Isabel's Healing

by Maggie McIntyre

  For someone with no parental support, no siblings or even any wider family connections, Bryony realized breaking up with Aiden made her quite, quite alone. Alone, that was, except for Isabel, whom she had only just met, who was fragile both physically and emotionally, and who remained an enigmatic and powerful mystery. The way Aiden had put it, her whole change of direction seemed fraught with danger, and maybe she had behaved really stupidly.

  She sat on a bench near the London Eye, and cried miserably for at least ten minutes. In the end, an elderly man walking his dog stopped by her and solemnly passed her a clean cotton handkerchief, the sort only his age-group kept in their pocket these days.

  “Don’t cry over him, dear,” he said, very courteously. ”He’s probably not worth it.”

  Bryony managed a teary smile and took the handkerchief with a nod of thanks. She wondered if he, or anyone, could sympathize with her actual reasons for weeping. The old man and the dog walked away, while she blew her nose and tried to dry her tears.

  The meeting with Aiden had been as painful as she had imagined it would be, but it was done now, and she could move on. Her mind turned back to Isabel, and she pulled out her phone. She could send her a text to say what had happened. It gave her just enough hope to stop crying. She could just imagine what Isabel would say If she could see her. She’d think she was a complete wimp.

  “Stop crying, girl. I can’t do with sniveling.”

  But sometimes, sniveling was exactly the right thing to do.

  Chapter 20

  Isabel’s response to Bryony’s short text message was not as harsh as she imagined. She read between the two lines, and immediately called her.

  “Hello, sweetie, don’t cry. Don’t cry Bryony girl, it will all be all right.”

  “I...I just didn’t want to upset him, or myself. But it wasn’t so good. I had to tell him straight.”

  “Yes, you did. Sometimes men need to know. You’re not on this planet to make them always feel good, especially when they are so insensitive they never notice how you feel. We do have to hurt the people we love sometimes. It’s inevitable. But it saves time if we’re honest.”

  “Did you ever have to hurt people, tell them you didn’t love them enough to carry on?”

  “Oh, I am a master of it. Jane will tell you I’m a heartbreaker. She as good as told me I’m a cold bitch. But I’m learning not to take love for granted. Look here; do you want to come home tonight? I’ll pay for you to change your train ticket if you need to?”

  Bryony liked the way Isabel called their little cottage ‘home’, but turned down the offer.

  “No, I will stay on tonight in your lovely flat, and work on my dissertation. I’m bringing the laundry back to Wales with me to do. I’ll also water all your pots outside if you like. They look very thirsty. It’s super-hot down here in London.”

  “Do you like the flat? So much of the stuff there belongs to Carrie, and I haven’t had the heart to sort anything else since she died.”

  “I think it’s a beautiful flat.” Bryony almost wanted to offer to help Isabel sort out Carrie’s many possessions, even the many clothes she had seen, which she could tell belonged to her, as they were for a taller woman than Isabel, but she didn’t dare. She might only be in Isabel’s life for the summer. She had no rights over her beyond that, and didn’t want to jinx their current relationship.

  “Where are you now?”

  “Walking across Westminster Bridge. I’ve done a lot of walking. What have you and Jane done today, anything nice?”

  “We have come to lunch on the coast at Barmouth. She’s a restless soul and doesn’t like just sitting in the cottage. She’s now finishing a large portion of haddock and chips, while I’m outside, sitting on a bench in the sunshine.”

  “And you? I hope you had some fish and chips. The fattening up of Isabel project continues, you know, as soon as I return.”

  Isabel laughed. “Don’t worry. All of our projects can resume when you return. Don’t forget we have another trip to the hospital on Monday.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good, and you’ve stopped crying now?”

  “Yes, Isabel. How did you know I was?”

  “Your text had tear-stains on it. Figuratively speaking. So, see you Sunday afternoon?”

  “Yes,”

  Bye for now, darling.”

  “Bye, Isabel.”

  Bryony smiled as she put away her phone. Isabel was a woman in a thousand, and for now at least, she belonged to her. She had called her ‘Darling.’ That was twice now.

  On the way home to Isabel’s flat Bryony bought a bag of fresh peaches, and when she let herself back in through the door, she immediately went outside into the beautiful little garden and turned on the water pump. The sound of the trickling fountain immediately refreshed her battered heart, and she sat on the bench to enjoy one or two peaches which she’d washed quickly under the kitchen tap.

  The sunlight shone through the leaves of the old Plum tree by the back wall, and the garden was full of the scent of nicotiana and phlox flowers. It was a real oasis in the city and Bryony breathed in its perfumes and the other assaults on her senses. She watered all the pots, and then the borders, and almost sensed how grateful the flowers were.

  But work drew her back inside, and she curled up on Isabel’s sofa with her laptop on her knee. She began to plot out her dissertation with all the focus of a real scientist. It didn’t matter that she was crazy about the subject of her study; she could still do a professional job.

  ***

  At five o clock the following afternoon. Bryony was driving up their hill in Wales, having retrieved the Berlingo from an unofficial long-stay car-park near the station in Machynlleth. As she drove through the cottage gateway, she saw Jane’s Rav4 had disappeared, so she and Isabel would be alone once more. She felt undisguised happiness, but was worried that Isabel had been alone for a while and might need help.

  She found her sitting on the sofa, with her feet up, and a copy of the Economist in her hand.

  “Hi, I heard the car.”

  She went forward and took Isabel’s outstretched hand.

  “Are you very tired from all the train travel?”

  “Yes, a little. But it’s so good to see you. How long ago did Jane leave?”

  “After lunch. It’s been wonderful, just being alone for a few hours.”

  “I’m sorry to spoil that.”

  “Do not be foolish. It’s different with you. I have been waiting for you to come back to me.”

  “I brought you your post. I’ll fetch you a letter opener, and you can go through it all while I fix us some tea if you like.”

  Isabel took the thick pile of letters and placed them beside herself, but then grasped Bryony’s hand and pulled her down until she was forced to kneel on the floor beside her. She put her arms round Isabel’s shoulders, and leaned in for the offered embrace. Isabel took her face in one hand and cupped her cheek, then kissed her passionately on the mouth.

  “You have been much missed,” Isabel said quietly. “I am so happy to have you back here in one piece. Would you like to shower away all the dust and dirt from the journey, and then let’s just go to bed? I don’t really feel hungry for anything else. Besides, I’ve eaten like a pig all weekend. I could do with working some of it off.”

  Bryony’s eyes widened, and she nodded. It sounded a wonderful idea.

  “I’ll shower now. I’ll be quick.” She began to pull off her shirt as she went into the bathroom, and as she was under the shower, she could hear the tap of Isabel’s crutches moving into the bedroom. By the time she emerged, wrapped in a bath-sheet, Isabel was laying back on the pillows, her top half already naked and her slacks unbuttoned.

  She looked so beautiful, Bryony’s breath caught in her throat, and she almost jumped up onto the bed next to her. Isabel chuckled and lifted her breasts, deliberately teasing Bryony with the hardness of her pink nipples.

  Bryony met the challen
ge by gently kissing each one in turn, and then she ran her fingers down between them as far as Isabel’s waist.

  “Here, let me help,” she whispered, and moving down, efficiently removed Isabel’s trousers. “This could be the last day we have to worry about this pot,” she said, as she had to negotiate the trousers round the plaster cast still on her right leg.

  “Can you lift your butt? Good, thanks,” and she had stripped off Isabel’s underwear as well. The panties were flung across the room.

  “We can call this a goodbye party to the plaster casts,” Isabel murmured, “or a hello party after your terribly long absence.”

  “Was it too long?”

  “Totally. You have three days care and attention to make up for now.”

  “So what would you like me to do for you?”

  “Take your towel off for starters.”

  Bryony complied. Her hair was still a little damp where the shower had caught it, but her flesh was warm and rosy pink, and her eyes were almost glazed with arousal.

  “Now lie here, next to me, and just let me love you.”

  “I can...just about...manage that,” and Bryony melted under Isabel’s kisses.

  Much later, after the summer sun had finally set behind them over the hill, and she had slept in Isabel’s arms for a good hour, recovering from yet another scarily powerful orgasm, she enjoyed the resulting cuddle, with Isabel’s arms tightly round her, possessively pinning her down in the bed.

  “Why is it so easy with you?” murmured the older woman. “You’re so accommodating to what I need, such an unselfish lover.”

  “I don’t really know how to do it differently. You give me everything I need as well, so I just love you back. I adore you. You are so beautiful, and scary and funny. I want this to never end.”

  “Well, turn over, and open your legs again, and it may not.”

  “Not finished yet, Isabel?”

  Isabel growled. “Hardly started.”

  She put her hand down between Bryony’s rounded buttocks and run her finger all down her slit from front to back. It was still so wet, her hand was almost slipping and she felt Bryony bucking under her.

  “Tonight I am going to show you what the big girls do,” she said and slid down the bed.

  “Up on your hands and knees!”

  Bryony complied and Isabel wriggled down underneath her, then she pulled her down over her mouth so that Bryony’s whole sexual area was totally at her disposal. Bryony tried to take the weight on her knees, as Isabel sucked and almost ate her out, but all she remembered afterwards was hearing herself moan, then giggle, as some vicious tickling was involved, then start to scream.

  Their sex games grew rougher as Isabel herself began to come and Bryony writhed and tried to twist herself away from the agony and the ecstasy of Isabel’s wicked tongue. Somehow they were flipped over, so that Isabel was on top again, and she made the most of it. Bryony started to fuck her, with the heel of her hand on her clit, and two, maybe three fingers deep inside her. They were as deeply attached as they could be, and when Isabel exploded into a climax, Bryony thought she might die with excitement. Wow, if this was how gay women made love, she sorely regretted leaving it so long before she came out.

  After Isabel recovered, her hand itched and she gave in to the urge to spank by walloping Bryony on her deliciously rounded ass, as she had the other evening.

  “Ow! You sadist! You really like doing that, don’t you?”

  Isabel smiled. “Of course. I have to keep you under control. And you like it too, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”

  Bryony was shy, and buried her head in the pillow. She nodded her head up and down.

  “I’m ashamed to say I do. It’s one of my fantasies, being spanked by you. It turns me on dreadfully.”

  “Then we’re both going to be happy. Don’t be ashamed. Sex is meant to be fun. Fantasies are all part of it, and you know I’ll never hurt you, well not enough to make you cry seriously!”

  “Tell me one of your fantasies then, with me.”

  Isabel nestled Bryony’s head against her shoulder, and fondled her hair.

  “Well, it might involve a little uniform of some sort, just a bit too tight, with no underwear, and a little bit of light discipline. You might need tying up, and blindfolding, and then you would have to convince me to release you, but you could only use your mouth.”

  “I can see you have given this some thought.”

  “Not really, darling. I have some way to go before it is properly polished up. You can contribute your own ideas if you like...”

  “Isabel, Bel, I think I’m in love with you. I would do anything for you.”

  “Good, that’s how we sadists like it.”

  “Is there anything you need before we go to sleep?”

  Isabel sighed. “Yes, I need a pee. Help me to the bathroom, will you, darling?”

  Bryony laughed and heaved herself out of bed. She held out her hand and pulled Isabel to her one good foot. Maybe this would be the last time she’d need to do it, but she sincerely hoped it wouldn’t be the last time Isabel would let her share her bed. They fitted together like a pair of spoons.

  Chapter 21

  Sleeping with Isabel was glorious, but one of its best attributes was how it allowed Bryony to lie and watch her face in sleep against the crisp cotton pillowcase with its faint scent of lavender. Isabel had beautiful bone structure and luxuriant eyelashes, almost like a small child’s, even though she was over forty. Her hair waved round her head and flicked up in little curls in front of her ears, and she slept very tidily, hardly breathing and certainly not snoring.

  Bryony observed her for a full five minutes without moving on Monday morning, and just enjoyed the view, until she felt Isabel’s hand grip her wrist, and a voice growled, “Whadyalookingat?”

  “How do you know I am looking? Your eyes are shut.”

  “Magic powers and I can feel your breath.”

  “Oh, well. You are right. I am just enjoying gazing upon your beautiful face, oh, my Queen. But now I am going to get up and start breakfast, which I insist you eat this time. We need to be away within the hour.”

  “Bossy boots.”

  The eyes on the pillow remained closed, but Isabel released her hand. Bryony rewarded her with a little kiss on her nose, and slipped out of the bed. She went through to her room and pulled on a dress, a sleeveless linen shift which was long enough to protect her thighs from the hot plastic of the car seats. It was going to be another scorcher, and they once again had a four hour round-trip ahead of them, especially if the traffic was bad.

  She looked at the calendar hanging in the kitchen. Today was a red-letter day in Isabel’s recovery, and she just hoped and prayed all would go well and the final plaster cast could come off with no complications.

  She made tea for them both, and then helped Isabel dress. There was a mark, definitely like a hickey on her collarbone, for which she realized she was responsible, so she encouraged her into a high-necked tunic, over the balloon pants again. Isabel was bouncing with energy and excitement.

  “Just think, in a few weeks I’ll be able to drive. I need to get my nerve back, after the accident, and you can help me. We can go up into the hills, on those quiet back lanes.”

  For now though, she willingly let Bryony take the wheel as always, and they made it to Chester in record time, especially now that Bryony knew the route so well, including a secret detour which cut off five miles round Oswestry.

  This morning Claire had arranged to meet them briefly at the hospital, and was very pleased to see Isabel’s happy face, rounded cheeks and bright eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d say she was a woman in love. Her sister-in-law and the young medical student did not speak much to each other, but they seemed still to be in tune, and Bryony was as efficient and helpful as always. While they waited for Isabel’s name to be called, Claire explained the reason for her wanting to meet them at the hospital.

  “I’m sorry I have
to go out to lunch today so I won’t be able to see you later, but I needed to float an idea with you. You’re now into your third week in Wales, and I’m so happy that your recovery is well on track. But we need to plan ahead.

  “Ted and I want you to know that we think you should come and stay with us at least for the months of September and October, maybe up to Christmas. Bryony will be gone back in college by then, of course, and we feel it would be better for you still to have some support. We don’t think you can manage in London alone just yet.”

  Bryony and Isabel both stared at her in silence. Was it really only five or six weeks away, the end of their partnership? In Isabel’s mind, the summer was stretching ahead into some endless misty shimmer of happy sex and book writing. She had not remembered it could be counted in just a few more weeks. Bryony, who well knew how insecure her role was in Isabel’s life, was simply plunged into a premature sense of loss. Claire somehow had taken half the joy out of the day.

  Isabel said, “Thanks Claire, but let’s not worry about the autumn just yet. I’m living from day to day at the moment. There! I think they’ve called my name. Let’s go, Bryony. Will you come in with me, please?”

  “But you will think about it, won’t you?” Claire seemed anxious to tie up her life as firmly as possible, which Isabel automatically rebelled against.

  “Of course, I’ll think about it. It’s a kind offer. Bye for now.”

  Bryony passed over the crutches and followed Isabel through the inner clinic door to see her doctors. She nodded goodbye to Claire as she went, but couldn’t bring herself to smile at the bearer of such bad news. She realized that from this day on, she and Isabel had somehow to define their relationship and work out what, if anything it meant.

  Maybe it was simply part of the summer project. Maybe she and Isabel would part company and never see each other again? If that was to be the case, then she vowed not to waste a single second of their time together.