“Ready to rock my world, Daddy-Bear?” She whispered, before thrusting herself up and down on me, riding me for all she was worth, giving me as much pleasure as I’d given her.
I can’t last long when she does that to me. The sight of her satin skin sheened with sweat, the sleek interplay of her muscles as she rode me, her strong thighs gripping me, and her swelling breasts bobbing so enticingly, all combine to take me close to the edge every time.
“Fuck me, Bobby, fill me up, you know you want to, jam that thing in me, yess, that’s it, like that, yess… yesss… oh God!” she chanted as orgasm once more possessed her, and it was too much for me. I came like a volcano, hard as I ever had, filling my beautiful wife endlessly, holding her against me, my arms wrapped around her as she once again trembled in release as her convulsing pussy milked every last drop out of me.
We lay on the cool floor, Shari spooned into me with my arm around her and my head filled with the fruity, flowery scent of her magnificent hair, our bodies glossy with sweat, and our hearts gradually slowing and breathing once more returning to normal. We were both too comfortable to move, even in the still heat of the attic on a hot summer afternoon, so we lay spooned together, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin contact.
Shari lay silent and motionless against me, probably asleep, I thought, her breathing slow and even again after all our exertion, with her head resting in the crook of my arm, but then she stirred, reaching behind her to pat my hip.
“Bobby, look over there. Is that what I think it is?”
I looked where she was pointing at one of the piled-up plastic crates that had been opened, probably by Ricky years before, with wads of papers tugged out of the file folders jammed in there and just left hanging out haphazardly. At first, all I saw were yet more papers, more of the trash my pack-rat father had obsessively accumulated, but then I saw what it was she was pointing at.
It was a piece of paper, but not white like a letter or bill, rather it was buff, with pale green printing, something I’d seen somewhere before. I tried to remember where it was I’d seen something like that, and then memory clicked into place and I realised it was the corner of a marriage certificate. Just like ours, in fact.
Shari turned to look at me, the question alight in her eyes, so I didn’t keep her guessing.
“Go get it baby; maybe we’ve got our starting point after all.”
*****
Nia:
Mummy was the fount of all knowledge when it came to Daddy’s sisters; when Mummy and Laura first met Daddy, the whole Rosa story was still fresh and hurting him and Barbara was still in his life.
“Nguye’t, your daddy all that left of his family, that all he know; his baby sister, both baby sister, taken away from him by wicked, wicked men, and he never stop hurting for them; sister Laura and I never meet youngest sister, husband very old man, take her away, then daddy family hear she killed in accident, baby gone to half-sister, but not know where she live, what she like, anything.”
She took my hand between hers, lacing her small fingers with mine, the way she did when I was small.
“We meet man sister Barbara marry, he wicked man, feel evil around him all time. Sister Laura bring me with her first time she come home from university with Daddy, even she ask me to not let her be alone with him any time he come see Barbara. She not trust him, not like way he look at her, way he look at me like he hate me, talk to Barbara, talk to Daddy, like he better than all of them. Daddy dog not like him, not like him at all. Always trust dogs and children, they always see what really there, and Daddy dog not like him or trust him.”
That stern, ‘do not mess with me’ look she does so well came out then.
“Daddy not even want go to university while that man near Barbara, she still young, only at local college, want to be teacher one day, go to university like him, he not want her lose that. Parents made him go. Daddy still not want to go, his daddy make him, so Daddy go, meet sister Laura, fall in love, bring sister and me home to meet parents. Barbara still with that man, her own daddy not make her see what is wrong, your daddy still unhappy about what is happening to family.”
Her expression saddened.
“Then Daddy mummy die, so sudden, so tragic, Daddy heartbroken, he come home from university, then his daddy die too just few weeks later, he die of broken heart, not heart attack, whatever doctor say. His little girl die, his wife die, his heart break and he die. Your poor Daddy heartbroken; he alone, no mummy, no daddy, little sister gone, sister Barbara under spell of evil man, he all alone, try to be family of one, but it hard for him, if not for sister Laura be in his life I not know what he do. ”
She shook her head, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I do not know where baby sister Rosa little baby girl go, not know if Barbara dead or not, if have babies, where babies gone. I know you want to try find daddy family, I see that look, same look when you and Little Boy search around the world for my Hu’e, my Lily-Flower, big sister Bethany.”
She smiled sadly, brushing my cheek with her fingertips.
“You have big, big heart, family mean much to you, my Nguye’t, you find baby girl perhaps Hu Yeh smile on you and help you find daddy sister too. Maybe you and Little Boy find way to mend daddy broken heart.”
She squeezed my hand just a little tighter, that wistful expression whenever she called Jamie “Little Boy” much in evidence.
“You my Nguye’t, my Moon-Child, and Jamie, my own little boy, my son, beloved sister son, you are both credit to this family, you bring much luck to this family, and many blessings; you do much to ease daddy heart, you are his children, and have big and warm place in daddy heart, in his life, all he do he do for you. You do so much to keep him whole, but there is still piece missing, maybe more than one piece still to find, so I will help you if I can; James my husband, father of my children, his pain my pain, and this piece of his heart broken too long: it is time to mend and give daddy peace.”
She smiled and patted my hand.
“Jamie help you, anyone else you need, ask. Julie your sister, she will always help you, she love daddy too, she not forget you help her find her family, you ask Little Girl now she help you find yours, she is your sister and she love you.”
She stood up, straightening and smoothing down her dress.
“When Jamie come home talk with him, ask him, talk with Julie, ask Darryl help, he and wife Lena good people, good friend and family, he ask friend Georgie help find Julie, maybe friend can help again. There lot of people who will help you, Nguye’t, all family in best way, let them help. Daddy help so many times, now it time when he need all his children and their family help.”
*****
Bobby:
Shari padded over to the open crate of documents, and pulled out the paper that had caught her eye. She stood there reading it, completely oblivious to the fact she was stark naked, her eyes alight with triumph.
“Babe…” I murmured, “Psst, Babe!”
Shari jumped, and looked over at me.
“What?”
“Cover ’em up, babe!” I grinned, and she looked down at herself and grinned naughtily.
“Oh Bobby, supposing Ricky came up here right now, what would he say!” she teased, as I tossed her shift over to her.
“He’d say I married you for your money! Get some panties on, you’re giving me ideas!” I grinned, dodging behind a pile of crates as she looked for something to throw at me.
She handed me the marriage certificate she’d spotted, so I read through it as she finished re-dressing and shaking out her hair. It made for fascinating reading.
According to the certificate, dad had married Barbara Jane Morrison (using the “Robert Brian Davies” alias, so it probably wasn’t even a legal marriage, great, just one more thing I needed to kick his arse for) of Streatham, South London, at St Leonard’s church, Streatham.
According to the certificate, she was a teaching assistant aged twenty, said to be born in Streatham, her parents were Robert James and Barbara Blake Morrison, both deceased, and dad was twenty-six (another lie: he was at least thirty-six, because he was in his mid-fifties when I was seventeen, which is when they finally arrested him) witnessed by two witnesses.
One name was water-smeared and indecipherable, and the other was a James Blake Morrison. Morrison! Barbara had family!
I looked into Shari’s eyes and I could see the excitement sparking there. Finally we had something to go on: a definite location for Barbara, her date of birth, her age, and a family member. Maybe if we put all those together in a search on one of those family tree websites we’d get more information. This James Morrison looked promising, for starters; if he was Barbara’s brother (and he had the same “Blake” name as Barbara’s mother, so he probably was) then he was my uncle.
We just had to find him, and South London looked like the place to start looking.