Aware that she would be able to see him if she was still awake he listened for a few seconds before continuing into his bedroom to grab the dirty clothes. More underwear joined the small load and he reset the clock for a full cycle of ‘heavy’.

  Five minutes later he slipped into bed, naked, half-erect and hugely proud of himself for his self-control, his compassion for a fellow human being and for the greatest chance he had been given to fuck a schoolgirl since he had been at college. And those legs! Life’s bounty was certainly bestowed on the righteous, or something like that.

  Chapter 7 – Woke up in the Morning

  “Daddy?” Holly pushed the bedroom door a little farther and quietly entered the room. She put the cup of coffee down on the bedside table and glanced around the room before sitting gently on the side of the bed. “Daddy?”

  “Hmm?” he answered, trying to place the voice.

  “I made some coffee for you, white with sugar, hope that’s how you take it.”

  Harry rolled over and felt his heart surge as he saw her smiling face. “Oh, good morning, um, Holly.”

  “Good morning Daddy. Coffee’s here.”

  “Oh wow, thank you,” he said, leaning up on one elbow. Her legs were inches away from him and they were trim, hairless and smooth. Sipping the coffee he smiled up at her and nodded in appreciation, forcing his eyes to behave.

  “I emptied the washing machine as well. My stuff is clean but some of it is a bit torn.”

  “Yeah, I noticed last night.”

  She glanced at him with a look of shock. “Daddy, you looked at my knickers!” she giggled, teasing and pushing his arm so that his coffee swilled around the mug.

  “Well, when I opened the bag, yes,” he replied, already on the defensive. She limped round the bed and carefully lay down next to him.

  “I’m only joking Daddy, it’s OK. They’re a bit uncomfortable now though.”

  “Yeah, I suppose they would be.” He thought about letting her use some of Holly’s but that would be something that neither girl would approve of and then an idea burst into life in his sleepy yet altruistic mind. “We can go to the mall and get some for you, it’s just down the road.”

  She leaned across and put her arm across his chest, squashing her breast against the duvet which separated them. “Thanks, you’re looking after me so well and I think my bruises don’t hurt quite like they did last night.” She leaned over to her right and pulled up the nightie to show her thigh. “See, I think it looked worse in the shower last night.” He glanced across, making sure the Holly knew he only took a quick peek, but his mind extended his thoughts to what must surely be a pair of ripped knickers covering her pussy. His cock surged, moving into the aching zone and to his horror, she shifted again, scratching her nose which caused her elbow to rub directly over the throbbing head of his cock. She smiled up at him but the fleeting eye contact confirmed that she knew that he had a huge erection and that she had been the cause of it.

  “I tell you what, let’s grab some breakfast in a minute and then go out,” he suggested.

  She took the cue to leave, bounced off the bed and slipped out the door. He placed the coffee cup back on the bedside table, listened to make sure she was going downstairs, then slid back down under the sheets and grabbed his throbbing cock. It was so tempting to masturbate right there and then but he summoned some early morning willpower, pulled on his dressing gown and a pair of his most expensive designer underpants then slipped into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth twice for good measure and combed his hair before going downstairs.

  “Daddy, where do these go?” asked Holly, bending over the dishwasher.

  She was turned side on to him but her legs once again showed their classic shape from her cute little feet all the way up to where the skin disappeared under her nightie.

  “The bowls can stay out as we’ll need them now.”

  “And what about these mugs?”

  “Up there, in that cupboard,” he said, nodding at a door just in front of her. She took two of them and opened the door, then reached up on tiptoes to place them on a shelf. Her ripped knickers burst out from underneath the nightie and he saw the result of his handiwork. Pieces of material were hanging off, just waiting to be grabbed and torn, while only the gusset seemed to remain intact. He smiled at the pure perfection of his sabotage, then turned away to stare out of the kitchen
window. He watched her in the reflection, just like he did with his daughter. Girls, all the bloody same, teasing, experimenting, seeing what works and what doesn’t. He thought about standing behind her, letting her feel his hardness but decided that she knew about that and it might lead to a confrontation that could spoil the developing situation. Nevertheless, his balls were signaling an increasing need and he decided that he might just take a long shower after they got back from the Mall and deal with the problem.

  Chapter 8 – Heart of Gold

  Lydia entered her in-law’s kitchen just before 9:30 on Saturday morning, earning a lukewarm “hello again” from Grandma who was working next to the fridge. Lydia guessed that the mildness was a result of getting out of bed at what was considered late morning but she smiled back, ignoring any implied offence.

  “There’s cereal and toast if you want breakfast,” said Grandma, still focused on rolling out what looked like pastry.

  “Is Holly up yet?” she asked.

  “Haven’t seen her, she was up after you went to bed, we chatted for a while and she texted the world.”

  Lydia smiled and put two slices of bread into the toaster. “Remember that we’re taking you out to lunch today! Anywhere that you would like to go?”

  Granddad came in from the back garden and smiled at Lydia. “Hi there, did I hear something about eating?”

  “Yes, remember I said we would take you guys out for lunch today, so any preferences?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to go crazy, it will be good just to sit and talk. Shame that Harry couldn’t be here.”

  “I know, he’s got a huge presentation on Monday to that big new client.”

  “We know, just a shame. We see so little of you now you’ve moved out of the village.”

  “Mum, I know” said Lydia, buttering her toast. “What about Thatcher’s Restaurant?”

  “Now that’s expensive. I heard it costs the earth just for coffee!” said Granddad as he washed the soil off his hands in the sink.

  “That’s OK, let’s try there, eh?” said Lydia as she ate her toast. Granddad joined her at the kitchen table and spread butter on his bread. Lydia passed the marmalade without being asked and Granddad nodded at her. He looked up when the front doorbell rang.

  “Now who could that be on a Saturday morning?” he asked, rising.

  “Probably Mavis from the Homeless Outreach folks, there’s a rummage sale on next weekend and they’re collecting,” said Grandma. The sound of the front door closing was followed by multiple footsteps along the hall. Grandma and Lydia looked up expectantly but their smiles dissolved when they saw Granddad return, accompanied by two other people, one of whom was in uniform.

  “It’s the Police,” said Granddad. “They want to have a quick chat,”

  “Oh no, who’s died?” asked Grandma, washing her hands in the sink.

  The taller of the two officers, a man in his early thirties, smiled and raised a hand. “Nobody Madam, no cause for concern, just a few questions if you have a minute?”

  Grandma hurried across to the table and cleared a pile of magazines off two of the chairs and tidied the table. “Of course. Tea?”

  “No thank you.” He looked across to Lydia. “May I ask who you are Madam?”

  “I’m Lydia, Mrs Craig’s daughter-in-law.”

  “Ah, OK, thanks. This concerns the whereabouts of a missing girl. She was last seen five days ago, on Monday afternoon by her mother.” Grandma looked up quickly at the man and then his female companion, then across to Granddad. “Her name is Juliette Brosnan and we just wondered if she had been in touch by any chance?”

  “Oh my, no, we’ve never heard from her,” said Grandma, clasping her hands together.

  “Goodness, she must be, what, eighteen now?” asked Granddad.

  “Nineteen, yes sir. We’ve checked of course with her friends. No entries on Facebook or any other social media after she went missing. Her parents are of course very worried indeed.” The officer watched the reactions of both pensioners closely and then glanced at Lydia to see her bewilderment. “Would any of you be on her Facebook?”

  “Oh no, we don’t use that thing, it’s too complicated,” said Grandma. “We just use email now and again.”

  “And we read the news too, all the news in the paper,” added Granddad

  “There’s a good news service on the TV with the local stations, isn’t there James?”

  “Of course” said the policewoman, directing the conversation back on track. “So you haven’t had any dealings with her for what, since she was about 3 months?”

  “Yes, that was the last time, at the Solicitor’s office,” said Granddad, returning to his toast.

  “OK, well I don’t think we need to take up any more of your time, thank you,” said the policeman, rising and shaking their hands. “If you do hear anything perhaps you could contact us at the station?” Granddad followed them to the front door then bade them goodbye. He looked at Lydia with some sympathy when he returned, waiting for the questions. Grandma left her pastry on the counter and sat next to her husband.

  “Sweetie, there’s something from many years ago that you should know and it sounds like Harry hasn’t mentioned it to you. Not that there’s any reason for him to do so, of course, but you ought to know now.”

  Lydia looked back and forth between her in-laws, wondering what her husband could have kept hidden all this time. Granddad took her hands and squeezed.

  “Before you and Harry met, he was involved with a girl from the village, name of Lauren. They were friendly for about two years.”

  “I think I heard about her, I think he mentioned her,” offered Lydia.

  “And she fell pregnant,” added Grandma, pursing her lips. “Harry and she had broken up before she announced that she was expecting, but she insisted it was his.”

  Her father-in-law smiled weakly at her. “We met, I mean all six of us including Lauren’s parents and decided that the child should be adopted. Lauren’s father and I made the arrangements. I think the foster family’s name was Brosnan, so that’s why she grew up as Juliette Brosnan. Juliette must have been their choice as a name because it wasn’t mine or Millie’s.”

  Lydia stared at them, nodding as though she wanted to milk every little detail from their memories. “I had no idea,” she whispered, squeezing Granddad’s hand.

  “It’s a very long time ago and they were young,” suggested Granddad. “I would say that it turned out well for everyone concerned. Maybe now she’s having thoughts of leaving home, of finding her own way in the world?”

  “And her parents live nearby?” asked Lydia

  “Just about a mile from the Misty Simpee Bridge,” said Granddad. “And I doubt if Harry has ever made contact with the child’s mother since that time.”

  Lydia looked around the room and shook her head slowly. “I had no idea, not that it’s really anything to be concerned about. It’s not like Harry had been in prison or something.”

  “No, that’s right. These things happen. We got involved in the local foster organisations afterwards and met some wonderful people.”

  “He wasn’t quite such a wonderful person though,” added Granddad.

  “Who?” asked Lydia

  “He means the foster father,” said Grandma. “I think his name was Spencer. Not a very happy man from what I recall.”

  Footsteps on the stairs preceded the flamboyant entrance of Holly, still in light blue pyjamas and a dressing gown that belonged to her grand-mother.

  “Ta da!” she trilled, beaming at everyone.

  “Good afternoon,” said Granddad, smiling back at her.

  “So, did you all get arrested?” quipped Holly.

  “They were inquiring about a missing girl,” said Grandma, moving some cutlery to make a space for her at the table.

  “They’re going to all the houses,” interjected her mother.

  “Huh, cool." She smiled up at her Grandmother. “Ooh, breakfast!” she said, sett
ing her phone down in front of her at the table.

  “Surely you have breakfast at home?”

  “No, never, I’m always late.”

  “Except at weekends, right?” added her mother.

  “I suppose. What’s happening today then?”

  “Do you still want to go and see Billy this evening?”

  “Of course! You know I do. Haven’t seen her for ages, like two years.”

  “And I need to visit Daphne who lost her husband a couple of months ago. So we can head out after we get back from lunch and maybe the shops.” Lydia smiled at Grandma. “Is that OK?”

  “That sounds fine, we didn’t have any firm plans for while you’re here, we know you need to catch up with people.”

  “Thanks Mum,” said Lydia, grateful that the subject of the Police had been dropped.

  Lunch was a success and Lydia was happy to pay for it even though the final bill might have been expected for a party twice their size. Forsaking the shops they returned home for cups of tea in front of the TV along with small talk which took up most of the afternoon until it was time for Holly and Lydia to get changed.

  Chapter 9 – More than a Feeling

  Harry made sure that they were both was dressed in jeans and t-shirts, with Holly using a large anorak more for disguise than warmth as they left the house. It would be less than desirable if the neighbours saw her in a nightie and ripped knickers. They sneaked out of the front door and drove off towards the mall, a sense of adventure accompanying them as though they were on a school field trip. The Mall was less than ten minutes away and Harry parked away from the majority of other cars and switched off the engine.