“I am not used to sharing, you know," I broke our embrace. “But you may use whatever you wish whilst you are here.”

I felt myself flush at the possibility that she may think me rather naïve. I generally wasn't but I had built up an almost impenetrable wall around me which she was beginning to destroy. I had the utmost trust in her but here, in the space I always thought of as my fortress, I began to feel vulnerable and I was trying to come to terms with the fact that, at long last, I had found someone with whom I could relax and already, I had subconsciously let down my guard.

“You have no need to worry,” she replied, as though she could read my very thoughts. “I will take the utmost care of you and your home, probably better than I do my own.”

“I know,” I replied, somewhat abashed.

I turned to the dressing table, anything to take my mind off my perceived embarrassment, and opened the draw that contained my clean nightwear. Nothing there seemed good enough to offer her so I took out what I thought was the prettiest, a cotton, floral print, knee length nightdress with a ribbon to tie at the neck. I had liked it when I bought it but now it seemed wholly inadequate. At the time I had not thought about bringing anyone back to my home to sleep with, and certainly never expected such a beautiful woman would require it to wear.

Jemima had been watching me with some amusement. Seeing my discomfort she touched my shoulder and I turned to face her, still holding the nightie.

“Karen, stop fretting about what I might be thinking of you and your life style. I told you, it doesn't matter.”

I sighed.

“It matters to me, Jemima,” I answered resignedly. “You are used to the best of everything, things which I can never hope to offer you.”

“You don't get it, do you,” she said, holding my arms firmly. “I am not used to the best, only the most expensive. That is not the same thing I assure you.”

“Well maybe not,” I replied, “but I live in a different world than you do...” Once again she stopped me, a finger pressed gently but firmly to my lips.

“Do you still feel the same as you did before the crash?” she asked as she removed her finger.

I shook my head.

“Well then? Neither do I, Karen. Like you, something died that day. I cannot go back to that life and what lies in the future, I don't know but what I do know is that I want to be open to anything. We both have a new life ahead of us and I don't know whether it will be together or separately but either way, I am open to anything and you make me happy so stop worrying.”

I couldn't argue with her. I was behaving exactly the way I was worried about her being but in the opposite way. She didn't care about my working class existence so why should I be so concerned about her privileged one?

“You are right, of course,” I answered her, my shoulders drooping as I let my arms drop. “I have to learn too.”

“Good. Now, don't worry about your nightie, I like it, it's you and it's pretty but...”

I knew it, it was just words!

I tried not to show my thoughts but it was obvious, it wasn't good enough for her!

She laughed.

“Karen! I can see in your face what you are thinking! There is nothing wrong with it, honestly. It's just that I normally sleep naked!”

“Oh, I see.” I smiled somewhat sheepishly and felt myself flush with embarrassment. “I'm sorry. I suppose I do have much to learn.”

She took my face in her hands.

“It's all right, Sweetheart,” she whispered, gazing into my eyes, “We both have a lot to learn.”

We remained still, just gazing for a minute until. "Come on,” she said, releasing my cheeks, “Sleep. You have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Hmm, yes, I do.” I sighed then and turned to the wardrobe, opened the door and pushed my clothes along the rail. “There is room here for yours, if you wish and there are some hangers there too.”

She didn't reply and I turned back to her. For the first time I took notice of what she was wearing, a black, dress with white piping and buttons, which flared from the waist. It was beautiful.

It complemented her tanned complexion, deep brown eyes and glossy black hair which she had drawn back into a pony tail and tied with a white lace ribbon in a big bow.

In short, she looked amazing!

She began to release the buttons at her slender neck. One by one she pushed the plastic disks through the openings in the fabric and I couldn't take my eyes off her when the two sides slowly separated as each button was released.

“I will just, erm...” I looked towards my room and inclined my head in that direction. I was beginning to feel a little flushed and it seemed that embarrassment was only part of the reason.

She had reached her waist and the material of the bodice had fallen open revealing her expensive silk corselet which accentuated the shape of her still firm breasts.

“Oh, could you stay a moment and help me with this dress please. It can be a little difficult with the netting.”

I didn't reply but remained rooted to the spot as she finished releasing the remaining buttons and allowed the dress to fall open either side of the netted underskirt that gave her dress its flare.

She stood still for a moment and then, with a sudden spark of recognition, I went behind her and took the open neck of her dress and held it up whilst she slipped her perfectly toned arms through the openings of the short, puffed sleeves.

I took it straight to my wardrobe and hung it carefully on a hanger. It probably cost more than all my dresses put together.

Turning back to her I gasped. She had removed the netted skirt and was draping it across the end of the bed. Something surged inside me, a feeling so intense it took me totally unaware. She was so beautiful standing there in just her corselet and sheer stockings. My senses reeled. I had never experienced such a feeling about a man before. I had always been so intent on pleasing him that my own feelings were by the bye but Jemima, she was making my stomach churn.

She straightened up and turned towards me.

“Karen? Are you all right?” she asked and my already burning face reddened even more.

“Oh, yes, sorry, erm, was I staring?” I was embarrassed to say the least and felt a little faint.

“You were but I don't mind,” she smiled. “Do you like it?”

I nodded slowly.

“Yes,” I whispered, “I do, very much.”

“Do you feel sort of funny inside?” she asked, much to my surprise, “In a way you have never felt before?”

Again, I nodded.

“Well, that is how I felt. When you got changed earlier and were just in your uniform blouse and stockings, I wanted to run over and grab you, to touch you.”

“But you didn't...” I was getting a little confused now.

“No,” she replied, “I didn't. I didn't want you to think that I was some crazed woman who only wanted your body, like all men either of us has ever known.”

“I... I don't know what to say,” I sighed, “Or what to do. It was easy with men, they did all the pushing, all I had to do was let them but you...” My words trailed off.

She looked at me, worry etched upon her pretty face,

“What about me, Karen? Have I disappointed you?”

“No! No! Not all, Jemima!” I hurriedly assured her, “No, you are not like them. You have not pressured me and I feel that if I told you now that I wasn't ready you would respect me and nothing would change.”

I looked at her directly, challenging her almost.

“Karen, you are dead right. If you are not ready for this I will accept that, of course. Neither will I push you. When you were recuperating in France, I corresponded regularly with Matron Blanchard and she kept me up to date with your progress.”

“She never told me!” I exclaimed.

“No, I asked her not to. I didn't want to interfere with your recovery.”

“I did wonder how you knew when I would be home,” I said.

“Well, to be honest, I did tell a little half truth to your airline. I told them that you would appreciate having me there as we had been through so much together. Fortunately, they agreed after contacting Madame Blanchard.”

“Françoise is wonderful, Jemima,” I said, half to myself, “She understood how I was feeling, especially about you.”

“You told her about us?” Jemima's eyes opened wide.

“Not really, I didn't need to,” I admitted, “I tried to kiss her when she was giving me a bed bath. I was so confused after what happened between us and she was so kind. She guessed how I felt about you and with you trekking all that way to find me I suppose she didn't have to be a genius to work out how you felt.” I smiled nervously and gazed into her eyes.

Suddenly I knew what I wanted and stepped forward and pressed my lips against hers. She was startled for a moment then responded eagerly, her soft lips parting slightly allowing my tongue to slip between them and meet her own in a dance of pure, unadulterated love.

I kissed her greedily, her wonderful scent filling my nostrils, my heart pounding with desire and, in the pit of my stomach, a whole host of butterflies trying to burst out.

Finally we parted, both of us breathing heavily and gasping for air.

“Damn it, Jemima!” I hissed, “I tried to deny it, tried hard to convince myself but I cannot!”

“Cannot what?” she asked, her eyes darting across mine, back and forth.

“I cannot deny it any longer. I love you, Jemima!”

Her beautiful face burst into a wide smile and she began to laugh, almost dancing with excitement then threw her arms around me and held me tightly, burying her face in my neck and burst into tears.

“I love you too, Karen,” she sobbed, “From that very first kiss on the aeroplane I knew it. I was so afraid that you wouldn't feel it. For weeks I have worried that when you came back I wouldn't be able to tell you.”

I looked at her tear stained face, so happy and with a smile as wide as an ocean.

“So what now?” I asked.

“I don't know,” she replied, still grinning, “And quite honestly, I don't care. I am happy to just take each day as it comes.”

I kissed her again, gently this time.

“Me too.” I replied, happily, “Me too.”

I thought carefully about my next question and then plucked up the courage to ask. "Jemima...” I ventured, “I have come to the conclusion that what's gone is gone and it is time to look forward and close out all that has gone before if I am to make a new life so...”

She cocked her head to one side, waiting for something, anything, that I had to say.

“Well...” I was hesitant as the thoughts churned through my mind.

She raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

I took a deep breath.

“Right then!” I said, finally deciding. “My mother's room has remained untouched since the day she left it other than keeping it clean. I don't want to be alone, Jemima so I wondered, well...” hesitating again, “Would you like to share with me tonight?”

There, it was done but then I had a thought!

“Only if you want to,” I added, hesitantly. “I understand if it bothers you and don't mind if you prefer to stay in here.”

I almost stopped breathing whilst I waited for her answer.

“Karen,” she replied after what seemed an eternity, her face serious, “Is that what you honestly want? I mean, are you ready for such a big step, so soon?”

I didn't dare think about the implications what she was saying. If I didn't start now then maybe, just maybe, I would never break free.

“Yes,” I replied solemnly, staring deep into the windows of her soul, “It is.”

“Then, yes,” she answered, “I do want to but on one condition.”

My heart almost stopped with panic.

“You must promise me,” she went on, “If, at any time, you are not comfortable you must tell me. I won't be angry or upset but you must tell me. Promise?”

I smiled happily and found I was trembling a little with with nerves and excitement.

“Yes, I promise,” I agreed.

I took her hand and led her from my room and across the hall to my mother's. I was extremely nervous as I pushed open the door.

The room was somewhat larger than mine and contained a double bed which I had kept neatly made and with fresh sheets. It was a subconscious act which I supposed was my way of hoping that, one day, she would come home. I knew, of course, that she never would but I just couldn't, until now, let her go.

Jemima stood in the doorway, looking around and finally let her gaze come to rest on the photograph of my mother and father on their wedding day. They looked so happy then, about a year after the end of the first war.

I went over and picked up the monochrome picture in its silver plated frame and looked at it. Although smiling and seemingly happy, my father had a haunted, far away look in his eyes.

Within moments, she was beside me, her arm around me.

“They look so much in love,” she commented.

“Yes,” I sighed, “They were, even to the end. The war spoiled it for them.”

“It did for many people,” she agreed and kissed the side of my neck.

A chill ran down my spine and I shivered uncontrollably, taking a deep breath at the same time and pressed my head against hers.

Leaning forward I opened the little drawer which still contained my mum's small bits and pieces and slipped the picture into it, face down, then slowly pushed it closed.

“Rest in peace, Mum,” I thought.

“You don't have to do that, Karen,” Jemima said softly.

I looked at her.

“Yes, I do,” I replied gently, “My Mum was very old fashioned, you know. She never tried to persuade me other than to teach me right from wrong and good manners and to respect the feelings of other people but I don't think she would have understood about us. I know she would never condemn me and would probably even accept us but she always hoped I would meet, marry and settle down with a nice boy and have a little family. I once hoped for that too but I have known for a long time that it was unlikely to happen.”

Jemima looked a little crestfallen, as though I had just run a knife through her heart and my own missed a beat as I realised how what I had just said must have sounded.

“Oh gosh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean that you are second best, far from it. I know, now, why that was never going to happen. All the years of searching, how could I have known that the one person who would eventually steal my heart would be a woman and not just any woman but you, Jemima!”

She smiled then, her face lighting up.

“We have so much to learn about each other, Karen,” she said, happily.

“Yes,” I agreed “and I hope we may have a life time for it.”

“Oh, wait!” Jemima exclaimed suddenly and turned and went quickly back to my room.

I was puzzled but didn't have to wait long to discover the reason for, almost as soon as she had disappeared, she was back but now she was holding the nightie I had given her and grinning broadly.

“I think,” she said with a slight chuckle, “That as this is a night of 'firsts' all round I will wear this, Just for you.”

I, too, began to chuckle.

“Oh Jemima,” I said, “You are incredible and wonderful and I am so happy just now. Happier than I think I have ever been.”

“Hmm...” she frowned, “Funny you should say that, I was just thinking that very same thing!”

I took the nightie from her and lay it across the bed.

I looked at her again and realised that there was no 'before', not one that mattered anyway. It was a strange feeling but not one that I had never felt before, a feeling of awkwardness and naivety. I felt it in the churchyard, a lifetime ago, when I had allowed Harry Simmonds to undress me and take my virginity. This was different, though, because now I knew. I didn't know what to do or to say but I knew. I knew that whatever happened next, Jemima would still be there in the morning, beside me.

“Karen, are you all right?”

Her voice pulled me from from my reverie and I smiled an nodded.

“Just thinking,” I replied.

“About?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing.”

She didn't pursue her questioning, maybe because the huge, subconscious smile I was wearing spoke volumes.

“Do you know...” I began.

She cocked her head to the side in her own inimitable way.

“I don't really know what to do now.”

She laughed and the sound was of the gently fall of summer rain or of a small stream splashing lazily over rocks and my heart soared at the sound.

“For the first time in my life,” she replied, “Neither do I!”

I hugged her tightly for a moment.

“We are like a couple of love struck teenagers,” I responded, also chuckling. “It is getting late though so I suggest we get to bed, get some sleep and see what tomorrow brings.”

She nodded her agreement and I unfastened my skirt, let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it.

I could not hang it in the wardrobe there as it was still full of my mother's clothes so I folded it and laid it carefully over the dressing table stool. I then began to unfasten the buttons of my white uniform blouse which I was still wearing.

“Wait!”

Jemima's voice stopped me in my tracks before I had even released the first button as she moved before me and took over the task I had begun, slowly undoing the small buttons, one by one.

None of the men I had been with had ever undressed me in such a way, slowly and loving.

No, every one of them, without exception had just wanted to get to my body as quickly as possible, some not even caring whether I undressed at all!

I remained still, arms by my sides, watching as each fastening was freed and my blouse slowly parted revealing my brassiere until, at the bottom, the final button popped silently open and the naked flesh of my flat, firm stomach was revealed.

Jemima held the crisp white fabric open and looked at me, admiring every inch of my body. That one action made my heart melt and I flushed with absolute adoration for this wonderful woman in front of me.

“You are beautiful, Karen,” she whispered and I felt a tear form in my eye and drip down my cheek. I had never been so happy as I was at that moment.

To be continued...