Teruko was stunning; Japanese doll features and a fair, ‘peaches and cream’ complexion, huge, dark, Anime-girl eyes, and long, smoky blonde hair. No wonder Jack was in love with her; with her and Sai Fong in the same room, I felt small, and plain and ordinary, because I definitely wasn’t in their class when it came to sheer physical beauty; luckily, I had Andy, and he only wanted me, because I wasn’t even in the running when it came to the girl Jack really wanted.
I finally understood why he’d treated me with such amused tolerance when I’d spent my teenage years gazing longingly at him and hanging on his every word; he had Teruko, and she trumped me hands down!
As we talked, I could see him beginning to remember me and putting me back in his world, and when he finally twigged that Andy and I were a couple, the acceptance and understanding were all I could have wished for.
*
We saw Jack and Teruko (and Harry and Sai) on a fairly regular basis over the next three years; Andy was taking his surgical qualification, and both Sai and Teruko were in university, both of them waiting to graduate before they got married.
As I explained earlier, I’d never really wanted to go to uni; I was happy to work at the bookshop, eventually becoming manager, living in domestic bliss with Andy, and being there for him when the work got too much for him. The poor boy was really stressing, and I like to think I helped him through all that, but the fact is, his main crutch was David Denham, who was going through the same thing in London, so they would swap horror stories, check techniques, and commiserate when they got the sharp end from a lecturer or mentor.
Harry and Sai got married in the lovely 17th century Wren church on Ludgate in London; I love Sai Fong like my own sister, but I have to admit I was deeply, hatefully jealous of her; she’d found a way to marry her beloved Harry, something I’d never have, and when Jack married Teruko in St. Chad’s church in Shrewsbury, right opposite the park where I’d tried to brain Slimy, my depression about the whole marriage thing hit a new low. I wanted so much to be Andy’s wife, but I couldn’t work out a way that didn’t get us jailed for fraud, or incest, or both.
And then David got married; he married a stunning American girl called Lori, with jet black hair and violet eyes; she looked like Disney’s Snow White, except she was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. I heard a rumour from Sai that she was his half-sister, which made it even worse for me; all of my favourite people in the world could tie the knot with the girl who should have been forever barred from doing it with them, everyone had what they wanted, and I couldn’t, and it was tearing me apart; all I wanted was to give that one thing to Andy, to put him up there with all the people he loved best in the world, and I couldn’t, and it hurt so much.
Andy knew this was an issue with me; he told me constantly that a marriage was in the heart, not just a piece of paper, and I believed him, but it was almost too much to bear, knowing I’d never have that white dress, the Wedding March from Lohengrin, bridesmaids, bouquets, and bells ringing to tell the world I had married the man I loved, and that I’d never have the chance to tell him “I do…” in front of all the people who mattered most to us. Superficial? Maybe, but it still means so much to a girl…
I think Andy knew that only too well, because the next thing I knew, Grandfather was knocking on the door and sweeping me up as I dissolved in tears. I knew he was there because he knew what was going on with me; the one thing my Grandfather could never be accused of is not knowing what’s going-on around him.
I love being around my Grandfather; he gives-off this air of wanting me around; everything I do or say is immediately of interest to him, and I can tell it’s genuine, not just a cultivated mask to keep the granddaughter quiet; he’s genuinely interested and concerned for me. Even with all that, though, he could never make this come out right for me, and that just made it worse; even Grandfather, king of the fixers, couldn’t fix this…
Grandfather waited until the storm had passed, then led to me to couch so he could sit and hold me properly.
“You know why I’m here, Lamb-Chop,” he said, “Andrew told me what’s going on with you; is it really that important? I mean, you have Andrew, all he wants is you, he’s never going anywhere; would a ceremony and a piece of paper really make that much difference to your lives together?”
I tried to explain what I was feeling inside, the knowledge that I couldn’t give him this one thing that all his best friends had done so easily, that being a wife in actuality was important to me.
He nodded while I laid out my reasons, and my hopes, and why they were never going to come together, then looked keenly at me.
“Lamb-Chop, I can sort this for you, but you have to be sure it’s really what you want; there’s no going back; tell me now this is what you want, and I’ll make it happen for you, but you have to swear you’ll never, ever mention this to anyone. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”
I gazed at him in wonder, but he looked deadly serious.
“Yes Grandfather, I’m quite sure. Please help me!”
Grandfather smiled as he hugged me.
“Give me a few days, okay? In the meantime, relax, Lamb-Chop, we’ll sort this out for you, I promise!”
*
A week later, a courier knocked at the door with a package for me. Bursting with curiosity, I tore it open, and there inside was a birth certificate for ‘Linda Eugenia Francesca Montagu-Hillingdon’ with the same birthday as me. There was a passport in the same name, with my photograph inside the back cover, and a driving license, again with my picture, and also in the same name. I was astonished; they were all legal identity documents, and apparently all genuine; even the birth certificate looked and felt the proper age. Only Grandfather could have pulled-off something like this; I knew he had some very curious, shadowy contacts, in some very shady corners of the business world, and fingers in some very dubious pies, but this…
The phone suddenly ringing nearly made me jump out of my skin; when I answered it, it was grandfather.
“Lamb-Chop, you should have a… a package; have you opened it?”
I answered in the affirmative, and his warm chuckle filled my ear.
“Good, it arrived on time. Darling, I’m at London City Airport, waiting for my flight, I should be with you in about three hours, we’ll talk then; until then, don’t talk to anyone about you-know-what. Love you, Lamb-Chop!”
Three hours later I answered the door, and there he was, looking as pleased as Punch. I was full of questions as to what this all meant, and how he’d done it.
“Lindy, my second-cousin once removed is now your mother; her name was Sabrina Montagu-Hillingdon, so your surname is Hillingdon, too. She passed away a couple of years ago in St. Moritz, skiing accident, but all her records now show that you are in fact her daughter. All your funds and trust holdings are now in your new name, all her properties, trusts, and investments formerly held in probate are also now yours, because you’re her daughter and always have been, so these are for you.”
He handed me a packet of cheque-books and withdrawal slips all in my new name. I was frankly astonished at how completely I’d disappeared, and told him so. Grandfather grinned at that.
“Lamb-Chop, once you marry Andrew, you’ll get your Grosvenor-Edgeworth name back, the only difference being you were legally Linda Montagu-Hillingdon when you married him, complete with the papers to prove it, and you’ll be legally married, according to the laws of the land, not some dodgy legal sleight of hand somewhere overseas. I promised you I’d help you, Lamb-Chop, and I always keep my promises!”
I was still a little confused as to how he’d done it all, and just a little worried; a house of cards is not the most stable of structures…
“Grandfather, how is this all possible? Surely there are records that people can check…” I trailed-off as I saw him shake his head, grinning happily.
“Lindy, believe me, all the records that matter have been changed, expunged, or physically removed and destroyed. There are people who owed me, and I called-in those favours; all it took was money and a little pressure, et voila. Rest easy, Lamb-Chop; no-one is ever going to know, or be able to work it out, because all the trails stop exactly where they should: at you, Linda Montagu-Hillingdon, now and forever, amen!”
*
We published the banns the following week; Andy had been astonished at how completely Grandfather and his ‘people’ had covered my tracks and re-invented me, but that didn’t stop him getting down on one knee and proposing formally; I was half-tempted to tell him I’d think about it, but I couldn’t be that cruel to my sweet Andy, so I said ‘yes, I’d be honoured!’
With that, I leaped on him, kissing him wildly while he squeezed, groped, kissed and licked; the knowledge we could get married, properly, legally, had had a powerful aphrodisiac effect, and I wanted to take this further. While I kissed and nibbled him, his hands slid into my panties and edged them down far enough for him to squeeze and knead my cheeks, pulling them apart and making me mew and squeal mid-kiss as he stretched my bum hole open.
Andy didn’t want to do this here, on the couch, and suddenly I wanted to be in a bed with him, naked, his lips on mine as he rammed that thing of his into me; right now, I didn’t care where he stuck that thing, just so long as he did me properly! When he stood up, a naughty idea came to me, and I slid to my knees, fumbling with the fastening of his jeans, and then suddenly I had his cock in my hands. He smelled delicious, fresh and salty, with just a faint, almost metallic edge, and when I licked him from his balls to the tip, he groaned softly.