Secret Garden From an idea by Kindra King - USA Wouldn't it be wonderful if Vincent could see the colours of flowers, Kindra King asked when she emailed me with another story idea. She went on to say, 'Mushrooms grow in damp and dark conditions, just imagine if they could be produced in all the colours of the rainbow'. I explored this idea for some time. Checking Internet sites on horticulture I finally stumbled across something that I thought would be brilliant in bringing this story together, to the benefit of Catherine as well as to Vincent and everyone else living below in the tunnels. I hope you will enjoy this story and my sincere thanks go to Kindra King for setting me along this path. I learnt a great deal from the research I put in and enjoyed myself thoroughly. Part One It was never a dull moment living beneath the streets of Manhattan Island that was for sure. Survival was the name of the game and making do with whatever was available in a honest as possible way was also one of the many laws that the inhabitants of the tunnel world had to follow. Protection was a necessity too, but everyone that lived beneath the tunnels around the area of Central Park felt considerably more secure having Vincent Wells living with them, then perhaps those people that made their home beneath the streets around Brooklyn and Queens. Vincent Wells was a legend in his own right, a gentle man beast that helped a good many people, but would be prepared to kill to protect those that loved him. And all that begin to read this story will appreciate the sort of person Vincent was and in our hearts continues to be. There are a good many stories about this noblest of men and there will, I hope, be a good many more in years to come, because Vincent’s story was made to live on. Vincent had a dream and through us that dream continues to thrive, and through the other inhabitants of the world below the city streets of New York that came to know Vincent or to know of Vincent, his story will live on. But there are many other people whose lives Vincent touched that are worthy of mention and none more characteristic as the young fellow known simply as Mouse. It was thanks to Vincent that Mouse came to live in that magical world beneath the city streets, a world that holds our hearts. Vincent discovered Mouse foraging Above and befriended the youth with his patience and love, until Mouse trusted Vincent enough to go with him into a life in the tunnels, to find a family that came to love this dearest of young men, and a Father that came to tolerate him! For Mouse was an inventor, a dreamer, but then aren’t we all? And some of Mouse’s inventions were good ideas and actually worked to an extent that they benefited the people that made their home in Vincent’s world, while some of his inventions left a lot to be desired, and some a lot of worry upon dear Father’s shoulders. Like the time Mouse brought a Grand Piano down into the tunnels piece by piece that he had ‘just found’ Above. After all there were two of them, who’d miss one? Father almost had a cardiac when he discovered Mouse had ‘found’ this piano beneath the bandstand in Central Park! Mouse had been reprimanded many times about his foraging expeditions Above. Father had tried to instil a good conscience into the youth, that stealing was wrong. But Mouse seldom saw it that way. If something was left lying around and he took it then it wasn’t stealing it was taking. To Mouse there lay the difference and there was no wrong in taking stuff that others had just left ‘lying around’. In time Father’s patience grew thin, and Mouse was subjected to ‘The Silence’ a punishment Below, that prevented anyone from speaking to the offender for a designated period of time. Even so, Mouse was Mouse, and Mouse was an inventor, and nothing was going to stop Mouse from inventing something once he had set his mind to it. However Mouse did begin to realise that to get Father’s favour toward his inventions, it was better if there was a valid reason for the invention and Mouse’s latest invention really needed such a reason. Mouse knew that his new idea would benefit those Below, but he also knew off by heart Father’s view on the matter. In his mind he could hear Father say; “Now Mouse you simply cannot take what doesn’t belong to you, no matter how wonderful your idea may seem to be.” Or; “Now Mouse, you know that our helpers Above provide everything that we need to get by down here, we do not need frivolous things, and there is no valid reason why we should need (whatever it may be) down here. We will simply get by without it, just like we always have done.” Mouse meant well, his heart was in the right place, even if at times his vision was not, but Mouse’s latest idea was a ‘good one’ and it would benefit so many. But in Father’s book it wasn’t a necessity and they could get by without it. So Mouse needed a reason, a very good and valid reason, and then he was certain that Father would approve. And so begins our story; *** *** *** “Father have you seen Mouse?” Vincent came down the steps of his father’s chamber with lightness of step and that smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, that told he had just witnessed something very cute and something very interesting indeed. Father looked up from his reading, and stared at Vincent as if he might see right through him, right through the tons of rock and straight into the chamber where that young culprit lived. “No, is this just a general question, or do you know something that I don’t?” Vincent’s lips twitched, Mouse was his friend, they ‘hung out’ together, and he wasn’t about to ‘tell on’ Mouse, as much as he loved his father. “No nothing really, I just wondered if you’d seen him.” Vincent picked up the book his father had been reading, “Macbeth. I thought you read this last week Father?” “I did, and don’t change the subject.” Father prodded Vincent’s chest “You know something. Give.” “Know something? About Macbeth?” “I’ll give you Macbeth!” Father retorted. “That won’t be necessary Father I have my own copy, you know that.” Vincent spoke innocently. Father glared at his son. He might have known he’d get nothing out of him. When it came to Vincent and Mouse, it was like trying to prise brick away from mortar. They were as thick as thieves especially in this frame of mind. Father continued to glare at his son, whose lips, he would swear, were pursed to prevent a smile or a chuckle breaking loose. “Then if you won’t tell me, I suppose I shall have to resort to other methods at my disposal. Does Jamie know anything?” “About what?” Vincent looked up his face completely expressionless. Father’s glare intensified. “If I find out you are withholding information about that little numb-skull I’ll...” “Yes Father, you’ll what?” Father felt flustered and backed down. They had come a long way from the time he could black mail Vincent into telling on his friend. A long way indeed. In fact many were the time Father would never have believed that Vincent would ever have the life he led now. Thanks to Catherine. Once upon a time a well-aimed bribe would have been all that was needed to get Vincent to negotiate his loyalties towards either party, and Father would have known everything. But since Catherine had come into his life, his son had become very devious and unrelenting, almost cunning. Yes very definitely the mind of a lawyer was rubbing off on him these days! Vincent was very much a changed man since he had known Catherine, not that Father really minded. Except for times such as these. "You're really loving this aren’t you?" Father asked him now. Vincent raised his blue eyes to his parent, relenting just a little. After all none of it was actually about Mouse. He’d heard something that was all and was using it to his advantage. That would do nicely to wipe the gloating look off Father’s face since he had won three rounds of chess against him on the trot. Vincent refused to answer that question, “How about a game of chess Father?” he asked innocently. Father’s hand shot to his brow, ‘Of Course!’ He smiled, now he understood. This was just a game to Vincent, well he’d show him who was the master of games around here! “Of course. Come take your seat, you have three games to make level you know?” Vincent’s teeth glinted just a little in the glow from the candlelight, but he refrained from answering. Father chuckled with a hand against his mouth to hide the sound, but Vincent noticed his eyes dancing nonetheless. ‘I’ll show you’ he thought to himself, setting the pieces onto the board. A battle of wits followed that lasted almost two hours, neither were giving in to this one. Both wanted blood. Finally Vincent made the winning move and Father backed down graciously, “That was a good game my boy.” He made to stand, “Tea?” “Yes thank you Father.” Vincent leaned back in his chair, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. He had enjoyed the battle immensely, but concentration had been thirsty work. Tea would be marvellous. “Will you be seeing Catherine tonight?” Father asked as he poured hot water from a jug into a kettle to place upon the stove. “No not tonight.” Father detected his son’s sorrow. He raised a questioning brow. “Joe has given her so much to do. She will be working late into the evening.” “At home?” “Yes.” Father looked at his son shrewdly. It had been three and a half years since his son had met Catherine. In the earlier days he had disapproved of the relationship, but it had stood the test of time, and Father well knew that now neither of them could live without the other, but their different lifestyles was becoming a problem. His trained doctor’s eye told him that there had to be a solution or one or both of these two would become ill. But Vincent would not allow Catherine to give up her work, and although he had relented to Catherine coming to live in their world he knew that the temporary time she had tried that it had not worked out. Simply working by candlelight on the type of files Catherine brought home resulted in such eyestrain that she couldn’t do her job properly in the day. Reluctantly they had agreed that Catherine had to live Above for as long as she needed to work. And with Vincent insisting that her life should not alter or she should not wear glasses just because of the way he was, well that was the end of the matter. They would go on as they were. Vincent sipped the tea that Father passed to him, in silence. It was obvious to Father that by ‘that look’ his son was dwelling on Catherine. That made Father feel immensely sad and he wished he could say something that might help. Catherine’s love for his son was a miracle and he knew that they had embarked upon a deeper relationship not so long ago, though he had no way of knowing just how deep, because neither of them had told him of it. But actions spoke louder than words and the way they were around one another now told him many things. They touched one another more, and he had seen them kissing. And not your run of the mill peck on the cheek either. What he had witnessed had been, well in layman’s terms, a real snog! At the time the sight of this had been an absolute world shaker, and Father had found his eyes rooted on them and unable to turn away. Afterwards though he was filled with gratitude that Catherine, dear sweet Catherine had given this to his son, for from that day Vincent had literally blossomed before his very eyes. He seemed to walk taller when he wasn’t floating on cloud nine that was. He showed more confidence. He seemed older, wiser if that were possible, and Father recognised him on a new level. No longer were they merely father and son, now he sensed that they were one. Funny how a real kiss can elevate a person like that. Continuing to watch his son Father wondered not for the first time where the relationship with Catherine would end. Or begin. For so long it seemed they had reached stalemate, but this latest turn of events had to signify changes were in the making. It just grieved Father that neither of them seemed to know the way forward. Both pussyfooted around each other afraid of making moves it would seem. “Perhaps you should pop up and visit her later.” Father suggested speaking his thoughts out loud. Vincent looked up. His expression was unreadable, and he shook his head wordlessly. “I just thought…” Father paused, what did he think? That to see Catherine would make the problem go away? Perhaps to see her would only intensify it. “Vincent would you like to talk?” “About Catherine?” “Yes. Or is there anything bothering you?” A deep sigh escaped Vincent, “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Father was compelled to say ‘it’s been a long slog hasn’t it Vincent, and still no result,’ but he didn’t know what Vincent would make of that. But it was true. Three and a half years of a relationship that had deepened to the extent that these two were so very close and in love that a blind man could see it, but... But what? What would come now? “Are you depressed Vincent?” For a moment Vincent’s face crumpled and Father was sure that his son would cry. It was something he hadn’t seen in a very long time, and it grieved him dreadfully. “Vincent please tell me.” It was unlike Father to pry, but this was his son and he loved him so very much. Vincent drew in a deep ragged breath letting it out again with the words “There’s nothing to tell.” Father was patient sitting with his hands steepled beneath his chin, he waited and watched his son’s face for any expression that might give him a clue. “I love Catherine.” Father was surprised by that omission. This was something he knew, but Vincent had never said it with such tenderness before, or such, such desperation. “I know you do Vincent.” Father replied gently. His son inclined his head so that his gorgeous mane of hair shadowed his eyes. Vincent was silent again, as if the omission had already revealed more than he was prepared to give away. “What is it Vincent? Are you afraid to want a life with her?” Vincent looked up then, his incredulous eyes meeting his father’s. “You always led me to believe that such a life envisaged was not for me?” It was a statement but a question hung there. Father nodded, “Once perhaps. But Catherine has proven over and over again how much she loves you, and when she came to live down among us I had hoped…” he paused watching his son’s face for a sign. If Vincent appeared agitated he would stop and change direction. But Vincent’s blue eyes bore into his own as if he was drawing life-sustaining nourishment from his father’s words. “Well I had hoped that it might have worked out between you too, that together you would find your happy life.” Vincent’s eyes grew wider as if hearing his father say such a thing was the last thing he had ever expected to hear him say, and probably it was, and it was also words that he had hoped for within his own heart. “But Catherine couldn’t see to read the documents in candle light Father.” “I know and I wish there was something I could do to help Vincent, I really do.” Vincent sighed, “No doubt it will sort itself out Father, don’t worry about me.” But Father did worry about his son, and no doubt the problem would resolve itself, but how long would that take? How many more years would Vincent and Catherine be forced to live their lives the way they had for the past three and a half years? Surely there was something, some way to lessen the time? If only Father could think of what. *** *** *** “Must have a reason. Must have a reason.” Mouse trotted happily to the kitchen, his mind totally absorbed in his latest invention. “Gizmo great, will work. A little here a little there, run some wires, make switches. Bingo have light.” Mouse muttered to himself as he sat down at a table to munch on the food William had set before him. “What you chattering on about now Mouse? Lord you are getting just like that racoon. Chitter chatter, chitter chatter, mumbling to yourself all the time. It’s the first sign of madness you know that?” Mouse looked up briefly. He had hardly heard a thing William had said, but the word racoon penetrated well enough. What had Arthur done now? Mouse stared blankly at William, who shrugged and went back to his pots and pans bubbling upon the stove. Mouse was obviously in an invention mode it was the only thing that sent him do la la. Food was an unfortunate necessity and a complete waste of time, and so as soon as Mouse had crammed his dinner into his mouth and had swallowed fairly successfully without choking, he was darting out of the kitchen again. William watched him go, “Like the speed of light.” He chuckled to himself. “Wonder what that boy has up his sleeve this time.” Unwittingly he had already answered his question. Mouse ran through the tunnels, he had to find a reason. Like his namesake he darted into chambers along the way, peering inside, much to the amusement of every resident, mumbled something, looked around and darted out. The only words anyone seemed able to decipher were “Must have a reason.” Many smiling faces followed him on his way, and eventually as was the way of things Mouse found himself outside of Father’s chamber. He hesitated voices were coming from within. Low and quiet. Mouse heard the soft gravely voice of his friend Vincent, and the beautiful name of his friend Catherine mentioned, but not the reason for their discussion. Pity really, that would have been his answer, and cut months off his plans. Mouse thought about going in, but decided against it. Eavesdropping was another no no Below. If he stayed he could be accused of that, and he knew that he should not interrupt unless he had a valid reason, and though he thought he did, he knew well enough that at this stage the longer the idea was kept from Father the better. So he spun on his heel, muttering, “Need a reason, need a reason.” Making everyone that heard him go by laugh at his antics. Somewhere in his mind Mouse made room for the fact that he hadn’t seen Jamie all day. That was unusual. Preoccupied he might be, but he would have noticed Jamie. In fact even if he hadn’t she would have made darn sure that he had noticed her. Once the thought had arisen, Mouse shelved his earlier problem and set upon that one, asking the first person that he came to, “Where’s Jamie?” It was Mary. “Didn’t you know? Jamie has gone with a group of children and a helper on a trip above. Actually they should be back soon, they’ve been gone all day. Is there something I can help you with child, or do you want to wait until Jamie returns?” “No.” Mouse replied making to walk away. Mary caught his arm, “No what Mouse?” Mouse misunderstood. “No please. No thank you.” He made Mary laugh out loud. She released his arm and he shot off oblivious to her humour. He wasn’t really bothered where Jamie was or when she would be home, he had just wondered where she was that’s all. Now he knew his mind returned to the other problem at hand, and he wandered off exploring every nook and cranny intent on finding a reason before the night was out. *** *** *** When the group of children led by Jamie finally made their weary way home, one of the party ‘just had to’ go and see Mouse. There was simply something that she just had to tell him. The moment Jamie had delivered them all to the kitchen, Jamie dismissed herself from her charges, and taking a plate of food and some milk she disappeared in the direction of her chamber to spend a quiet evening. Lorna on the other hand was full of beans, and as soon as she could she left the excited chattering of the other children behind and made off in the direction of Mouse’s chamber. Disappointment befell her as she arrived and found that Mouse was out, but she stayed anyway. The long walk home and the added walk down to Mouse’s hidey-hole had about tired her out. Arthur entertained her with his relentless scampering and endless chattering, and Lorna spoke to him for a time, before her attention was caught to the ever-present Aladdin’s cave of treasure as was Mouse’s domain. Gadgets and gizmos lay everywhere, many of which seemed to be half done, and between them all lay ‘How To’ books with their pages sprawled open at the page showing the diagram on how to make the item it lay beside. It must have been at least an hour before Lorna’s ears detected the sound of Mouse’s return, and she would have hidden herself and shouted Boo, if she did not know from past experiences that such actions would cause Mouse to disappear and not be seen for days. So she waited where he would see her the moment he stepped into his chamber ready with a big smile upon her face. Even so he didn’t see her at first because his mind was still screwed up on needing a reason, and frustrated that he hadn’t been able to find one, and it wasn’t until Lorna spoke his name that he visibly jumped and acknowledged her presence. “Lorna!” “Hello Mouse. I was waiting for you.” “I’m here now.” Mouse sounded irritable. “What’s wrong Mouse? Has Father told you off again?” “No not seen Father.” “Well I’ve got something to tell you, can you guess what it is?” Mouse looked at her questioningly. He hadn’t a clue. “I’ve been Above today Mouse.” Lorna replied proudly. “With Jamie?” “Yes Jamie came. But Mouse you should have been there, you would have loved it.” Mouse was mildly interested. Right now nothing was more important than his reason. “Mouse?” Lorna queried, “Can we make Vincent a garden?” That got his attention. “A garden? For Vincent?” “Yes.” “No impossible. Flowers need sunlight, rain, warmth. Don’t have that down here.” “No they don’t Mouse.” Lorna looked at him her excitement growing while bursting with the things she knew. “Do so.” “No, can use Hydro…Hydro…pot…a knacks.” “What’s that?” Mouse had never heard anything like it in his life. Lorna explained. “You get some pretend light and some water and some of those Styrofoam pots and put in the seed and float the pots and the plants will grow. We could make Vincent a garden so he could see the colours of the flowers.” Mouse stared at her. He was especially interested in that word she had used. Light. “What sort of light?” “Er Arty... arty... ficial.” Lorna beamed with pride she had been remembering that word all day. She had remembered it by thinking of Arthur needing a facial to jog her memory on its pronunciation. “Does Jamie know?” Mouse asked. “Yes, but I do too.” Lorna pouted. “It could be our secret.” That was probably true Mouse decided. Jamie might tell Father. “I brought you a brochure.” Lorna beamed as Mouse’s eyes lit up, watching at Lorna pulled a glossy book from her back pocket. “Here. This will tell you all about it. Will you read it?” Mouse took it from her. His eyes bulging with excitement. “Yes.” He whispered, clearing a space to place the brochure and starting to read. Lorna hovered by waiting for him to speak, when he did not she asked, “Shall I come back tomorrow Mouse?” There was silence. “Mouse?” Mouse raised a hand and waved goodbye. Lorna knew she had been dismissed but she did not feel unhappy. Mouse was avidly reading the book she had brought him, and that was good enough for her. Completely and utterly absorbed Mouse hadn’t read anything this exciting for a long time. It answered so many of his questions and so many of his problems including and most importantly his current one. NOW HE HAD HIS REASON! And Lorna’s idea was a terrific one, and Father would be pleased, because Father was happy when Vincent was happy, and this would certainly make Vincent happy. Delighted Mouse set about putting his invention into action. *** *** *** Catherine pushed the pile of documents aside and lay her head upon her arm. She was oh so tired. Not just physically, but mentally too. Everything seemed to be too much trouble these days. Not that she was old, far from it, she was only thirty-four but she would have given anything to have taken time out for a couple of years and retired. Many of her friends were doing just that. Some to raise a family, others to be the dutiful housewife for all intents and purposes but really just enjoying a year off work to recuperate and assess their future. But that wasn’t the entire problem as far as Catherine was concerned. Just lately she had been more than aware that her biological clock had been ticking louder than normal. It had all started with Nancy ringing to say that she was pregnant again, and then Jenny ringing to say that she might be pregnant too, but that had turned out to be a scare. Still those two events had set Catherine’s mind thinking, and now everywhere she looked, women seemed to be expecting babies. Funny how that happened. See an advert on television that people wore beige Macs and it would appear that everyone was wearing one. Something you didn’t notice before was when brought to attention appearing everywhere. But at this rate there would be a baby boom next year. To Catherine it was a depressing topic. She loved Vincent. That was the be all and end all as far as she was concerned, but Vincent was adamant that she should not give up her life Above. How could she make him see that she wanted to, not just for him but for herself? It was her time. But if she could make him see that, could she make him accept the other? Their relationship was moving ahead now. Just a little true, but in her mind the hopeful speed of its advancement left her quite breathless, and she had to clamp down hard on those feelings lest Vincent discover them through their Bond. Sometimes Catherine smiled wickedly to herself wondering what his state would be if she gave him any inkling at all to the way that her mind was working. Right now though she needed him desperately. The sense of comfort and security he infused in her when he enfolded her in his arms was a tonic to her system, and she would have given anything to see him this night. On the other hand though in her vulnerable state perhaps to see him would be risky. Not only was her biological clock sounding loudly in her ears but her body was also wanting. It had waited for three and a half years now for the intimate touch of a man, and Catherine was well aware that those close embraces of Vincent’s were highly stimulating. That was the real reason for her depressed frame of mind. The need to be in his arms, but the need to be more to him than she had ever been to him before, and not knowing how he would take to that. Recently they had kissed. Well she had kissed him. It had been spontaneous at the time, but when she had leaned in for another he had met her half way, and they had not been able to draw apart. Memories of that kiss kept her alive in her darkest moments. Fire and ice pulsing through her blood as her lips had clung to his, and everything, everything that they felt for one another manifested itself in rising glory the moment that their mouths had touched. Catherine shuddered, drawing her head from her arm to gather the documents into a pile suppressing the desire to throw them all over the balcony wall and watch them flutter to the street Below. Catherine smiled. She would probably be fined for trashing the streets. Even that amused her. Suddenly a shadow caught her eye. Catherine gasped. Her heart hammering in her breast. Vincent had come! They were not going to meet tonight. Panic flew through her. Had he sensed her feelings? Had she been careless? Did he know? She watched him pace the length of her balcony. He had not tapped upon the glass, and she could see his agitation. Something was wrong, and he would know that she had seen him. So something was doubly wrong. Catherine rose from her seat walked the few feet to the balcony doors and opened them slowly. “Vincent?” she queried, her heart stilling for the sight of him. He turned. “Catherine.” As always the sound of him uttering her name did strange and wonderful things to Catherine. She stared at him. “Am I disturbing you?” He asked somewhat pained. “No. Vincent I didn’t expect to see you tonight. I thought...” “That we’d agreed to see one another on Thursday...” He finished for her. He stopped his pacing to watch her face as he spoke, “Catherine I couldn’t wait untill then.” Something was happening, Catherine was sure of it. Her breath caught and held, “What is it Vincent, what’s wrong?” The words squeezed through tight lungs and were exhaled on a breath. Vincent turned to face the city lights, his hands gripping the balcony wall, and Catherine remained in the doorway watching him intently. Something she had said to him a thousand times and meant them rose to mind. Never had she spoken them and have them mean so much as she heard herself say “With love Vincent anything is possible.” He spun around, his eyes haunted and asking questions he dare not utter. His breathing accelerated, and Catherine could see the difficulty he was having to stay but nothing could force him to go. And she didn’t know why or at least she didn’t know how she could possibly know but something told Catherine the reason for all of this, something told her there was only one way forward and it was now, it had to be now. Or they would part and this thing, this restless, relentless thing would torment them until it made one or both of them ill. Catherine stepped toward him, seeing the rapid rise and fall of his chest at her closeness and whispered in a voice rich with desire “Make love to me Vincent.” Oh the joy! Warm waves rose and fell through Vincent’s body as they did Catherine’s. Their eyes fixed and held and neither could move. Vincent was fighting the final barrier but before her very eyes Catherine could see it crumbling. Hope seared her soul as she waited. It could go either way now. She had offered herself. He would either run away and she would never see him again, of that she was certain, or he would crush her against him and he would spend the night with her as she had so often dreamed that he would. He was trembling, Catherine knew it as a good sign, and he could not run from her in that condition but she wanted so much to reach out and hold him to her until his trembling stopped, but she dared not. She had made the first move now it was up to him. She wondered though if she should issue him with a question. He seemed unable to know what to do next. Taking pity on him, Catherine whispered, “Vincent will you spend the night with me?” That seemed to unleash his problem. For mere seconds he continued to stare at her and then he reached out his hand for her to take, “Yes.” He told her squeezing her fingers as their hands made contact. Catherine detected the trembling stronger now, but rather than encourage him into her home, she drew herself towards him, releasing his hand from hers to slip her hands around his waist and cuddled him close. Catherine had always loved the smell of him. The pervading scent of candle wax, old books, night air and a musky scent that she detected was purely his. His trembling eased at her closeness, despite the knowledge of what this night would mean to them both, having his Catherine close made Vincent feel whole again. And it was so good to be close to her. He buried his face beneath her hair, nuzzling under her ear, something Catherine had always found pleasure in. In the past she had assumed he was absorbed in traces of the scent she had worn that day, but this night she remembered that she did not wear any. In a flash of shining light, it hit her that he derived as much pleasure from the scent of her as she did from the scent of him! This night though he grew more adventurous nuzzling further down beneath her ear almost to her shoulder, before coming back up and tracing the line of her jaw. His intent flew through her mind the instant his hold tightened upon her, and Catherine held her breath as his mouth came closer to her own. She ached, literally ached to feel his mouth on hers. Once they had shared this and that several weeks ago now. The memory was nothing in comparison to the feel of his mouth against hers again. As his lips touched and with the knowledge that tonight they would be lovers Catherine let fly all of her love for him. Within the kiss Vincent’s eyes flew open, stunned by the wealth of feelings flying from Catherine’s heart to his via their connection. His mouth stilled for a mere instance and then with a groan he gathered her up into his arms and stepped forward into the bedroom beyond. It was bliss. To have him love her was nothing short of bliss. Both cried softly. Tears for the love that they shared, tears for the joy that they felt, tears for the disappearance of the final barrier and tears of knowing that each had someone they could utterly trust never to hurt them ever and forever. Nothing of the beast rose that night, Vincent’s lovemaking was sweet and tender carrying Catherine higher than she had ever experienced. There had never been another to make her feel that way before, and Vincent’s loving was more than she had ever imagined it could be. His innocence was her undoing, she cried when he entered her for the simple reason of the exquisite expression of ecstasy upon his face and sharing his joy and his happiness to know that they were really as one. “Catherine.” He whispered her name and tears fell from his eyes as they lay joined together, neither wanting to move for the moment, “Thank you.” He took her lips again, tasting the saltiness of mingled tears and Catherine sobbed against his mouth, cradling him with her arms wrapped around him so tightly. “I love you.” She murmured. “How I love you.” “As I love you.” He husked and marvelled that he could embed himself so deep without hurting her. This feeling was rapture. She encompassed him and his body seemingly melted into hers, his mind spinning away by the intensity of the feelings her body was giving his. “Oh Catherine my love.” The night was theirs but even with the dawn he could not leave her. It was impossible that they should ever be apart again. Vincent made to leave. As the first pink and gold streaks heralding the dawn stained the night sky he left her side his intent of old to leave with the receding cloak of darkness, but he could not go. He could not leave her. He never wanted to leave her again. He was a part of her now, had been a part of her in a way he had never dared to hope. And he didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew that nothing or no one would ever prise him away from her ever again. If she couldn’t live Below, then he would just have to live Above, it was as simple as that. Catherine had given him everything and he was never going to leave her again. He eased himself back into the bed trying not to disturb her and automatically Catherine huddled close. Vincent drew her against him burrowing his face deep into her neck and inhaling her scent. Catherine was truly his now and for the first time in his life Vincent knew what it was to be a man. To be concluded in part two.