Charlotte
December 24. As usual, the firm was about to close for the festive season. The presses would be stopped for the time being and even the proofreaders went home without a text and a deadline. The entire staff had gathered in the canteen, and Mr March, the big boss himself, handed out the Christmas boxes to all staff. To all staff present, that is - Charlotte Tenson, his secretary and general dogsbody, wasn't there. She hadn't been in for a week. "Okay then," March said. "One left." "Fatso's off sick," Dillon, one of the young employees who worked in the shipping department, said with a smirk. "Chubby Tubby..." He was a cocksure, good-looking young man with a sneering voice. March gave him a withering look and the young man's smirk faded from his face. March could get very angry, as everyone in the firm knew, and especially when it came to a lack of courtesy, he was never amused. He ran his business along the same lines as his father before him, somewhat old-fashioned but very solid. "If you can't behave..." he said. He didn't finish. He didn't have to; everyone knew exactly what he meant, and it was well understood that the young man had better not speak out of turn for the next three years - March had an elephant's memory. "Could anyone deliver this to Charlotte?" The young man who'd just been told off had to bite his tongue not to make another snide remark. Most others showed a lack of enthusiasm, too. March looked at his staff with raised eyebrows. Matt Thorne, one of the proof-readers, rather like Charlotte. He always said hello to her when he came to March's office - which wasn't too often as he generally used his email to get things done - and he'd always thought of Charlotte as a nice woman. She had auburn hair, a nice smile and she always greeted him by name. She must be in her early thirties, he guessed, and she invariably dressed well. She was somewhat plump - but in his opinion the nasty terms Dillon had used were completely beside the mark. On the contrary. He thought she was quite beautiful, and not a little attractive. He definitely thought March was right to silence Dillon. "Has she been ill long?" he asked. "I certainly don't mind delivering the box to her - if it doesn't take me hours, at least. Where does she live?" March explained. It was roughly in his direction; it would take him about half an hour extra, he expected. "That's near enough. I'll go and see to it that she gets it," he said. "Thank you, Matt," March said. He lived in the other direction altogether. "Charlotte is a good girl and she really deserves it. I do appreciate it!" "Right-oh," Matt said. He had always been on speaking terms with March, and he'd known his mannerisms for a long time. March's appreciation was real; he smiled a little. "I think everyone deserves some good cheer. She actually knows my name, even though I don't see her too often." Dillon looked at Matt in a pitying way, but Matt stared him down. If the younger man thought he could get away with such behaviour, the more fool he. "She knows everyone by name - and most by character," March said pointedly. He wished everybody a good time and a good Christmas, and the staff slowly left for their cars. Matt carried the two boxes along and dumped them onto the back seat. He'd been given Charlotte's address and punched it into his satnav. Then he drove off. He had no trouble getting to Charlotte's abode. There were no lights on in the house she lived in, and the upper floor curtains were closed fast. Matt pulled up at the kerb, walked up the steps, and rang the bell. It took a very long time before he heard uncertain footsteps come shuffling down the hall, and Charlotte who opened the door looked a sight. My God, Matt thought, she's really ill. "H-h-h-hello, M-M-M-Matt," Charlotte said. "I-I..." She stood swaying on her feet. Matt put the box down and grabbed her shoulders just in time - she was about to keel over. "Shhh! I'll go and help you back to bed first," he said, "and then you may talk, ok?" Charlotte nodded miserably. She let herself be led upstairs by Matt, who put an arm around her waist. Her bedroom door was open, and he noticed a sour smell. Matt inspected the bed; Charlotte had obviously been sick in it. "Come," Matt said, "you cannot go back into that. Let me see to it first, please." He let her down into a chair, slowly, and then he methodically stripped the bed. He looked in the wardrobe for sheets and pillowcases, and quickly remade it. Then he told Charlotte to take off her robe. The nightdress under it was soiled; she apparently had thrown up over it when she was sick. "Charlotte," Matt said, "you can't go to bed again in these. Can you change on your own, or do you want me to help? Or is there anyone I can call?" Charlotte shook her head slowly. Her loneliness and Matt's having to see her like this were just too much. To Matt's embarrassment, she began to cry soundlessly. "No friends? No family?" Charlotte sniffed. "One friend, but she's gone to her family up north, and my family's up north, too - what's left of it." "Okay, then," Matt said. "Shall I help you?" She sighed, but she nodded. "Yes" she said. "Please - don't laugh." Matt raised his eyebrows, but he set about helping her get undressed. Her nightclothes were really dirty and they smelled awful. He couldn't help looking at her breasts as he lifted her nightgown over her head. They were big, with really large areola, and, he thought, very beautiful. There was a washbasin in the corner of the bedroom, and Matt went and turned on the tap. It didn't take too long before the water was warm enough to wash Charlotte a little. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm no professional. I'll do my best to get you a little fresher, though." Charlotte let herself be washed. She was too tired to try and do so herself, and she realised that Matt was right, she couldn't go back to bed between clean sheets in a soiled nightgown. She actually didn't mind his hands on her; he was tender and fast, and perhaps not professional, but good enough, and he didn't recoil from her body. Matt had to make an effort not to pay too much attention to those beautiful breasts. He rather enjoyed washing her. She was really plump, exactly the way he liked - not, he thought, like those emaciated catwalk models with their sunken cheeks and staring eyes, or his one-time mistake of a girlfriend. Just a nice, soft handful of a woman. He inwardly grimaced at his thoughts. When he had got her fresh and smelling good again he went and found a clean nightgown and a pair of panties, and he helped her into them. "That's better," he said. "Would you like to visit the toilet first?" Charlotte shook her head. "No," she said. "There's n-nothing left inside." "Hmmm. You'd better change that! We don't want you dehydrated!" "I had a l-l-little water - but there's n-nothing l-l-left in the house, and I'm not fi-f-f-fit enough to make some t-t-tea..." Her teeth were still chattering, and Matt took her arm and helped her onto her bed. Then he tucked her in. "I want you to get warm," he said, "and I'll go and inspect your larder and then I'll bring you something to drink first." He went downstairs, to find the front door still ajar, and the Christmas box sitting on the top step. It had started to drizzle, and he quickly picked up the box and closed the door. He entered the kitchen and went through her fridge and her cupboards. She was right; there wasn't anything there, apart from a few tea bags. Nor did the pantry offer anything much. He opened the Christmas box to find some orange juice - not useful now, he thought - and a lot of stuff that would be great for a hale person, but not for Charlotte in this state. He made her a cup of weak tea and took it up to her. He propped her up and fed her the tea. He found a thermometer in the bathroom and took her temperature. It was only 37.9, to his relief. No immediate need to call a doctor. He told her he would be away for a little time to do the shopping. Where could he find her keys? She told him, and he left the house. Boy, what a good thing he'd gone to deliver that box! The poor girl. She must have had an awful week. The drizzle had turned into a steady downpour, and he hurriedly got into his car. It had been grey for the past ten days - just the weather to go with Christmas, it seemed. A white Christmas? Pah! Grey and dull green, just the way he usually felt around the festive season. He went to Tesco's in the neighbourhood and bought everything he thought he might need - food, some candles, something nice for when she'd feel better, a bottle of wine - and he stopped by at an off-licence for a bottle of his favourite whisky. He was satisfied with his shopping, and he went back immediately. He took his purchases into the kitchen and went upstairs to have a look at Charlotte. She lay on her side, fast asleep; she hugged the duvet so that he had a good view of her back and bottom, in a pair of thin, pink panties. The sight was good for another couple of uncalled-for thoughts. He carefully took the duvet from her embrace and covered her up, and he stood looking at her sleep for a little while, shaking his head. Then Matt went down and unpacked his purchases and put them away, together with the contents of the Christmas box. He put a kettle with water on the stove and then went upstairs again to collect the sheets and clothes to be washed. The wash basket was full, too, and he first put the contents onto three heaps - the 90 degrees stuff, the 60 degrees stuff and the 30 degrees ones. It was a good thing he was a self-sufficient single man who knew how to do for himself. There was one week's underwear in the basket. Charlotte couldn't be too negative about her figure, he thought; she wore beautiful underthings. He felt himself getting hot and bothered, sorting them out and imagining Charlotte dressed in them. He decided to do the sheets first - they might be needed again soon, after all. While the machine was working, he cooked some rice and chicken, and he prepared some crackers with cheese. When everything was ready he took the food and another mug of tea up to his charge on a tray. Charlotte was still asleep. She had turned over and now she lay facing him. Matt put down the tray and sat in the chair she'd used while he was making the bed, looking at her. Her auburn hair lay plastered to her forehead, and the eyes under the dark lashes were closed. She had a sweet face with a really beautiful mouth, and Matt wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Oh well, that wasn't what he was here for. If he didn't wake her, the food would go cold. "Charlotte?" he said. She opened her eyes and looked at the room. Then she saw him, apparently, and she blushed. It made her look even more attractive, Matt thought, and he wondered why she blushed. "I prepared some food for you," he said. "Do you think you'd like to try?" She nodded. "I'd better," she said. "B-b-but..." "I'll try and help out," Matt said. "B-b-but..." she said again, "m-m-mustn't you go home?" Matt gave her a smile that, he hoped, might be comforting. "Not I," he said. "No pets, no people. I'm master of my own time. Come, let's try and get you back to health again, okay?" "Yes, please," Charlotte said. "It's really no p-problem for you?" Matt shook his head. "Really and truly," he said. "I was prepared to have a lonely Christmas, reading, but it seems Lady Luck had different ideas. So I'll be here for the time being. I hope you'll want to celebrate Christmas with me." He propped her up in the bed, and draped her gown round her shoulders. "Hmm," he said and wrinkled his nose. "Your gown could do with a soak, too." Then he sat down on the edge and said, "Rice and chicken, or crackers and cheese?" He grinned. "I'm afraid I won't make a very good air-hostess." It produced a faint smile on Charlotte's face. "Rice and chicken, please," she said. "And I think I like to have you around." Matt nodded. "Good," he said. "Because I'll be here till you're really better again. I'll feed you, okay?" Charlotte nodded. Her hands were too shaky. Matt fed her small spoonfuls and slowly but surely Charlotte ate a little over half the portion Matt had made. Then she said it was alright, and could she have some crackers later? "Sure," Matt said. "More tea then - you'll have to make sure you drink enough." She slowly drank the tea - she could just manage. Matt watched her drink. Even in this situation she was really beautiful, he thought. She had big brown eyes, a sweet mouth, soft cheeks... Come on, brother, he thought, stop it! But it didn't work, and he found it hard to take his eyes from her face and from the indication of her breasts under the gown. When she'd finished he took the mug from her. He brought her her toothbrush and when she'd brushed her teeth he helped her to lie down. "I'll have to leave you alone for a while," he said, "to pick up a pair of pyjamas, my sponge bag and a change of underwear. Do you have a spare bedroom? I can bring an air mattress if need be." "Next room on the landing," Charlotte said. "Will you look in on me when you're back?" "Of course. Is there anything I can bring to entertain you?" "I just love it when there's someone there. Er... You could read to me, perhaps?" Matt smiled. "I'll see what I can do," he said. "I may be so boring a reader that you'll fall asleep. And I'll bring some music and stuff." He tucked his charge in. "Will you be alright?" he said. "Or should I take you to the bathroom first?" Charlotte shook her head. She lay looking at him from her pillow, smiling at him - a little tiredly, but smiling. Her hair lay around her head on the pillow, and Matt was glad he had a reason to leave the bedroom before he'd say or do something awkward. "I'll be back soon, Charlotte," he said. "Later!" He took her robe downstairs and put it in the machine, with a few other items of clothing. Then he left the house. Charlotte lay drowsily thinking about the previous week and the day's events. She'd come home feeling knackered, and she didn't have much of an appetite. She had been too tired to go shopping, and she'd eaten the last food in the house. That night she fell really ill. She couldn't remember what had happened, but she had emptied her stomach and she'd been too ill to reach the bathroom - she'd been too ill to get up. She'd slept most of the time. Today was the first day that she felt even a little better. The woozy dreams had stopped; that was one thing. She knew Matt by face and by name, but he seldom came to the office. He had always seemed a very pleasant person, cheerful, friendly and handsome enough. She'd never expected she'd come to talk to him much; but he was a pleasant nurse, she thought. To her delight, he didn't seem to think she was an ugly, fat woman. She'd received an anonymous letter some ten weeks ago that simply said, "Chubby "Fatso" Tubby - yech!" Her thyroid gland had always been a problem, and it made it hard if not plain impossible to regulate her weight too well. She tried to, nevertheless, and she thought she had it reasonably under control. It seemed a lot of men didn't think so, though. Mr. March was alright. And Matt. He'd always looked at her as if she was a normal woman, and not some monstrosity. Dwight, her one-time boyfriend, had loved her - but he had contracted lung cancer and died when he was only twenty-one. She vaguely wondered what it was like not be alone all the time. Jessie, her friend, was usually there for her - but it wasn't the same; it wasn't someone to wake up with, to go through life with. Much too bossy, for one thing. And she wasn't attracted to women at all. She fell asleep on that thought. Matt drove home in about twenty minutes. He deposited the Christmas box on the kitchen table, went upstairs and chucked everything he wanted into a small suitcase - clothes, razor, some books, a few CDs and his laptop. Then he locked the door and drove back. He first went into the kitchen. The washing machine had ended its programme and he hung some of the clothes on a line in the scullery and put the robe in the tumble dryer. He loaded the machine again with Charlotte's underwear and a few T-shirts. He made another mug of tea, and a cup of coffee for himself, and went upstairs with the mugs on a tray and his suitcase. He put the tray down on the floor outside the bedroom, dropped his suitcase on the bed in the spare room and took out the books he'd brought to read to Charlotte. He went back to the landing, picked up the tray and went into her bedroom. She hadn't moved since he'd left and she lay peacefully sleeping on her back. He moved the small table a little closer to the chair, put the tray and books on top and sat down. He looked at the sleeping beauty for a moment - and then he coughed softly. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. When she registered his presence, she smiled. "Hi! So you're back," she said. "Yes," Matt said. "I like looking at you sleep. You do look a little better." "I feel a little better, too. I'm thirsty, though." "That's good. I made you some more tea - better take it a little slowly at first." He picked up the mug and gave it to her. Then he sat down to have his coffee while Charlotte drank her tea. When she had finished her mug he took it from her, and she lay down under the duvet and looked at him. "It's the twenty-fourth today, isn't it?" "It is," Matt said. "Christmas Eve... Look, there's a bottle of wine in the Christmas box - I chose what's in them, you know. I would have bought some candles to create some atmosphere, if I'd not fallen ill, but I'd love you to have a glass up here - that will feel a little Christmassy, at least. Will you?" "Of course. Can I bring you anything?" Charlotte shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. "Okay then." Matt went downstairs and opened the wine bottle. There were no wine glasses in the kitchen, so he inspected the cupboard in the living-room. Yes - right at once. He poured himself a glass. He took it upstairs with a box of matches, a few of the candles and a couple of saucers to place them on. He found Charlotte still wide awake. When she saw the candles her eyes lit up, and she said, "Oh - how nice! That's really nice! We can have a little Christmas together." So Matt had felt that it would be nice to have some Christmas cheer, too - with her! Then she rubbed her eyes. "Sorry," she said. "It's stupid, but I'm just so happy to have you here." She sniffed and blew her nose in a tissue from a box on her bedside table. "Good," Matt said, and smiled at her. "Cheers, Charlotte! I'm glad to be here." He raised his glass and nodded at her. "Shall I read to you, then - or would you rather take a nap?" "Please!" she said. "As if I could sleep now." Matt nodded. "Shall I choose?" he asked. "Yes, please," Charlotte agreed. "Good. I'd like to start with a chapter from a children's book, right?" Charlotte didn't protest, so Matt opened the top book. "This is from The Wind in the Willows, a chapter called 'Dulce Domum'," he began. "The sheep ran huddling together against the hurdles..." Charlotte lay listening to him read Kenneth Grahame's story of the Mole and the Water Rat preparing the coming of the Yule-tide carol singers at Mole's home. She remembered having read it, long ago; she'd forgotten, but it came back slowly but surely. She'd not realised then how well-written it was. She quite enjoyed listening to Matt read. He apparently knew the story well and he paused in the right places. Matt looked at his charge now and then, and rejoiced in what he saw. He imagined there was a little colour coming back to Charlotte's face, and she apparently enjoyed being read to. When he closed the book Charlotte smiled at him. "Thank you, Matt," she said. "Lovely - and so nice and appropriate just now." "Glad you like it," he said. "Hey, please excuse me for a moment. I'll have to go and make myself a few sandwiches. I completely forgot to have anything to eat." "Oh Matt! That's all because of me!" "It's just me being stupid," Matt said and grinned at her. "Be right back!" He quickly went into the kitchen. He hadn't realised till then, but he felt ravenous. He prepared a couple of sandwiches and took them up to Charlotte with the crackers and cheese he'd made for her and the wine bottle. "I've brought you something to eat, too, but only if you feel like it," he said. Charlotte declined. She lay watching Matt eat. It was really nice to have someone here at this time of the year. She knew the bone-chilling feeling of being alone, and it was a wonderful change. Matt looked back and smiled. She liked his smile - she knew it from the office. It was as comforting as his presence. She'd felt absolutely awful when he rang the bell, and now she thought she would be alright. Hopefully she wouldn't be well too soon... She blushed at the unspoken thoughts behind it. Matt finished his sandwiches. "Okay," he said, "are you up to another story?" "Yes, please! It's really nice, lying here listening to you - and you do not sound boring at all." "I brought another Christmas story for you, by Dylan Thomas. I hope you don't know it?" "No, I don't think so. I know some of his poems, and 'Under Milk Wood'." "Richard Burton?" She nodded. "I hope you'll like this. It's called A Child's Christmas in Wales. Matt poured himself another glass of wine and took a sip. Then he started to read. "One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now..." Charlotte lay back against the pillow. She listened to the story, looking at Matt and at the candles burning on the low table beside him, and she realised she actually quite enjoyed it. Matt had a nice face, and a nice voice, and he was a good nurse and companion. She let the story draw her in. Sometimes she grinned at the images used, and sometimes she sighed. The 'few small aunts, not wanted in the kitchen, nor anywhere else for that matter' came a little too close to the way she sometimes felt. But all in all she really enjoyed the story. When Matt finished reading she sighed, smiled and said, "That was really nice, Matt! I grew up in a town like that." "Okay. Where?" "In Wales. In Cardiff, actually." She smiled while she thought about it. It had been a nice time. "My parents moved to London when I was sixteen." "How old are you now?" Matt asked. "Early thirties?" "I'm thirty-eight," Charlotte said, blushing with joy. "Really?" "Uhuh. And you?" "I'm forty-two." "Okay. And you don't have a girlfriend?" Mat shook his head. "I lived together with one for some years. It seemed all right at first, but we gradually drifted apart. In the end the only thing we still shared was a taste for some kinds of music, really." He grinned. "Jackie was really thin - everything was thin about her. Her body, her sense of humour, her smile. She had a nice face, but it just didn't work out." "Do you like thin women?" "No. I just liked her because of what we had together at first, but I'd have preferred her a bit plumper." He looked at Charlotte and smiled. She was the very image of the woman he'd like to see. When he was seventeen, he'd had a crush on a woman he knew, who was some ten years older. She had been quite a character, he thought. She had smoked a briar, dressed in men's boots, but had worn her hair long and had a beautiful smile. One evening they had danced together, and she had given him his first taste of a French kiss. He had also experienced the sensation of feeling a woman's breasts pressing into him for the first time. He could still remember; his girlfriend's breasts had been nothing like it. Charlotte, now... "Like you," he added. Charlotte blushed again. "Really?" she said. "You don't think of me as Chubby Tubby?" "No! Definitely not! Where did you pick up those words?" Charlotte turned beet red. "They were in a letter. There was no addressee, of course..." Matt had to wait for some seconds before he spoke, to keep his voice down. That bloody bastard! "That's absolutely horrible and unacceptable! I think I know who it was from. I'll have a word with March; if I'm right, the writer will be out on his ear before the New Year." "He's in our firm, then?" "He is. Still. Charlotte, I think you're a beautiful woman. Let's forget about him for now and have a nice time, shall we?" Charlotte blushed again, happily this time. Matt thought it made her look incredibly sexy. "Do let's," she said. "Let's just talk a little, please?" "Okay. Do tell me, what happened since you went home?" She told him, briefly, without too many embellishments. Matt shook his head. "It's a pity you didn't tell March exactly what was up," he said. "He'd certainly have taken measures. On the other hand, I wouldn't have been here now celebrating Christmas with such a nice companion. Shall I bring my laptop up here tomorrow for some Christmas music?" "Music would be nice! And what will you read to me tomorrow?" "I brought a short whodunit, just in case, but if you don't think it's too trite I'd rather read A Christmas Carol to you." "Oh, yes! I love Dickens - and as it's Christmas tomorrow..." She didn't finish, but she smiled at Matt in a way that did something in his belly that he had completely forgotten could happen, something a little disturbing but very pleasant. "Then Dickens it'll be," he said. Charlotte smiled. Then she sighed and looked at Matt. "I think I'd better go to sleep now," she said. "Do you mind?" "Of course not," he said. He got up and took the candles to the landing to blow them out. He collected the things he brought onto the tray and put them out on the landing. Then he went to the head of the bed. "How about going for a wee first?" he said. Charlotte nodded. "I think I'd better," she said. Matt helped her along the landing to the bathroom. She was very uncertain on her legs, and she once almost fell but for Matt's presence. When they'd arrived Matt had to help her sit down; she could push down her panties herself. Matt looked away while she relieved herself, but he couldn't help listening. That's something, he thought. Back to recovery. Then he took her back to the bedroom. After he helped her brush her teeth he shook up her pillow as she sat down on the bed, and he tucked her in. "Sleep sweet, Charlotte," he said, and he kissed her on her forehead. She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you very much, Matt," she said. Then she grinned. "Could you sing me a lullaby?" she asked playfully. Matt was glad it wasn't too light in the bedroom, for he blushed all over as her kiss affected him physically more than he'd have allowed himself, had he been able to. He cleared his throat and sang Golden Slumbers to her. She smiled at him and it made his heart turn over. "Goodnight, Charlotte," he whispered. Then he left the room. Charlotte smiled drowsily. Life felt very good suddenly, she thought. Very good. She fell asleep almost immediately. Matt put the books in the room next door, and the candles on a low cupboard on the landing. There were some things to be done downstairs, and he went there to carry them out. The washing machine was ready and he hung the clothes on the line. He wished he could see some of the underwear on Charlotte. He washed the dishes, hoovered the ground floor and put the kitchen in order before he sat down in the living room with one more glass of wine. There wasn't anything worth watching on TV - nor did he like watching TV very much. Instead he looked about the room, wondering what it could tell him about Charlotte. There was a bookcase that held mainly nineteenth century literature, including a complete series of Dickens, and some modern stuff. The bottom shelf was devoted to whodunits, most of them by female writers, and there was a small selection of poetry. She apparently liked reading, which was to be expected in their firm. There was a stereo in the corner, rather a cheap one, he thought, with a collection of CDs in two tall racks. He went and had a look. It was an eclectic collection, ranging from Mahler to Tom Waits, and he put Blue Valentine into the CD player. He pressed play and adjusted the sound level. Then he sat down, stretched his legs and finally allowed himself to feel tired. Blue Valentine was one of Matt's favourites albums. He had always thought the one thing missing on it was Martha, but of course that was on a different album. Still... He got up and had a go through Charlotte's CDs once more. Closing Time was there. Good! Mmmm... What a woman. Had he been blind or what? He closed his eyes and saw her face, her smile, and her breasts in his mind's eye. He'd be there as long as she was ill, and then - then he would try and win her over for himself. He wished she were in his arms. Having her smile at him then...he almost ached with the unexpected need of her. He played Closing Time in its entirety, and then went to bed, happy to be there. He first looked in on Charlotte. The light from the landing was enough to see her lying fast asleep, one arm under her head and her hair half across her face. She seemed to be smiling in her sleep - he wished it was because of him. He could make out her body under the duvet. She was beautiful. Okay - bedtime. He had a quick shower and brushed his teeth. Then he went to bed. He lay awake for a long time, smiling and thinking about Charlotte. That kiss... When he woke up that Christmas morning he had to think for a moment before he realised where he was. Oh yes. Charlotte! He got up, put on his robe over his pyjamas and went next door. When he came in Charlotte was still asleep, but she woke up almost immediately. She looked around, saw Matt, and smiled. "Happy Christmas, Charlotte," he said. He bent over and kissed her cheek. "Happy Christmas, Matt," she said. "I'm glad you're here - I dreamt of you." She blushed. "And you have no idea how happy I am to be able to celebrate Christmas together!" "Same here, beautiful," Matt said, and smiled at her. "Come, how about a visit to the bathroom?" "Yes, please!" Matt accompanied her, and he noticed she was a little less shaky on her legs. "Getting a bit better, aren't you?" he said. She nodded, but she watched her step and held tightly on to him. He felt her left breast touch his arm; it made him think of washing her the day before and it made him go half hard. He hoped she didn't notice. Oh well, if she did, it couldn't be helped. After the bathroom, he took her back to her bed, and said, "What would you like for breakfast, my lady?" She grinned. "I'll have the cheese sandwich with tea, please," she said. "Toasted or plain?" "Plain, please. And perhaps I can try my tea a little stronger?" Matt went downstairs and returned with their breakfasts on a tray. He put the tea on the bedside table and the plate before her on the duvet. "Can you manage?" he said. She nodded. "Could you light those candles again?" she said. Mat grinned, and went to get them. They sat in silence for a while, having their breakfast. Then Charlotte sighed and put her mug down. "That's good," she said. "I'm feeling a lot better. Didn't you have any plans at all for Christmas, Matt?" "No," Matt said. "I usually go to sleep until it's over." He grinned at her. "But then, I never had the chance to celebrate it with such a lovely companion." "Thank you! You really don't mind being here?" "Honestly. I hope I'll have to nurse you a little longer." She blushed. "You're a sweet talker," she said. "I mean it," Matt said. "I'm looking forward to spending these days with you. So you'd better resign yourself to my presence." He grinned and got up to remove the breakfast things. "Would you like any more tea, or food?" Charlotte shook her head. "I'm not a big eater, you know. I do like something really nice at times all right, but..." "So you might say yes when I ask you out for a meal?" "Yes, I would! When?" He looked at her to find her smiling sweetly, with a happy gleam in her eyes. "Let's say New Year's eve, if you're well again." "Yes, please! Sounds very nice!" She sat up and passed her hands over her cheeks. "I wouldn't be up to it now," she added. "But I'm looking forward to listening to you read." Matt nodded. "Excellent," he said. "I'll go and put the breakfast things into the dishwasher, shower, and then I'll help you wash. Okay?" "Yes, please!" She lay back and looked at Matt tidying things up. He smiled at her for a moment. It made her feel all warm inside. He was really nice, she thought. She realised she was actually looking forward to being washed; it was nice to be touched by him. "Soon!" he said as he left the room. She heard him descend the stairs, and thought to herself how happy she was it had been Matt who'd undertaken to deliver the Christmas box to her door. He'd patiently waited for her to open the door, and he'd taken charge. Best of all, he looked at her as if he really liked what he saw, and she liked everything she knew about him. Everything. Since she had first met him, she had developed a little bit of a crush on him, if she were honest, but had valiantly suppressed it because, as she kept telling herself, she really knew next to nothing about him, and he didn't seem like the kind of man to want someone like her around. And good looks didn't mean a good heart, anyway. Seems she had been wrong about that. She lay thinking about him a bit when she slowly dropped off to sleep again. Matt poured himself another cuppa, cleared their breakfast away, and checked the washing he'd hung to dry. Done, all of it. Good. He would take it off the line and fold it when Charlotte had her afternoon nap. He took a swig of his tea and then his cell phone beeped. He took it from his robe pocket. "Hello?" "March here. I couldn't reach you yesterday - how was Charlotte?" "Poorly to say the least. But she is improving. I'm nursing her a bit; she was too weak to make even a cup of tea." "You're at her place then?" "Uhuh. Someone ought to take care of her." "Oh - and your Christmas?" "Much nicer with Charlotte than on my own. I'm rather enjoying myself." "Good man. I do appreciate that. Did she see a doctor?" "She was without fever yesterday evening - I think she will be all right with some extra care." "Okay. Well, hmm... Thank you, Matt. I do value her a lot, you know - when I'm uncertain whether or not to publish anything I ask her, and she's invariably right. So, hope you'll manage." "I think I will. Oh, March, there's one thing you may do something about. Charlotte received an anonymous letter saying, 'Chubby Tubby,' and I think I've heard those words before." "She did? How exceedingly rude! I will take care of that. That dirty so and so! Can't have that in my firm. You can tell Charlotte I will see to it, please." "Good. Thank you!" "And say hello to her for me, will you?" Matt promised, they said their goodbyes and rang off. Matt went upstairs quickly. Charlotte was still asleep, and he went and showered first. When he felt nice and clean, he went back to Charlotte's bedroom. He'd brought Dickens and some proof reading to while away the time, but he'd only read as far as the second page when Charlotte opened her eyes. "Hi," she said. "I feel a lot better! I'm up to being washed now." She gave him an angelic smile, and he felt himself going hot inside. "All right," he said. "By the way, I had a call from March. He asked me to say hello; I think he was a little worried about you. And he'll take care of that anonymous letter. Let's get you freshed up." She sat up and put her legs across the edge of the bed. "March is a good boss," she said. "He is," Matt agreed. "Shall we go to the bathroom? Or do we wash you here?" "I would love a bath," Charlotte said. "I'm still a little shaky on my legs." "Okay. I'll go set the water, shall I? Be right back, okay?" Matt went to run her bath, searching for and finding bath salts which he added to the water before returning to her bedroom to get her. "Right," he said. "Let's get you into the bath, shall we?" He led her to the bathroom, and helped her undress. Matt felt himself go hard at once. Damn. Charlotte was beautiful, sweet, sexy - the sight of her body worked directly on his crotch. He bent over to pick up her panties and tossed them to the door. Then he helped her into the tub. "Good girl," he said, and smiled at her. She smiled back, rubbed her cheeks and then lifted the water to her face, sniffing it delightedly. He fetched the washcloth and went to Charlotte. "Face first," he said. She washed her face, looking at him earnestly. He used the dry washcloth to dry her face, then handed it to her, so she could help herself. He decided that he'd better just enjoy watching her wash herself, and help if she got tired. He'd stay hard anyway, whether he'd try to land himself with a guilt complex or not, and he actually didn't feel guilty. On the contrary. He washed her back when she asked him to, and then watched as she washed her breasts and belly. Her breasts looked even better than he remembered, and he loved the curve of her belly, too - nicely rounded and really feminine. It didn't help him much when he saw her nipples get hard. Oh well, he thought, she can't mind too much. Or she feels cold - but he rather didn't think so. He took the towel and dried her face and upper body before taking care of her lower half. Two more hurdles - her sex and her bottom. Charlotte half rose and held on to Matt, and asked him to wash her lower back, and he happily obliged, enjoying the feel of those beautiful half-moons. He loved to touch their curves and to feel the way they passed into her legs, and he ran the washcloth between them, from the top to her rosebud. The feeling made her shiver a little, and she held on to his arm and the side of the tub firmly. She sat back and took the washcloth from him, taking care of her lower belly and her sex. Mmm... He watched as the cloth slid down her nicely curved belly to her vulva, with the soft, auburn hair, and then as she washed herself in the place he was finding himself increasingly wanting to touch. The sight of her touching herself made him raging hard, and he had to stop himself from groaning. When she washed her legs and feet and then wrung out the rag and handed it to him, her cheeks rosy with feeling, he clenched his jaw tight, and let her finish herself while he smiled at her obvious arousal. Charlotte felt very aroused by the way Matt's eyes ate her up as he watched her wash herself. She could see he obviously liked her body, and that made her feel really warm inside. She stood up with his help, and Matt dried her off softly, draped her in her robe and led her back to her bedroom, where he retrieved a clean pair of panties for her. Charlotte had sat down again. The washing had made her feel all rosy, and her nipples tingled. She wondered if it was just the washing or rather the fact that Matt had helped her do it that was making her body flush with heat. She suspected it was the latter. When he handed her her panties, she flashed him a bright smile. Oh baby, Matt thought, you don't know what you're doing to me. Charlotte pulled them up around her bottom. They fitted snugly, Matt saw. Nice, he thought. He'd love to feel her bottom through the thin material. He picked up the nightgown and held it up for her to put on, sneaking a peek at her breasts while Charlotte was putting her head through the fabric. Then he helped her lie back in bed and went to let the water out of the bath. Having set the room back to rights, he returned to find Charlotte snuggled up under the blankets, and she gave him a warm smile. "Do you like Christmas music?" she asked. "Depends," Matt said. "I like carols when sung well, and some of the popular stuff, and baroque Christmas concerts, and The Messiah - my parents once took me to hear it at the Royal Albert Hall. There was a very large choir. In the louder parts, it made your hair move. I've loved it ever since. But I don't like schmaltz too much, and I hate the lyrics of some of the modern Christmas songs - they can be positively moronic." "I have a copy of The Messiah on CD - could we listen to it together?" "Okay. Then we'll have Dickens this afternoon, after your nap, right?" She smiled and nodded. "There's a CD player in the kitchen," she said. "Not too fantastic, but better that a laptop." "Okay! I'll go and get it. Can I make you something to drink?" "I'd like to try a cup of coffee. Do you think that'd be alright?" "I think so, since you feel like it. I'll be right back!" Charlotte watched him leave the room. She felt much happier celebrating Christmas than she had in years - even though she didn't feel quite well yet. But she hadn't felt so truly appreciated for a long time. He made her feel feminine and beautiful. Her pussy still tingled and she found it with her hand. She touched her nub, and started to rub herself, imagining Matt was watching her, imagining it was him touching her instead. Matt hurried downstairs and put water on for the coffee. Doing things might expel the hot and bothered feeling the washing had instilled in him, he hoped. It did. He carried the CD player upstairs and put it into Charlotte's bedroom, then he went downstairs again. He finished his arrangements within ten minutes. Charlotte lay waiting for him, and she gave him a beatific smile when he came in. He smiled back and put the tray with the coffee and the CD box on the chair. Then he handed Charlotte a mug of coffee. "Here you are," he said. Charlotte took the mug from him and they drank their coffee in companionable silence. Matt, who liked his coffee hot, finished first. "It's okay?" he asked, watching Charlotte sip. "Yes, it's fine!" she said. "Good!" Matt said. "How about a chocolate?" Charlotte shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "This afternoon, maybe?" "I hope so," Matt said. "But you should have one," Charlotte said. "Please do!" Matt smiled and had one. Then he found a power point to plug in the CD player and put in the first CD, and when he saw Charlotte had emptied her mug, he said, "Here goes - to Christmas!" He switched on the music and sat back, listening to Handel's magnum opus with a smile, and looking at Charlotte who lay listening and staring into the candlelight on the low table beside him. Now and then she looked at him for a moment and he immensely enjoyed the way she looked. He'd have given rather more than a penny for her thoughts, but he didn't want to interrupt the music; there would be ample time to talk afterwards. After the aria He was Despised, the music stopped. "Wow," Matt said. "You've got a beautiful performance on CD, Charlotte!" "Thank you," she said. "I think so, too. Shall we have another coffee first?" "Good idea," Matt said. "I'll be back soon!" He went to her to collect her mug. She smiled and put a hand on his arm. "I'm so, so happy to have such a nice nurse," she said. She smiled at him, and to Matt's surprise he saw a few slow tears run down her cheeks. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped them away. Then he took her head in his hands. He had an idea that he knew where those tears came from, and he said, "I'm happy to be here with you, too, beautiful! Let me get that coffee for you!" He was back in a jiffy. "Here you are," he said, and then he sat down on the edge of the bed to have his own coffee. "Tell me," he said, "What do you usually do around Christmas? Can I do something to make it nicer?" Charlotte looked at him. She liked his eyes. They were blue-grey, and they seemed to be a little sleepy, but she'd noticed that when she mentioned the letter she'd got, they could flash with anger. It was nice to have someone angry for her. It was nice to share things. That was the main thing. His hair was darkish - not really dark, but certainly not blonde. She wished she could run her hand through it. She smiled at him. "I usually try to dress my house up a bit - to make it look nice, with some candles and a wreath and things - and then I pretend Christmas is a good, warm time. I usually succeed in tricking myself." She smiled a little. "Sometimes I visit my friend on Christmas day, when she's down here. But she always has her family over, and I usually feel a bit surplus to requirements. It's safer here. I used to love Christmas when I was a child, and I had a boyfriend once. He died of cancer. Ever since, I've lived on my own, and Christmas has been a hard time, best spent alone and not thought about too much. Really a time of pretending for me." Matt nodded. "I know," he said. "You're not alone in feeling like that. Celebrating is a matter of sharing, right? So when you have no one to share with, there's only pretence left." He grinned. "March was worried my Christmas would be ruined by nursing you. On the contrary, it's my first real Christmas in years." He was silent for some time. "I really enjoy this. And I'm very happy to be getting to know you; I've learnt a huge lot about you already." He stroked her cheek for a moment. Then he took a sip of his coffee. "Don't let yours get cold," he added. Charlotte dutifully drank her coffee, smiling a little at Matt's words. She loved feeling him close to her, on the edge of the bed. She wished she could prolong the moment forever. She looked at his hands. They didn't only feel good on her, gentle and warm, but they looked good, too. She liked the small hairs on his wrists, and the shape of his fingernails. "Yes," she said. "This is what I remember about Christmas, being together with someone you are really comfortable with, and feeling happy, and warm. Being together." She smiled, a little wistfully. "If I hadn't fallen ill, I'd have been on my own now, looking for a way not to feel the loneliness of a Christmas Day, when everything is closed and people are celebrating with their families, and when you are supposed to be happy and cheerful." Matt nodded. "So at least something good has come of it for the two of us." He smiled at Charlotte, and she knew he meant it. She blushed, and smiled back at him. Matt held out his hand to take her empty mug, and he got up off the bed. "Shall we go and listen to the second part?" he said. "Yes, please," she said. She wished he'd just came back to sit beside her - perhaps stroke her hair, or something. But at least he was in the room, and she could look at him, and he looked at her, and it all felt good. Matt started the second disc, and Surely He Hath Borne Our Griefs filled the bedroom. The second disc lasted for well over an hour, too, and when it finished it was lunchtime. Matt took Charlotte's orders with a grin; she obviously was getting an appetite again. Good! He pottered about happily in the kitchen, and went upstairs with his tray to find Charlotte sitting up, smiling at him. "I'm really looking forward to a bite to eat," she said. "I thought there was some life coming back to you," Matt said and grinned. He put a tea towel on the duvet in front of her and placed the plate with food on top of it. "Do you think you can manage?" She nodded. "Yes," she said. "Thanks to the perfect treatment I'm getting." She gave him another of her heart-stopping smiles. "You make me feel quite lively again. I'm really looking forward to the Christmas Carol." "All right. But I'll want you to take a nap first, young lady." She nodded. "I guess I'd better," she said. Then she tucked into her lunch with an obvious appetite, to Matt's satisfaction. He sat down with his plate on his knees and began to eat, too. He usually was a fast eater, and when he'd finished he took his plate out on the landing, and went back into the room. "How did you come to work for March?" he said when he saw Charlotte had finished. Charlotte smiled a little. She put down her cutlery. "I just applied when he wanted a secretary," she said, "and we had quite a strange kind of an interview. He asked me to have a look at a manuscript he wasn't certain about, and what I would advise, and I had a look through it, quickly. I told him I thought it would be all right, and he asked me to explain why, and I did, and he took me on straight away. He didn't ask me anything about my suitability for the job. We do get on together quite well. March is very formal, you know, but I think he likes me." "He does. He couldn't but, knowing you." Charlotte smiled, broadly this time. "He always asks my opinion when he's uncertain. And I am usually right about his things." Matt nodded. "He told me so," he said. "Okay. And now it's time for forty winks. I'll prepare dinner while you're asleep so we'll have a lot of time together this afternoon." He cleared away Charlotte's lunch things and then accompanied her to the bathroom for a wee. She held his hand to be sure, but she was a lot steadier on her legs than she'd been. "I'm getting there," she said and squeezed Matt's hand. Matt squeezed back and grinned. "Right-oh," he said. "Good!" The walk to the bathroom was done quite quickly compared to the one before; Charlotte was getting confident again. Still, when Matt had walked her back to bed she seemed happy to lie down again. "I'll have a nice snooze," she said. "Okay," Matt said. "I'll wake you up around three." He went downstairs and did the chores that needed doing. Then he went into the living-room and had a further look around. Although he often felt that other people's rooms were unfriendly or ugly, without a single item to please the eye, Charlotte's place simply felt good. The furniture was okay, and so were the things on her walls. There was a small watercolour of an early train station that he found especially appealing - it looked as if you could see the dust in the air under the canopy while looking at the engine come into the shade. Then he inspected her music in earnest. He quite enjoyed her taste; it was a lot like his own. He took two CDs from the racks to listen to that night, one an old favourite that he had on vinyl at home and that he hadn't played for years, and the other an album by one of his favourite singers that he'd not heard yet. He sat down in a chair and tried to envisage Charlotte move about in the room. Conjuring up her image wasn't hard, but it took some effort to have her move around the furniture dressed the way she would on office days. Somehow her picture seemed to go back to her sitting on the bed half-naked, after her bath. If only she weren't his charge but his girlfriend... It was three o'clock before he knew. Okay! Time to wake her up. He collected a couple of fresh candles in the kitchen and went upstairs softly, for he loved looking at her sleep, and he took in the picture for a few minutes before waking her. "Hello, sleepy-eyes," he said when Charlotte looked about her. "Did you sleep well?" "Yes, I did," she said. She made a face and yawned. "Sorry - I'm just a bit sleepy still." "Okay. You can sleep a lot more tonight. Want a visit to the bathroom?" Charlotte shook her head. "Later," she said. "But I'd love some Dickens..." Matt read to her for a couple of hours, and then he went to the kitchen to see to dinner. While he was busy he heard footsteps come down the stairs and he went into the hall to see if Charlotte needed any help. She held on tightly to the banisters, but she managed quite well. She wore red striped socks, and slippers, and her robe. "I felt alone up there," she said. "Do you mind if I watch?" "Of course not," Matt said. He grinned at her and pulled a chair out from under the kitchen table. "Be seated, my lady!" Charlotte sat down, sniffing the smell of the cooking and looking at Matt work. He gave her a smile now and then, and he enjoyed her presence. "Do you cook every day?" she asked. Matt shook his head. "No, not every day - I sometimes eat out with a friend, and I just don't feel like it now and then. You know...having a meal on your own just doesn't taste the same." "No," she said. "I know. I try to have a hot meal every day - I usually do. But eating together with someone is much, much nicer." She sat looking at her socks for some time. "It's been so long, you know. I've lived alone ever since I came to London, and in all those years it's been very rare to have someone to share a meal with. At the firm I usually have sandwiches in my office." She sniffed the food again. "It really smells good," she said. "Maybe we can have dinner at the kitchen table?" "All right - if you're warm enough, that is." "I am. I'm really feeling loads better. Shall I try and lay the table?" "No," Matt said. "Let's take things one step at a time - I'm happy with your progress, and I don't want you to fall back, okay? But you can light the candles if you like." He efficiently laid the table for the two of them, placing a few squat candles in the centre of the table. He handed the matches to Charlotte, and she lit the candles with a dreamy look on her face. "Would you like a glass of water with your food, or would you like to try a glass of wine?" Charlotte gave it a moment's thought. "I'd like to try some wine, please," she said. "If it doesn't agree with me, you can finish it, okay?" Matt nodded. "Yes," he said, "sounds like an excellent idea." He went into the living room to collect the wine glasses, and poured the wine for the two of them. Then he sat and waited for the food to be ready. "Are you really warm enough?" he asked. "Or do I get you a plaid to wrap around you?" "I'm fine," she said. "Really! And the food smells good - I do have an appetite!" "Okay. You're really getting back to life!" "I am." She sipped her wine. "Matt, what do you like to do in your spare time?" He considered the question for a moment. "Well," he said, "I love walking, and travelling - I try to go on holiday at least twice a year, and I've visited quite a few places. The sad thing is that other people always seem to come in pairs. When I was younger, I owned a motorcycle, and I had a good friend with whom I travelled the length and breadth of our island. But one day he got hit by a car. The driver just hadn't seen him. He didn't survive and I sold my machine." Charlotte shook her head. "That's awful" she said. "Were you there when it happened?" "I was. But I was riding in front, so I didn't see it happen. I just heard the crash." He sighed. "It was awful. John died, and that driver was devastated. I was rather scared in traffic for a long time. I tried fell-running instead, but it didn't work out for me. And here, in the city... I do enjoy city-trips, and the occasional exotic holiday, and I enjoy reading, and music. I'm not into gardening. And you?" He went to the stove and checked the food. "Almost done," he said. "I'm rather inclined to stay at home," Charlotte said. "Going places alone doesn't feel good, and going out isn't too nice, either. I used to go out with Dwight, but I stopped when he fell ill. I do a lot of reading, and I like music. My father had a large collection of records. I do like armchair travelling. It would be nice to have a friend to travel with." She looked at her glass, and swirled the wine around. Then she nodded, half to herself. "It really would," she said. "Yes. Much better than travelling alone." He consulted his watch. "The food is ready, I think." Matt put the pans on the counter, removed the lids, and served dinner. Charlotte tucked into her food enthusiastically, and Matt sat watching her eat with a smile. She didn't eat a lot, but then she'd told him she wasn't a big eater. But she obviously liked what he'd concocted and paid a lot of attention to it. He had an appetite himself, as he hadn't had any dinner the day before, and the food did taste good. He was not really a good cook, but he could make something very passable when he put his mind to it. He considered his situation and smiled happily. After the main course they had a small portion of Bulgarian yoghurt from the fridge. "Isn't it nice to sit here eating together? I suppose I shouldn't, but I'm really glad I came here to find you in need of attention." Charlotte nodded. "You know," she said, "you said you'd have gone to sleep until Christmas was over, but what would you really have done? Without being flippant?" Matt looked at her pensively for a moment. "Well," he said, "I probably wouldn't really have done anything different than usual. Reading a lot, most of the time, and then being too restless to, and going in for a fit of eating the wrong things. I don't fancy eating out on my own too much, and I sometimes just go for crackers and cheese. I would have gone out to buy some music. I really would have tried to ban Christmas from my mind, though. This way it's wonderful, but home alone...no." He pulled a face. "I might also go to bed far too late at times, and sleep badly. I slept like a baby last night." Charlotte sat and listened. She thought Matt's way of dealing with loneliness wasn't too different from hers. "I do try to keep my time and life in check, and I generally almost succeed," she said. "Rather like the way you cope." Then she finished her sweet and sighed deeply. "I guess I'd better go back to bed now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Matt!" "Thank you for being such good company, Charlotte! I'll come upstairs with you to see you to bed safely." They ascended the stairs slowly, but Matt thought he really saw a lot of progress. He stood beside her as she brushed her teeth, and before she lay down he shook her pillow and he tucked her in. She smiled at him. "I'll see to the washing-up," he said. "I won't be long." He did, and tidied up the kitchen. He took the dry washing off the line and folded the things that didn't need ironing while the coffee was making. When everything was ship-shape again he took the folded clothes and the coffee upstairs. Charlotte was asleep. Her breathing sounded very regular, and, Matt thought, nice. He deposited the tray with the coffee cups onto the side table and put the clothes into the wardrobe, neatly piled up. Then he lit the candles again. He sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Charlotte's hair. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes. "Hi!" she said. "Mmmm - that smells good!" Matt grinned. Charlotte sat up, and he gave her one of the cups. "Would you like a chocolate with your coffee?" he asked. "Yes please," she said, and she looked at Matt as he picked up a small bowl with chocolates - shaped like bells and stars - and presented it to her. She took a star and nibbled it slowly. "Shall I proceed?" Matt said. She nodded, and he picked up the Christmas Carol and continued reading. Charlotte loved it. She lay looking into the flames, and now and then at Matt's face, and she listened to the well-known tale with a heart filled with joy. Mat read until he had reached the end of the Ghost of Christmas Present's visit. Then he closed the book. "I'll have a glass of wine now," he said. "We'll finish tomorrow, okay?" Charlotte smiled. "Please do," she said, "It feels festive, looking at you have one. Maybe I can join you again tomorrow." Matt poured himself a glass and raised it. "To health and friendship," he said. They sat talking for a little while Matt sipped his wine, but he saw that Charlotte was very tired. "I think it's time for you to go sleep, Charlotte," he said. She smiled, tired but happy. "You're right. I think I'd better." She got up, and Matt came along to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth. When she sat down to relieve herself he went outside, waiting to accompany her back to bed. He tucked her in and kissed her forehead; and he sang her a lullaby without being asked. Charlotte put out her arms towards him, and put them around his neck to kiss his cheek. "Goodnight, Matt," she said. "I love having you for a friend!" "Good!" he said. "Sleep tight, Charlotte!" He put the candles on the tray and went out, pausing in the doorway to look back at Charlotte and flash her a smile. He carried the tray downstairs and quickly cleared everything away. He spent the remainder of the evening listening to music, thinking about Charlotte and having a stiff dram. When he closed his eyes he saw her clearly - her eyes, her smile, her breasts and bottom. She was beautiful, and she was sweet. She was happy to have him around. But of course she'd been ill, and she might confuse a feeling of gratitude with feelings for him. Then, there was Jackie - he still was very glad that that relationship was over and done with, closed, finished. Did he dare? It was an overwhelming question, and he didn't reach a clear conclusion. He went to bed at eleven, feeling a little confused. He looked in on Charlotte for a moment, and when he saw her lying there asleep his heart went out to her. He rather thought he ought to try. When he got up the next morning he almost bumped into Charlotte who emerged from the bathroom. "Good morning," she said. "I'm really feeling a lot better! Almost back to normal, in fact. You are an excellent nurse!" "I don't think I did anything much," Matt protested. "We just let nature have her course." "But you cheered me up no end, and that is half the healing process." She smiled. "You do have to read the rest of Dickens to me, whatever else you do!" "I will. I'll go and see to our breakfast. Any preferences?" She nodded. "Did you buy any cereals, by any chance?" "Yes, I did. Cereals, then? Anything besides?" "Tea, please." "That goes without saying. Will you come down, or would you rather have it served upstairs?" "I'll come down. I've lain in bed long enough." "Good. I'll get things done, then." He went downstairs and prepared breakfast. He realised that his presence wouldn't be required any longer when Charlotte was capable of caring for herself. Oh well, that was what the exercise had been all about. He was happy to see her look healthy again. Still... They had breakfast together at the kitchen table. When they'd finished Charlotte went upstairs to shower while Matt cleared away the breakfast things and made the kitchen presentable again. Then he took his turn in showering. When he came downstairs again he was greeted by the smell of coffee. "I thought you might like some," Charlotte said. "Right?" Matt did. They went into the living-room, and Charlotte sat down in the chair he had occupied the two evenings he'd been there. He smiled at her and sat down on the couch. "I do enjoy this so much! Shall I finish the Carol now?" Charlotte nodded and she sat back to watch Matt and listen to the story. She secretly missed the intimacy of her bedroom a little, but then, it was good to be up and about again. When Matt finished reading he went into the kitchen to get them another cup of coffee. They sat together talking. Charlotte really felt up to scratch again, and so they decided that Matt would go home after lunch, to see to things there. "I'll prepare lunch, to finish things," Matt said. "Or we could do so together," Charlotte said. Before they had any chance to do so, the bell rang. Charlotte went to open it, and she returned followed by a woman with a loud voice and, Matt thought, an overbearing manner. She had the unpleasant characteristic of pronouncing all important words in capitals. "CHARLOTTE," she said. "You SHOULD have called me IMMEDIATELY! Imagine you having had a MAN to NURSE you! You could have been taken ADVANTAGE of EASILY! You were always FAR too TRUSTING!" Matt thought he could notice a faint hint of irritation in Charlotte's manner, but she was much too well-behaved to let it show too clearly. It appeared the woman was Jessie, Charlotte's friend. She tried to take over at once, and she immediately got Matt's hackles up. He wasn't going to get told about. One thing was clear, though. With Jessie about the place there was no way for them to communicate in any way he'd like to. Lunch was nothing like they'd hoped it would be. Jessie had not said a word to Matt after she had been introduced. She monopolised the conversation, and Charlotte hardly spoke, nor was she expected to. She'd always liked Jessie, but they'd never been together with others. Now she felt very annoyed by her. She'd hoped to talk some more with Matt... After lunch Matt went upstairs to pack his suitcase. He found a pencil in his suitcase, wrote a few words on the flyleaf of one of the books he'd brought and put it on Charlotte's pillow. Then he went downstairs and took his leave. Charlotte would have loved to kiss him, but Jessie, who wasn't quite the epitome of tact, stayed at her shoulder and so they just shook hands. "Thank you very, very much, Matt," she said. "You were a great help!" "Not at all," he said, and looked at her hard. "I more than loved being there. I'll call you soon, Charlotte!" He nodded curtly at Jessie who talked to Charlotte as if he weren't there. Then he waved to Charlotte, went to his car and drove off. "Call you soon - pah! I've heard them say that TOO often. They NEVER do!" Jessie said. "You'd better FORGET about him." "Jessie, you don't know Matt in the least. Couldn't you just be civil about him? He will call for sure." "He won't, and that's a FACT. Let me get you sorted out. I'll see to your washing first." "I can do that myself again, thank you, and besides, it has already been done." "Nonsense. Don't be silly!" "Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm not a child. I don't speak nonsense and I don't see why I should be treated like a certifiable idiot in my own home." Jessie turned red. "You could be a little grateful, couldn't you?" "Grateful? Why? You ruined our lunch and you ruined my chances to say goodbye the way I'd wanted to the man I want. You're very welcome here, but I don't want a nanny, thank you very much." Jessie stood looking at Charlotte transfixed. She'd never known her to be anything but pliable and the angry woman she saw was nothing like the Charlotte she knew. "But..." she stammered. "Yes," Charlotte said, "I'm really sorry, but I think we ought to be more on a par, don't you know? Matt has done my washing, and restored the lot to my wardrobe, and the few items I have in my wash basket now can wait. I'm dying for a drink, because I feel upset about it. Would you like one, too?" "But...having a man wash your clothes, and drinking in the daytime - even if you feel upset..." Charlotte cut her short. "I love Matt. Does that make it clear? He didn't ask if he could or should, he's nothing if not respectful towards people and he can be passionate -" "You mean you had sex?" "No I don't. But he treats me as if I were a beautiful woman, someone likeable and pleasant, and he was so angry when I told him about an anonymous letter I got. I think he's just the person I want and need." Apparently Jessie got the message. She behaved in a much subdued manner the rest of the afternoon, and they actually had a pleasant time together. They cooked - there was a lot of food left from the shopping Matt had done - and had dinner together. Jessie left at eight, and the air between the women had cleared completely. "I do hope your Matt will call, Charlie," she said when she put on her coat. "I'll tell you when he does. Take care, Jessie!" They embraced and Charlotte found herself finally alone again. She went about the kitchen to take stock of what Matt had done. She found he had done the shopping in such a way that there was quite enough food to suit any wishes she might have had. There was a bottle of whisky that had hardly been touched, and there were all sorts of nice things. She suddenly understood that he must have paid everything, and blushed. She wasn't quite sure if she thought it was what she wanted. He hadn't mentioned having spent all that money on her for a moment, and she'd been too busy with other thoughts to realise. She sighed. Should or shouldn't she do something about it now? She scratched her head pensively. Then she went upstairs and inspected her wardrobe. He'd obviously folded things differently than she would have done; but he'd carefully arranged everything - almost lovingly, she thought. Even her underwear had been given the same treatment. Mmmm... She started a train of thought she didn't dare finish. You never knew; she'd been so positive he would call, but would that lead to anything? And what if she misread the things she thought she'd noticed? She felt suddenly very tired. She locked up, made herself a cup of tea to drink in her bedroom and went upstairs. She sat down in the chair Matt had put her in, and drank her tea - and then she suddenly noticed something on her pillow. She went and picked it up. It was A Child's Christmas in Wales. She opened it. On the flyleaf she found a text in pencil, that read, Dear Charlotte, Thank you very much for the nicest, best Christmas I've ever had! Love, Matt. It made her cheeks go hot. Oh, just suppose he really means it, she thought. Just suppose! She drank her tea and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth; then she went to bed with her book, and read it, enjoying Ardizzone's illustrations and the text, and remembering Matt reading it. When she had finished, she carefully put the book away and she fell asleep with a big smile on her face. Matt went home feeling rather sad and not a little annoyed that that woman should have come to spoil things. But he was damned if he'd let her come between them. He opened his laptop at once and found the restaurant he wanted to go to. To his delight there was still a table for him for New Year's Eve, and he booked it at once, for six thirty. Time to go and get his house in order. The Christmas box still sat on the kitchen table, and he unpacked it and stored the contents in various places in the kitchen and the pantry. Then he went and loaded the washing machine, took the vacuum cleaner around the ground floor, and eventually he sat down and opened his mailbox. There was one new email only. It was from March, who told him he had fired Dillon. He wrote he had been inclined to put the fear of God into the young man but when he'd been verbally abused himself he'd seen no other way to solve the problem than a dismissal. Mat replied briefly and told March that Charlotte was better, and that he had had a very good time celebrating Christmas with her. He loved his house, but it seemed strangely silent and lonely after the two days or so they'd spent together. He found it actually hard to believe it had really been two days only. He realised he was quite tired, and he decided to have dinner at his local and go to bed straight after it. He was in bed by nine, but he found it hard to get to sleep, no matter how tired he was. Charlotte's face seemed to come between his intentions and their execution. He just gave in to it and thought about her - and he suddenly realised it actually was her face he kept seeing, not her body. The realisation took away the one qualm he'd harboured about his feelings for Charlotte; it was obviously alright. He turned on his side, smiling broadly, and was asleep within seconds. Charlotte got a phone call the next afternoon at two. "Hello?" she said. "Hello, Charlotte," Matt said. "Remember we talked about eating out? You promised you'd come with me, and I booked a table for two for the thirty-first. Is that still okay with you?" "You bet," she said. "I'll be there, have no fear!" "That's good. Are you still feeling okay?" "Yes I am. Oh, thank you very much for the book! I read it before I went to sleep." "It's a lovely story," Matt said. "I'm glad you like it. Okay. I'm so happy you'll come. I can't wait to see you again." Charlotte slowly broke into a broad smile. "Well," she said , "if you really mean that, you know where I live...and I'm not going anywhere this afternoon." It remained silent for a moment at the other end of the line. "I'll be over straight away," Matt said. He put down the phone and almost jumped into his car. He drove just a little fast, and was at Charlotte's within a quarter of an hour. When he ran up the steps to the front door Charlotte, who'd been waiting for him, opened it. "I just happened to see you coming," she admitted. They went inside, and Matt hung his coat in the hall. Then he took both her hands in his. "Charlotte," he said, "I don't just want to see you. I've got something I must tell you. I realised that being with you, even when you were ill, was all I could want from life, and that I don't want to go back to the way I used to live. I think you're sweet and beautiful and lovely and I want you. I need you, Charlotte, I..." It was all Charlotte had hoped to hear. She beamed at him and pulled him into her and she pressed her lips on his. She looked into his eyes with a wide smile and opened her mouth to taste his tongue, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Then she closed her eyes, and gave in to the feelings of happiness that washed over her. She rubbed her belly against his body, and she felt the sure sign of his need for her press into her. She waited for a short moment and then she freed her mouth. "Matt," she said, "I need you, too! Please, come and be good to me, again!" Matt kissed her again and stroked her back, her bottom, and her hair. Then he took her hands again, and nodded. "I will, sweetheart," he said. "Come!" Charlotte had put on a pink set of underwear that morning, with cream edges and bows, and a cut that made it sit just a bit loosish, which, she thought, was really becoming. She hoped Matt would agree, but she didn't worry overmuch. She could still remember his physical reaction to the sight of her when he washed her, and when she'd touched his arm with her breast. It would be all right. It was all right. When they got to her bedroom, Matt lost no time in undressing her. When he'd removed all her upper clothes, he heaved a deep sigh of contentment. "Baby," he said hoarsely, "you are beautiful and delectable and just plain ravishing." Charlotte blushed with happiness. Matt hooked his arms around her and made her breasts fall from the cups of her bra. He put his hands on them and she felt her knees go wobbly. Apparently he must have noticed it, for he clasped his strong arms around her and walked her to the bed, where she lay down looking at him. She loved the look in his eyes. It held everything she'd hoped to see in him, the whole gamut from love to need and back again. Matt quickly undressed and knelt between her legs to pull her panties all the way down. She was beautiful, and he just couldn't stop from marvelling at her. He stroked the curve of her belly, and her thighs, and then he knelt on the floor and started to pay homage to her legs. Charlotte lay back and closed her eyes. She was all smiles, and she realised that this, this now was what she'd hoped for from the moment Matt had helped her take off her nightgown that Christmas Eve. She loved his hands on her, and she loved the knowledge that she was beautiful and desirable, and that the man who actually desired her was the very one she'd been hoping for a very long time would notice her. She felt his lips on her inner thighs and a shiver ran down her back. They gradually crept up in the direction of her pussy, and she was dying for him to touch her there. Oh! He'd stopped running his mouth and tongue along her thighs. Instead he peeled her pussy open with his thumbs...and then she let out a muffled moan as she felt his nose rub her clit for a second before he stuck his tongue into her. Oh my, he's tasting me, she thought. I hope he'll like me... Matt had her smell in his nostrils and her taste on his tongue. Life couldn't be any better, he thought. He took one of her labia between his lips and sucked it a little into his mouth. Then he let go of it again and started to lick, nibble and suck her pussy, trying to make her feel good, so good. He didn't miss the tiniest part of her sex, and it wasn't long before he had Charlotte squirming on the bed. She'd extended a hand to feel for his head, and she pressed him into her. "Oh, baby," she moaned, "oh please...yes...please!" Matt loved what he was doing, and he felt extremely happy. When he heard Charlotte's breathing go ragged, he directed his attention to her clit while he pushed two fingers into her. Charlotte felt herself turn to jelly. It seemed as if her clit and her pussy had started on a life of their own, while still being part of her, too...and then she came. Involuntarily, she pressed his face firmly down onto her vulva, while her body seemed to explode in shudders. She lay back with her eyes closed for some time, while she heard the blood throb in her ears, and then, when it subsided, she opened her eyes and looked into Matt's smiling ones. "Okay, baby?" he said. Charlotte nodded. "Mmmm," she was all she could manage. "Good." Matt said. He got up off the floor, and went to his knees on the bed between her splayed legs while he explored her breasts and belly. Her nipples stood taut, proud and beautiful, and he loved to touch them, to roll them and knead them, and to watch Charlotte react to his hands. He bent over her and used his mouth on her again. Charlotte loved it. She looked at Matt and flashed him a smile, and then Matt couldn't contain himself any longer. He took his cock in his left hand and found her pussy. "Oh, yes, come, please!" It was what she'd wanted for so long! Finally, finally here they were together! She was so wet that Matt slid inside as sweetly as she'd hoped. She was covered in sweat, and there was a film of moisture on her breasts and belly, and the perspiration ran almost into her eyes. But she couldn't care a hoot - Matt's arms were holding her, and his cock was inside her. It left nothing to be desired. Matt felt his stomach slide back and forth against her belly, and he loved every second of it. His 25-year-old wish for a soft pair of breasts was finally eradicated by the real thing. He touched Charlotte's lips with a finger for a moment. To his surprise she sucked it into her mouth. The feeling did wonders to his crotch somehow, and when she squeezed his cock with her pussy walls it was too much. He grabbed Charlotte's beautiful buns and slammed into her, rocking the bed as he did so. Oohhh, Charlotte thought, this is wonderful. She bucked against his pelvis and fucked him back on every stroke, hard, sweetly and hungrily. She reached out for his head and pulled him close, and then she sought his tongue. She felt completely feminine, and wanted, and loved, a feeling that for a long time she'd not expected she would ever feel. She clasped her legs round the small of Matt's back and pulled him into her as tightly as she could, while she stroked his hair and moaned into his mouth. It had never been like that for Matt with Jackie. Sex back then had seemed almost clinical compared to this. Charlotte just loved it and it showed. She had abandoned herself to the feelings of his pistoning cock, and his hands that had gone back to roaming over her body, and his stomach against her belly, and she wished he would never stop. So did Matt. Charlotte's belly was soft, and her breasts were warm and sweet, and he loved the way she sucked his tongue into her mouth as she tried to milk him, and the feeling of her arm around his back and her hand in his hair, and, best of all, her eyes looking into his. He broke their kiss for a moment. "Baby," he panted, "your illness was the best thing that could ever happen to me - I'm so happy I came and delivered that box!" "Mmmm," Charlotte said. "It gave me a travelling companion!" She ran her hand through his hair and pulled his face into hers again. "My love!" she whispered, and then she pressed her lips on his. Matt looked into her sweet, brown eyes while he tried to please his lady love in every way he could think of. He stopped kissing her to lick the beads of perspiration from her upper lip, which made her smile, and he loved the tiny crow's feet her smile produced at the corners of her eyes. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said. "I'm so happy you want me, too!" Then he clamped his mouth down on hers, and picked up speed. Charlotte closed her eyes and just let all the emotions and all her happiness wash over her while she kissed him back as if she wanted to swallow him whole. She made her pussy walls squeeze him hard, and he loved it no end. It wasn't long before he felt his orgasm build up, and he knew he wouldn't be able to postpone it much longer. "I'm nearly there, baby," he said. "Okay, sweetie - go for it!" Charlotte hoped she'd come, too - but if she didn't that was no problem. She held him and cherished every moment of their lovemaking, and the only thing that counted was their togetherness. She almost spurred him on with her heels. Matt marvelled at her zest and enjoyed the feeling of her body touching his. "Love you, baby!" he whispered - and then he came like rain. Charlotte was on the pill, and she loved the feeling of Matt's sperm gushing into her. It sent her over the brink along with him, and she clasped her arms around Matt's body and held on tight, all smiles and sweat and sweetness. They lay together for a long time, panting, kissing aqnd revelling in their closeness. Eventually Matt stroked her hair and kissed her from her chin up towards her nose. "Brrr..." she said, grinning. "You're tickling me!" Matt smiled and kissed her lips. "Thank you, baby," he said. "My love, my fellow traveller... my beauty!" Charlotte let her legs drop from his back and she stroked his bottom. "I love being your beauty," she said. "But being your fellow traveller is the best! I told Jessie you would call - she didn't think you would. You're not going again, are you?" Matt vehemently shook his head. "Not unless you tell me to - and even then I don't think I will." "I won't," Charlotte said. She felt between their bodies for his cock. "Mmm," she said. "Let me wake you up!"
DATE OF PUBLISHING
11-DEC-2014
SOURCE LINK
https://www.literotica.com/s/charlotte-7