Again…so it had happened again.

A deep breath expelled from Jacob’s lips as he turned and found himself slap bang against Mary who had been right behind him until then.

“What are you doing?” She asked him accusingly, looking past him into the chamber, analysing the situation.

“Vincent’s not been home again.” He told her as if that explained everything.

“He often stays out, Jacob you know that?”

“Yes, and I know he always goes straight to bed. Even if its for a few short hours. Oh I know sometimes he might sit up and make an entry in his journal, but generally…” Jacob’s voice trailed away as he looked thoughtfully back toward his son’s large bed.

“Generally he sleeps in his own bed.” Mary searched Jacob’s eyes, a little annoyed when he confirmed her suspicious with a slow nod. “And what of it, Jacob? Vincent is a grown man and long overdue for a physical relationship. Really it’s none of your business and I’m surprised that you’re letting it be.”

“So, I’m an over concerned parent…I know its none of my business, Mary…I’m just worried that’s all. Vincent’s physical nature in sexual matters might be long overdue but seeing things from a physician’s viewpoint there are things that I hope he has not overlooked.”

“Children you mean?”

“Yes, children!” Jacob almost snapped. Why was it that no body seemed to worry if Vincent produced someone like him or not? Was he the only one that could foresee the problems resulting from such intimacy?

“I’m certain Vincent has given the thought much consideration, but if you are that concerned perhaps you should ask him.” Mary didn’t think for one moment that he would.

He surprised her, “Yes, perhaps I’ll do that. He and Catherine must be made to know that they must not take such risks.”

“If they are having such a relationship.” Mary reasoned. “Maybe you are jumping the gun. There could be any plausible reason as to why Vincent’s bed has not been slept in these past four nights.”

Jacob rounded on her, “Arh so you’ve noticed too have you? It wasn’t just me then?”

Blushing Mary could only nod, she had walked right into that one but really it was all speculation. There could be any number of reasons as to why Vincent’s bed hadn’t needed straightening these last few days. It wasn’t unlike Vincent to make his own bed after all. Although she had to admit that when coming to change the bed linen she had noticed the absence of Vincent’s long hair on his pillow and mattress she had been dubious but she wasn’t about to relate that to Jacob. He’d had his suspicions riled enough without the addition of that.

“I’ll have to speak to him when he comes in, that’s if he ever comes in. I hardly see my son these days. Where he goes during the day I have no idea. That’s if he comes home at all. Ever since he broke his fingers and I allowed him time off work to recuperate, he seems to have taken advantage of the long rest I insisted that he take.”

“Well it sounds as though you will get your chance sooner than anticipated. Listen?” Mary cocked her head to one side as did Jacob hearing the ever- welcome message on the pipes that Vincent had returned home. Unfortunately he was being accompanied by Catherine.

“Maybe I can speak to the both of them.” Jacob looked toward Mary, half expecting reassurance on that score. She failed him, shaking her head and saying, “I don’t fancy your chances. Not to mention the fact that it could be embarrassing. Supposing your wrong?”

“Supposing I’m right!”

“Yes, but they are grown people Jacob, when they need advice they’ll ask for it. If they are not having such a relationship, imagine the embarrassment you will cause them, not to mention yourself. Imagine how hard it would be for them to approach you with any other matter in the future if you make a hash of this situation.”

“Then what can I do, answer me that? I need to know, need to find out if they are sleeping together. Look at the facts, do they not speak for themselves?” Jacob nodded toward his son’s bed, “It’s un-slept in. How can a man of Vincent’s calibre go without sleep for days on end even if he was cat napping in his chair? Listen to them, even from this distance I can hear their laughter. Does that sound to you like someone deprived of sleep?”

Mary could not answer him. The facts did speak for themselves, but they could still be wrong. If anyone knew anything she did, and Mary well knew how sad Catherine had been only last weekend that Vincent still insisted that such physical intimacies were not for them even after all these years together. Still that was last weekend, and in-between Vincent’s bed had remained un-slept in for half a week. Taking Jacob by the arm, Mary guided him away from Vincent’s chamber lest the couple saw them there on their arrival and only just in time too. Arriving back at Father’s chamber by a hair’s breadth before Vincent and Catherine entered arm in arm.

“Hello Father, Mary.” Catherine made her way down the steps as Vincent bade her enter ahead of him. “Are you well?”

“Yes.” Mary answered for the two of them, well aware that Jacob was near boiling point directly behind her.

“Did you sleep well?” Catherine peered around Mary, directing her question at Father, who retorted as though a red rag had been held before a bull.

“Did you!” He snapped.

Cautiously, Catherine turned concerned eyes to Vincent. They had been warned on their way in that Father had spent half the night wandering the tunnels, but would give no one reason for his doing so.

“Yes.” Vincent stepped forward his intention to place a comforting arm around his father’s shoulders as he went on, “Catherine and I slept very well thank you, Father. However, it would appear that you did not. What troubles you so? I hear that you were up half the night wandering the tunnels. That is so unlike you.”

Father backed away, refusing the comfort Vincent offered, his eyes hostile, “How did you hear? Who told you?”

“Pascal sent word to Catherine’s apartment…”

”And that’s why you’re here? You spend days away unconcerned for my welfare then once you hear that I am in turmoil you come galloping to see what’s wrong! I could have died, would you have cared! I could have been calling out for you, I could have fallen anything, needed you, and where would I have found you…huh…tell me that? Where would I have found you…for a certainty not in your chamber…not in your bed!”

Vincent’s anger rose and fell at the obvious insinuations coming from his parent and in a voice whispered with tempered emotion Vincent replied, “What is it you are trying to say, Father? For a certainty you give the distinct impression that your welfare is not the issue here…rather…” Vincent’s eyes glinted malice as he went on, “What is it you actually want to know?”

“Know? Know? You ask me that…when the truth is right before my very eyes!” Jacob fumed shaking off Mary’s arm as she desperately tried to still him.

“What truth?” Vincent’s tone was flat now, guarded. His eyes mere slits as he waited for his father’s response. Whatever his father believed, he was wrong, and Vincent was furious that his father could even think it of him. Hadn’t they discussed this a thousand times and decided that such things were not for him? But now in front of Catherine - how could Father even attempt to bring it up.

“You’re bed hasn’t been slept in for half a week!” Jacob flared expecting that something in his son’s eyes would give away the truth even if his mouth denied it.

He was disappointed. All he found in those twin blue orbs was fury, dismay, disgust and Jacob looked away, unable to see for himself the distress in his son’s expressive eyes. All those conversations they had shared, all those private talks had been for nothing. Father had brought out into the open a topic that Vincent had never been able to discuss with Catherine, and now she had heard it from his father’s own mouth.

“I can explain that…” Catherine stepped forward, one hand tenderly placed upon Vincent’s arm, understanding as only she could the tension and the embarrassment mounting by Father’s suspicious mind…”It’s not what it seems…”

“I bet its not!” Father sneered “In fact I bet you’ve got just what you’ve always wanted, you little….

“Father!” A roar sounded throughout the chamber even as Vincent positioned himself between his parent and the woman that he loved, “I will not have you attack Catherine like that. Apologise!”

“I will not!”

“Then we have no place here until you do, come Catherine.”

Striding from the chamber, Vincent turned to find his ladylove hesitating unsure as what to do. She wanted to explain to Father, get him to see that it was not the way it looked - that there was a perfectly plausible explanation… However, she couldn’t deny that Father was half right, Vincent had been sleeping in her bed…the thing was, most unfortunately, she had never been in it at the time.

“Catherine?” From the entranceway Vincent called her.

Shrugging and mumbling an apology to Father that fell on deaf ears, Catherine turned and made her way hastily to Vincent’s side. Together they left the chamber and the couple within gazing after them.

“I see you handled that in your usual style.” Mary snapped, “Well done Jacob!”

Scooping up the dirty linen she had been collecting Mary headed for the way out also. She found it impossible to say another word, she was so furious with the patriarch of the tunnels. He had put his foot in it big time as far as she was concerned. If Vincent and Catherine ever forgave him, it would be a miracle.

Alone again, Father surveyed his own chamber, the stripped bed, the neatly folded sheets that Mary would spread upon the bed later and he realised one very important fact. She had known! Mary had known, though she hadn’t said, she too harboured the same suspicions, or else if not, why had she not taken the sheets from Vincent’s bed? Hastily, Father made his way to his son’s quarters, listening intently for any sounds within before he ventured inside.

No, Mary had not stripped Vincent’s bed. Then she too had noticed that it had not been slept in. Somewhat happier that he had an ally if only a silent one, Father had an idea. Well if it was proof she needed to back him then proof she would get. He searched the room, knowing he needed something Vincent would miss.

Spying his latest journal Father picked it up and placed it between the sheets of Vincent’s bed. He smiled smugly to himself, ‘now then Mary, we’ll see whose imagining things. If Vincent is sleeping in his own bed he will discover his journal there. If he can’t find his journal we will know without a shadow of a doubt that he is sleeping elsewhere…and it won’t take a genius to know where.’ Satisfied with his own deviousness, Father returned to his chamber. The next time he saw his son he would know whether it was right to challenge him on the subject of physical intimacies with Catherine or not. Next time he would have the upper hand.
Smug Father poured himself a cup of herbal tea and with a chuckle imagined how Vincent would get out of that one.

Mary met them in the dining room - both appeared glum. Catherine especially looked sad, while traces of anger remained in the appearance of Vincent’s features. His eyes angry, his jaw firm and set. His shoulders rigid against the back of the bench. The way both held their own company, neither touching the other as were their custom. For even in public Vincent and Catherine would at least hold hands. Mary felt decidedly sad that they sat so close yet so far apart. She slid herself onto the bench next to Vincent.

“Try not to let him get to you, Vincent. He’s got this physician’s bee in his bonnet and he wont let it go. He just cares about you, you know that?”

“Physician my foot! He’s a nosy old bastard…”

Eyes wide, mouths agape, both Mary and Catherine stared at Vincent incredulously. Never had they heard Vincent speak such language!

“He worries about us.” Catherine told her love with a whispered sigh, “He assumes that we…”

“I know what he assumes!” Vincent turned to her his eyes flashing, “And he should know that will never happen!”

Catherine cowered, lowering her lids and turning her face from his. Only Mary seemed to notice and placed one hand over Catherine’s as she rested them on the table. A gentle squeeze reminded the younger woman that she had a confidante in Mary except on this occasion she wished it had been Vincent. Tears scorched her eyes, more and more as Vincent holding a tight reign upon the Bond, seemed not to notice her burgeoning emotions.

The dining room became awfully stuffy, the world below awfully claustrophobic and with a wan smile at Mary, Catherine stood and said, “Will you take me home, Vincent?”

Yet Vincent did not seem to hear her so lost was he in his own feelings of the encounter with Father. Catherine sighed heavily turning to Mary, “When he comes back to earth Mary, tell him to come and up to see me will you?” With that she left Vincent brooding and went toward the tunnels that would lead her back to the location beneath her apartment building. It was hard to imagine that just a short hour ago, they had arrived in such high spirits, with such good news to impart. Now none of it seemed important. In fact much of it seemed lost to her now. Sometimes she wondered if it were all worth it. The secret life she was forced to lead, the love that she felt for Vincent so obviously going nowhere. All the contact she had lost with her friends all the opportunities she had missed for promotion in her job…for what? For a dream that might never come true?

Remembering the last few days…well it seemed to Catherine that they too had been a dream…a fantasy of what might be…now snatched from beneath her feet as impossible.
All that planning gone to waste all that hoping amounting to nothing and not for what Father had implied, but for what Vincent had insisted. The absolute conviction in his tone that such things between them would never come to pass. That’s what hurt the most. Catherine had to face the fact that she was indeed wasting away her life, hoping for things that just would never happen. She’d been a fool to ever believe that they might. Yet these last few days…she could remember them so clearly…tears formed and ran unchecked down her cheeks as she brought to mind all that had taken place right here in her apartment…

It had all began when…

‘ Vincent, I have something to ask you. What do the tunnel folk do for Valentine’s Day? I mean has there ever been a Valentine’s Dance below?”

They had been sitting quietly inside his chamber when Catherine, her mind very much on the coming event in two weeks time had turned her attention to the Valentine’s Dance Joe had, tongue in cheek, asked her to only that morning. Of course she had declined. That special day was reserved for the love of her life, but it had got her thinking…if only she could take Vincent to a Valentine’s Day dance.

“Apart from Winterfest, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Naming Celebrations and Weddings, it is very unusual for us to celebrate anything else below. Certainly not Valentine’s Day. That occasion is generally a private affair for the couples involved. Why do you ask?”

“I can remember being unattached and hoping to find my beau at a Valentine’s Dance. Its not always for couples Vincent, such an occasion also brings people together.”

“And…”

“Does there have to be an addition?”

“I feel my Catherine, that you are about to impart one.” Vincent grinned feeling through their bond that Catherine was growing more and more excited by the second about something on her mind.

“Well yes, there is as it happens.” She shot him a look that said ‘Mr. Know it all’ before continuing, “What if we held a secret Valentine’s Dance for the tunnel folk. What do you think?”

“Might be hard to pull off. While each of us maintain the biggest secret just by living here, something being organised like that might not go unnoticed.”

“It would if we organise it above.” Catherine’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“What do you have in mind?”

“A fancy dress Valentine’s Dance. Think of it Vincent!” Catherine’s eyes were bright with joy, “If everyone dressed up, it would be easy not just for you to attend, but for any one person to approach another. Perhaps someone that they have had affection for, for some time, but been too afraid to do anything about it. Behind a mask or a disguise people can be anything that they want to be. Can ask anything that they want to ask. It would be wonderful if we could arrange something like that, and there are so many new families below now, families that would benefit from such a joyous occasion…do you think we could arrange it between us?”

“Between us, as in you and I?”

“Well yes, but we couldn’t hold it at the home chambers. It would have to be held away from there, lest someone discovers what we are doing.”

“The idea is a sound one, Catherine, yet several of the newcomers to our family are already struggling to be understood. They might find themselves out on a limb at such a gathering.”

“The Spanish families you mean?”

“Yes. Many of us are frustrated that we cannot converse with these people. It seems such a shame. Of all the language classes that have been taught below, Spanish has never been one of them. It wouldn’t be fair to expect these people to be denied the chance to mingle with us, just because we have no interpreter available.”

“Mmm, I see your point. But I think I have the answer to that also.” She laughed gaily making Vincent’s eyes crease at the corners as he grinned at her in expectation of what she would next say.

“You told me that you are capable of picking up languages unusually quicker than most people?”

“Yes, usually, but two weeks Catherine. I would have to be at it night and day.”

“Well you certainly have no excuses for time. With your fingers strapped and Father insisting that you rest to mend them, it could be possible.”

“Yes, it could, providing you realise that I will have my nose in a book for the best part of the next two weeks, and then that will leave you to organise the entire event by yourself.”

“Hmm!” Catherine exhaled a deep breath of exasperation that ruffled her fringe. “Still,” she jumped up excitedly, “there is a way!”

“There is?” Vincent, bright eyed and caught up totally with the whole affair waited eagerly for her to continue.

“You can live with me!” Her eyebrows shot up enticingly, suggestively before she quickly explained. “I’ve seen them down at the library, ‘learn Spanish, Italian, French, German, you name it they’ve got it, in eight days. I don’t suppose it’s the full language, but the basics to get one by on vacation to such countries. At least with such knowledge we wouldn’t be completely in the dark, and then everyone can be invited!”

She paused allowing the information to sink in before continuing, “The lessons are made up of audio and video tapes as well as guide books. If you were up at the apartment you could listen to them day and night thus lessening the time it takes to master the language by half. And you could stay at the apartment too, I’m sure I could get used to that pretty quickly again she arched an eyebrow suggestively giggling when Vincent had the grace to blush. “And as I am out in the day you could sleep in my bed and when I get home we could work on the organisation of the event together and during the night while I sleep you could work on the Spanish lessons. What do you say? Do you think we could pull it off?”

Her excitement was such that Vincent didn’t dare refuse her. Being in such close proximity with his Catherine might pose problems, but if they alternated the sleeping arrangements what could possibly happen? Neither would be in a state of undress at any given time around the other. It could work, more importantly it was to the good of the community, so they had to make it work.

“Alright Catherine, we’ll do it. When should we start?”

“Is now too soon. That is, we could hunt for the location to hold the dance and work from there. I can get those recordings from the library this afternoon, and you could stay above from tonight.”

Enthusiastically, Vincent nodded. Now caught up in the excitement of the affair, he was looking forward to it immensely. And surely he could bare four days, four undivided days living up above in Catherine’s apartment, after all she wouldn’t be there all of the time. He was certain he could cope.’

And cope he had, even with Catherine’s personal belongings around him. Even when he used the bathroom and found her drying washing draped over a line across the bath. Even when he found his claws renting his palm as he clenched the fingers of his uninjured hand at the sight of her silky panties and skimpy bra tops hanging there reminding him of the glimpses he had seen of them beneath a sheer silk robe, or the rising images of his imagination of visualising his Catherine wearing such garments. Or the day when he had passed by her bedside cabinet and had seen the entry in her diary left upturned and unopened at yesterday’s page. How he had tried to ignore the words jumping out at him, but how he had looked anyway and seen and read the words of longing thereon a longing toward him and toward a life together, toward an intimate physical life together. Yes he had endured all of those things because he was there not for himself, not for Catherine, but for the good of the tunnel community and because he had promised Catherine that he would help her arrange everything during the time of his stay above.

Well now as he made his way toward his chamber, despite Mary’s message from Catherine to meet her above, Vincent knew that he couldn’t go back there tonight. Not now, not with Father’s suspicious hanging over them. It would be all too embarrassing. Besides, he knew how Catherine felt, knew that for which she yearned and he also knew that those things were impossible for them. So if she held any hopes that this coming event would bring them closer together in that way, then she would be disappointed. Vincent even contemplated not attending rather than have to spell it out for her yet again. Such things for him could never be. And that was simply the way of it, as sad as it made him feel. He could offer Catherine nothing but his unending platonic love and no more.