The Last Flight. Chapter 16 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight. Chapter 16

... little diamond shaped cut-outs in the shutters. Some time later, I heard a gentle creaking of timbers as someone walked carefully down the stairs. Each footstep coming very slowly after the previous one as whoever it was tried their utmost not to make a sound. “Sshhh...” I heard as the footsteps approached the final step, “Nous ne voulons pas la réveiller!” I imagined it was the two girls as the voices sounded young and, a moment later, Pascale's face appeared at the open door. “Good morning,” I said, “What time is it?” “You are awake!” she exclaimed. “Did we disturb you?” “ No,” I replied, smiling to put her at her ease, “I was not asleep.” “Would you like some tea?” she asked and then, as an after thought, “Or coffee?” “Coffee would be lovely, thank you, Pascale.” “Give us a minute and we will bring it to you,” she replied and before I had a chance to protest, she was gone. I lay still for a moment, listening to them pottering about the kitchen. I found it calming and such a relief that, for a while at least, I was not alone. I wasn't sure what had happened to me but since the crash I found I had a developed some sort of nervousness about having no-one around. Since my Mum was killed there had been nobody to come home to. It didn't seem to matter then. I went about my daily life thinking only of myself, taking care of my life and getting on with it but now? Now I listened to Pascale and Dominique in the kitchen and I realised that being alone wasn't such a great thing at ...

... all. I could hear them chatting quietly as they worked, the cups and saucers clinking and the smell of coffee wafted through the door as it percolated on the stove. How lucky they all were to have each other and get on so well. Before long, Dominique appeared and tapped gently on the door-frame before entering with a small tray. “Good Morning,” she said brightly. “Pascale didn't ask whether you wanted milk and sugar so I brought both for you.” I pushed myself up into a sitting position and she placed the tray beside me on the bed. “Thank you,” I said, pouring a little milk from the white enamel jug. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, “Were you comfortable?” “I was very comfortable, thank you,” I told her, avoiding the sleep part of the question. “You have a lovely home here.” “Yes, we do, thank you,” she replied but it was as if a shadow had passed over her. “Is something wrong?” I asked. “Not really, just that...” She seemed hesitant. “Well, I just wish Papa was here. Maman works so hard and I know she misses him.” “I am sure she does,” I agreed, “She has told me a little about him and I know she loved him very much.” “She gets lonely sometimes, I think,” Dominique said sadly, “I wish he was still here.” There was silence for a moment then her face suddenly brightened as if she had brushed away the sad thoughts and returned to her old self. “Would you like some breakfast?” she asked. “Oh, no. It's fine. I will wait until your mother and my father come down.” “All right,” she ...