Shadows Behind

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Bits of a cuckoo clock lay sprawled across the workbench like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle after Matt carefully tapped out the dozens of wooden pegs that held the ancient instrument together and used a special solvent to dissolve the old glue. This particular model had been tossed in a back shed or loft somewhere and had sustained water damage. The gears, chains and working parts were a solid mass of rust beyond redemption but the ornate wooden carvings, though blackened with age and neglect, were unbroken. Waiting along the bench was the mechanism of a second cuckoo clock, this one with a smashed exterior. Between the two, and after hours of careful reconstruction, Matt would end up with a fully working cuckoo clock every bit as perfect as when it was first manufactured a century before.

This was his hobby with little financial gain expected for his efforts. It was a fun way to pass a wet Saturday afternoon. Usually a few customers visited so it was worth staying open.

As he grunted over a stubborn peg that wouldn't come out, a movement caught his eyes and he glanced around. Two children stood in the room with their eyes on him, the little boy behind his sister but with both arms firmly around her.

“Hello Halia and Adona,” Matt said. “My, you both look smart. Are those new sweatshirts?”

“Niana bought them for us,” Adona replied with a cheerful smile. She swung herself around. “I wanted to show you.”

Halia glanced up at the row of wooden toys shelved above the bench. “You said we could see your toys,” he said in a hesitant voice.

“Of course,” Matt replied. “You know, they've been sitting there for ages, now. Would you both like one to take home?”

“Can we?” Adona gasped.

“Why not? As well as toy vehicles, there were several wooden dolls' cots and a small doll's house in the selection. “What would you like?”

“A tractor,” Halia replied. “My daddy had a tractor.”

“Me, too,” Adona added.

“So you want a tractor, too? Not a doll's house?”

“No.” The little girl shook her head. “I want a tractor, too, please.” She stopped and big hazel eyes looked at him. “Girls can have tractors can't they, Matt?”

“Of course.” Matt selected four wooden tractors and placed them on the bench. “There you are, pick one each.”

Adona's eyes shone as she grabbed one toy while her brother had a more methodical approach. He examined the remaining three in turn before choosing the middle one.

“This has a latch to join a wagon on,” he said in a solemn voice.

“So you'd like a wagon? I haven't any but we could make one sometime.”

“Yes please,” Halia replied. “One with four wheels.”

“So what say we make two of them?” Matt said. “One each.”

Adona, as usual, was the first to reply. “Yes please.” She clasped her toy in little hands.” I'm going to show Niana mine.”

She ran out of the room. Halia gave a small grin, clutched his own toy to follow but stopped at the door. “Matt?”

“Yes, Halia.”

“That pile of sand by the car park. Can we play in it?”

“It will be a bit wet out there now but later you can.”

“Thanks Matt,” the little boy answered in his serious voice. “Bye.”

Matt grinned and wondered if he could ever get the little fellow to smile. After all they'd gone through, it was probably his way of coping. He placed the remaining toys back on the shelf and returned to the cuckoo clock pieces.

A few moments later Niana appeared with a twenty-dollar note in her hand and looked serious, not unlike Halia's expression. “I told the children they shouldn't have taken the toys,” she said in a quiet voice. “But they were so thrilled with them I never had the heart to return them. How much do I owe you?”

“They're a gift.” Matt grinned. “Wooden toys don't sell well, anyway. Kids now-a-days want plastic ones with flashing lights and electric motors.”

“But Matt…” The young women's eyes warmed. “Why are you so kind?”

Matt flushed. “As I said when we met, I just want to help.”

“And no ulterior motives?”

Matt chuckled. “Of course there is, a beautiful young woman alone in the world...” He coughed and glanced away. “That was a damn stupid thing to say. I'm sorry.”

Niana fixed her eyes on him and reached out to grab his hands. “You hardly know me,” she whispered and, without warning, tears began to roll down her cheeks. “You might not like the real me.”

Matt blinked at her reaction, reached forward and tucked his arms around her, all the time expecting a firm rebuff but it never came. A soft body clutched into him. He could feel tight breasts pressed against his chest and warm arms around his neck, smell that rich clean hair and the aroma of toothpaste as her face moved a mere few centimetres away.

He reached down, placed a finger under a small chin and felt his lips tingle with emotion. Without really thinking about it he found himself kissing lips placed against his.

At first polite, the kiss soon turned into something more frantic as the woman responded. She held him, opened her mouth slightly so her tongue ran along his.

However, a moment later she placed an opened hand on his chest, gave a gentle push and stepped back. “I'm sorry, Matt,” she whispered, wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans and stepped towards the door.

Matt interpreted her action as nervousness rather than annoyance so reached out and, in one deft movement, had her back in his arms. She was now shaking but remained there with more tears flowing and tucked her face into his neck as he, without really thinking of the consequences, ran fingers up her sweater and touched the smooth cleavage between her breasts.

“Matt ” She sighed but didn't object when he cupped a breast through the material. He kissed her again, long and with passion.

Niana hesitated, kissed him lightly on the cheek and lifted his hand off her breast. “Not now, Matt, please,” she panted as if trying to contain her own emotions. “The children.”

“Of course,” he replied in embarrassment and relaxed his hold as their eyes met.

“I'm not an innocent virgin,” she whispered and continued speaking when he smiled and hugged her closer. “No, Matt. Listen to me.” The eyes were dry now but her lips quivered.

“Go on,” he replied in a gentle voice.

*

“I was eight months pregnant, Matt, when the soldiers came and shot my husband in front of me.” She began sobbing again. “I was certain I'd be r***d but they fondled me, stared at my rotund body, laughed, said they preferred slim women and told me to head for Albania.” Her body shuddered and tears again rolled down her cheeks. “Thirty minutes later they returned, tossed a bottle of petrol over the house and torched it. My husband's body was still inside. I had the clothes I stood in. That was all.”

“And your baby?” Matt asked, his voice grim.

“Stillborn.” Niana shrugged. “After I reached the border an Italian doctor helped to save my life. It was hell, Matt.” Her eyes, full of emotion stared into his. ”I don't even know his name...”

“Oh you poor dear,” he responded after the story with all its horror unfolded.

He reached forward and passion again erupted between the pair, so intense, Matt didn't want to stop but fought his emotions as he held her in his arms. After what seemed to be an eternity, the kisses stopped and Niana sniffed back stubborn tears.

“So that's me,” she finally spluttered and stepped back. “I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?”

“No. You have a life ahead, Niana but never be afraid to remember the past.”

“Oh Matt, I thought when you heard about me you wouldn't…”

“Perhaps you think too much,” Matt interrupted.

“Sure.” She blew her nose, grinned, and straightened the rest of her ruffled clothing. “Come on, the children will miss us.”

“Okay,” Matt said but noticed the twenty-dollar note placed under a block of wood on the bench. “I don't want anything for the toys, okay?” He reached forward and tucked the money in the pocket of her jeans.

“Okay,” she replied and smiled. “But you shouldn't spoil them, you know.”

“And you don't?”

“I just try to make their lives normal if there is such a thing.”

*

Together, the two walked through to the shop. It was still raining outside and no customers were around. Matt locked up and they headed across the alley. Under the veranda of the smaller building, two mud splattered and wet children were pushing toy tractors along a muddy little road they'd made in the adjacent garden and chatting away in a blend of English and their own language. They hadn't even noticed the adults watching them.

“Oh goodness,” Niana gasped. “They're filthy.”

Adona glanced up with a grubby smile. “Hi Niana,” she shouted above the noise of the rain on the tin roof,” My tractor got stuck and Halia had to come and push me out.”

“Leave them,” Matt suggested. “Let's have a cup of coffee. They can have a bath later.”

“You can play for another ten minutes and use the hose in the alley to wash yourselves down before you come inside,” Niana told the children as she led Matt inside. “I baked some scones at home. That was why I came to the shop on a Saturday, I thought you might be hungry.” She coughed and continued in a hushed but warm voice. “I miss you on the weekends.”

“And I thought it was only me,” Matt replied.

“Oh, Matt, with all those sophisticated local women in their flashy cars that visit your shop, I thought you wouldn't be interested in a stressed out foreign refugee. As time slipped by and you continued to visit, I thought you were still only trying to be kind.”

“Most of my customers are married, over fifty and have a two hundred thousand dollar mortgage over their heads,” Matt said. “Not one of them can compare to your sunny smile.” He flushed. “I'm not very good at this sort of stuff.”

“You were doing okay a few moments ago,” Niana chuckled. “I just about had to fight you off.”

“Sorry about that...”

“No you aren't.” The young woman snapped, stood on tiptoes and placed a firm kiss on his lips. “What happened is what we both wanted,” she whispered and kissed him again. “It’s what we both need. Next time we'll wait until the children are away and let things happen.” She blushed. “That came out all wrong. I can't find the English words I want.”

Matt cleared his throat. “You had some scones, I believe?” He changed the topic but his eyes showed his innermost feelings. Even in casual jeans and sweater Niana looked stunning; so feminine and self-assured. He could hardly believe what had happened those few minutes ago. It was like a dream and he'd wake up in his empty bed at home. He realized how lonely he'd been over the last long months but the emotion he felt now was more than a physical attraction of a lonely man towards a voluptuous woman ... much more.

“Of course.” Niana's laughing voice interrupted his thoughts.

“With raspberry jam,” Matt added. He plunked himself down on a stool beside the stainless steel bench they'd installed when Niana first arrived and watched as she slid a tray of scones into an oven to reheat.

She turned, smiled and took a container of orange juice out of the refrigerator. “Talking about children, I'd better bring my kids in,” she whispered with an emphasis on the word kids. “They can use the shower here.” She giggled. “Perhaps I guessed it was going to be a different sort of afternoon. I brought them an extra set of clothes.”

*

Matt had just staggered out of bed on Sunday morning when the telephone rang. It was Niana but her voice sounded remote.

“We need to talk, Matt,” she said. “Can I come and see you? I'll need to bring the children with me.”

“Of course,” Matt replied with a frown. He chatted for a moment without questioning Niana, gave her directions to his home and hung up.

“Oh, s**t,” he muttered, running his hand along the stubble on his chin, and dashing to give himself a quick shave before Niana arrived.

Half an hour later the Honda pulled up and the two children bounded out, Adona with a cheery smile and Halia a slight grin. Both were well dressed in warm clothes and carrying their tractors and a bag of other odds and ends. Niana walked around her car with a tight expression fixed to her dark eyes.

“Your house,” she said in a quiet neutral voice. “It's lovely.”

Matt glanced back at the cream bricks and bay window behind him and shrugged. “It was built to my design. Well, I had a pad full of ideas and an architect put them all together,” he added. “I started breakfast,” he said, ushering the three into a contemporary kitchen where the smell of bacon filled the air.

“Oh Matt,” the young woman sighed. “You are making it so difficult for me.”

“Why, Niana? I can tell by your body language something is wrong. If I hurt you somehow, forgive me. That's the last thing I want to do.” Matt nodded and noticed the two children gazing intently at him. “Go through to the other room, kids,” he said. “I've got cartoons turned on. I'll bring you some breakfast when it's cooked. There's bacon, eggs, fried tomatoes and toast. How does that sound?”

Even Halia grinned before he followed his sister to the comfortable lounge.

“Now, what is it, Niana?” Matt asked when the children were out of earshot.

She'd taken off her jacket and wore a blue dress under a beige knit pullover. As usual, she looked quite beautiful. Her face, though, was serious with downcast eyes and teeth biting against her bottom lip.

“It's last night,” she said. “Things happened too quickly. To be frank, I don't want to have an affair.” Her eyes blinked.

Matt reached out for her but she stepped away. “No Matt,” she said. “When you held me last night I was drawn to you. I needed your body but I am afraid.”

“But why?” Matt's stomach churned as he wiped a hand across his brow.

“I don't want s*x just for the l**t. It's not enough. At the moment I am so lonely I am trying to cope and I need you, Matt, but as you were, a generous kind friend, not a lover.”

“I see,” Matt said with disappointment ringing in his voice.” I guess I'm no great catch, am I? “

Niana looked at him and burst into tears, the same tears of emotion that wrenched Matt's heart the night before. “You don't understand,” she whispered. “It's not that I'm not attracted to you. It's the opposite, in fact.”

“You still have your husband on your mind and feel you're being disloyal to his memory; is that it?”

Niana wiped her eyes and stared across at him. “Why are you so b****y understanding,” she sniffed. “I had it all worked out. I'd come here, say I wouldn't go to bed with you and even offer to sell my business if being so close became an embarrassment.”

“And how did you expect me to react?”

“Oh I don't know. When friends become lovers, the passion passes and they go their own way, usually with one being hurt. I thought you'd be hurt, but very polite, talk for a while about something neutral, I'd go home and you'd avoid me in the future.”

Matt walked across to the stove, turned the sizzling bacon over and tossed some tomato chunks in. He glanced out the window, frowned and turned to where the young woman's eyes had followed every movement he'd made.

Without a sound, he stepped forward grabbed her two hands and, before she could react, pulled her into his chest in a powerful embrace and kissed her fully on the lips.

“Matt. Stop it,” she retorted, struggling to get out of his arms but he was too strong.

He held on, waiting until she stopped kicking and squirming, and watched while the inevitable tears continued to flow. Holding her face so she couldn't turn away, he kissed her again. Drawing her body against his, he willed himself not to touch the heaving breasts pressed against his chest. After several kisses, she responded with sobs conflicting with the passion.

Finally, Matt relaxed his hold so Niana was at an arm's length. “We're more than friends, Niana,” he whispered. “Every day I want to hold you like I'm doing now.” He let her hands go and stepped back. “But I promise I'll go no further unless it is what you want.”

“Oh Matt,” the sobbing young woman replied.

“Well?” Matt asked.

She smiled through her tears and held out a hand. “Mr. Coleman,” she said, “I accept your conditions.” She flushed. “I don't even mind if your hands drift a little.”

“Good,” Matt said with a wink. “Let's have breakfast. I'm starved.”

He turned and broke four eggs into the frying pan. They hissed and splattered while a cloud of hot smoke rose towards the exhaust fan but he never noticed. The arm around his waist and the head tucked into his neck had distracted him.

“I should be very annoyed with you,” Niana retorted.

*

Matt kept his bargain and slowly the attraction he had for Niana turned into love that, he was sure, was reciprocated. Every day, when they were alone, he'd give a slight grin, grab her in his arms and kiss her. She'd respond and, if they were in a private spot, his hand would slip across her dress or sweater to softly massage the breasts beneath. He never went under the material until one afternoon, when Niana, almost in exasperation, undid four buttons of her blouse to show she was wearing no brassiere beneath. With a slight grin, she grabbed his hands and placed them firmly on her breasts, kissed him with a passion he was now becoming used to and rubbed a soft hand up his fly.

“Niana,” he gasped as he bent to kiss her succulent body. “How can I keep my end of our bargain when you do this to me?”

“Patience, my love,” she replied using that word the first time. She moaned as his lips touched a taut exposed n****e “Oh God, Matt,” she moaned a moment later as his hand grabbed her other breast and squeezed. She lifted his head and kissed him before adding, “Perhaps I shouldn't have been so provocative.”

“It's too late now,” Matt said, lifting her up over his shoulder in a fireman's hold.

“Matt!” She screamed, kicked and thumped his back as he carried her over to an old couch in the corner of his workshop and plunked her down. He bent over and kissed her again, stood back and smiled.

“When one plays with fire,” he said, chuckling.

“You just wait,” she retorted as she redid her blouse buttons. Suddenly, she jumped up, tickled him under the arms and ran for the workshop door before he could grab her. “I have to go and pick up the kids,” she said, laughing back at him. “See you later.”

Matt went charging out after her and almost knocked an elderly lady over who, unnoticed, had entered The Cuckoo's Nest and had just been avoided in Niana's quick dash through.

“Oops, excuse me, Ma'am,” he panted. “We didn't realize how late it was and Niana, there, has to go and pick up her children.”

“You don't need to make excuses to me, young man,” she answered in an indignant voice. Breaking into a crinkly smile, she added, “I was young once, you know.”

*