Time: Present Day

Location: Vatican City

Father Peter Margate took the news badly. He had liked watching the After Dark programme and he especially liked the interaction between Carter Cheval and his co-host Carrie Fisher. He liked watching lots of shows from Australia. He even liked the soapies like Neighbours and Home and Away. They helped to alleviate some of the homesickness he had suffered from all these years in Italy. He had watched the journalistic career of Carter Cheval with some interest as it blossomed into a full blown TV career.

He poured himself a Glenlivet, a single malt scotch favourite of his. He really loved Highland Park better but couldn't always justify the cost except on special occasions. This, he mused could be one. So he vowed to request a bottle the next time someone went into town. His mind drifted to Amelia. Amelia Cheval had been the typical girl next door. Beautiful, playful and strictly out of reach. Both the Cheval girls used to play tricks on him when they were growing up but he had especially liked Amelia. They had developed one of those special bonds from childhood that lingers till the grave. Amelia never made fun of him because he was different to the other kids. She never once called him a "wog" or a "refo" the half derogatory, half endearing terms given to refugees in the 1950s suburban Australia. Like their next door neighbours, the Chevals, the Margates were a strict Catholic family, very close, very loving.

When Vera Margate lost two children at birth and miscarried another they were advised by their doctor not to try again. Vera had suffered irreparable damage to the uterus that would make another pregnancy life threatening not only for the unborn child but for Vera herself. Don Margate decided they would adopt. They did. They adopted five orphaned refugees from around the world. One of these, the very first was Peter. Peter was already three years old when he arrived at the Margates. Amelia was still a baby.

They would go to school together at St Francis but separate of course. The girls to the Nun's school and the boys to the Christian Brother's school. They would all walk together to and from school, the Margates and the Chevals. Safety in numbers. Peter liked to protect all the girls from the bullies, being the oldest. It was Amelia who would sometimes protect him though, from the racial slurs he sometimes received because of his being a "wog". Amelia would come to his aid and give the bullies such a tongue lashing that they would cower away or at least stop what they were saying. Most Catholic boys felt intimidated by girls, especially beautiful ones that could tear at your ego with such vitriolic force. Carter Cheval wasn't around then of course. Carter was the son of Amelia's sister Amanda and her husband Roger. Amanda hadn't even met Roger when Peter had had to leave Sydney and go to Melbourne.

Peter poured himself another scotch as he watched the Australian news on his internet linked TV. He settled into his comfy armchair as he put on the latest After Dark that he had recorded. It wouldn't be the same without Carter though. It was late, eleven pm in Rome as the scotch did its job. Peter became melancholy and it wasn't long before the show took a background step to be replaced by thoughts of Amelia.

Peter often thought of her. Funny really, since he hadn't heard from, or spoken to her in twenty odd years. He hoped she was happy wherever she was. I guess they are right you never really forget your first love, he mused. With the thought love memories came flooding back as they often did. The first time they kissed. They had been at school. He was fifteen she was twelve. She had just given another bully a tongue lashing on his behalf. A German boy called Eric. Funny how as he had gotten older it was the other "wogs" that had started picking on him not the Australians. Peter liked to think it was because they were jealous of all the attention he got from the girls, especially the Cheval sisters. He reached for the remote and flipped through his music video file. He put on Procol Harum's A Whiter Shade of Pale. It was her song, she loved it. It was their song. He played it for her the first time they made love.

It had been a disaster a long time in the planning. They had been sort of lovers for over 6 years. That remembered year leading up to her and her twin, Amanda's 18th birthdays last New Years'. A year full of will we or won't wes? A year of frustration and ecstasy. Hiding out at the drive in. Steaming up the windows with heavy breathing. Not seeing much of the movie but seeing Amelia's lovely breasts freed at last from the caged restraint that was her bra. Urgent fingers gently caressing parts of her he had never seen. The warm wet smell of her driving him crazy, making his balls ache. Lover's balls his mates called it. He ached for her now.

He poured another scotch, a bit bigger to dull the pain. He loved her still. Then it happened. He was sitting for his VCE, the Victorian Certificate of Education, albeit two years behind some of his classmates due to his slow start and trouble with the English language. But now his school days were numbered. He realised he wouldn't be with Amelia as often. What if another boy stole her heart after she finished school while he wasn't there? The mere thought of it terrified him. But she loved him didn't she. She hadn't said as much. Even when he had declared his undying love for her. She had smiled and said "you better".

Her parents had invited Carter's parents to a weekend in the snow. Of course Peter couldn't afford to go being so close to his music exams. As luck would have it Amelia came down with the dreaded kissing disease, Glandular fever. She was quite ill at first but was on the road to recovery when it was time to leave. Even so she convinced her Dad that she should probably not go to the snow. She also convinced him that even though she was eighteen now, she would be a bit scared to be on her own but if Peter could stay over she would be fine. Reluctantly, at first, but only after warning Peter, half jokingly, that there was to be no hanky panky between him and his favourite daughter. It would seem that it was lost on him why his favourite daughter had come down with the dreaded kissing disease.

It was Saturday morning. The sun was shining and all was in readiness. The Chevals and the Margate mob had assembled outside of their respective homes. They had planned to all leave together on Friday afternoon. After all it was Poet's Day (Piss Off Early Tomorrow's Saturday) but Jean was a big-time corporate lawyer now and had been held back at the court on a trade practices case. This he half expected so Plan B was now in train. Pack Friday night, leave early Saturday. It was the long weekend so there was bound to be traffic. Plus it would take longer to fit chains in the line up for the final ascent of the mountains.

First the Chevals then the Margates each took a turn to kiss Peter, then hug the diseased one, Amelia. Peter's mum and dad were finally getting used to being kissed on both cheeks when greeting or saying goodbye to a member of the Cheval family. The awkward dodging and stunned silence had given way to a jovial hug and kiss with plenty of smiles and well wishes. They finally left Amelia and Peter on the nature strip and piled into their respective cars, but not before Amanda had said to Amelia, "Now don't forget what I told you. And remember you have to do as I say because I'm older than you. Oh . . . and don't do anything I wouldn't!" She grinned and gave her sister the wink.

Her mother chimed in, "Amanda, leave your little sister alone, she is sick you know. Amelia, if you get any worse you call us and go to the doctor. . . see to that Peter . . . I'm trusting you with my precious. (Peter nodded a little too enthusiastically) Had they noticed he was nervous . . . apparently . . . not?

"Now Amelia, keep taking your aspirin, and there is Bongelo in the medicine cupboard. I don't like the look of that purple blotch you have in your mouth." Amanda laughed out the window. Amelia was mortified.

"Oh Mum!" she cried. Her mother had no filters. She spoke whatever was on her mind at the time regardless of people's feelings.

She rabbited on, "Your father has left fifty dollars on the fridge for snacks and treats and maybe a pizza delivery. There's plenty of food in the fridge. There's Coca Cola in the bar fridge in the garage. You can offer Peter a beer if he likes. He's nearly twenty now. That's okay isn't it Roger?"

Roger was getting toey. "Yes, yes, I guess so, let's just get outta here before sunset already." It was seven am. Both cars pulled off in convoy and were gone.

There was an eerie silence and feeling of isolation in the court. All the neighbours in the court were fairly well to do and had holiday houses to which they retreated from their busy lifestyle each long weekend. They had all left by midnight Friday night.

As soon as both cars were out of sight Amelia grabbed Peter's hand, she noticed it was a bit clammy, but she didn't care. They were alone at last! She led him into the Cheval's house. As soon as they were inside they fell upon each other in a passionate embrace. Amelia had gotten up really early, raided the bar fridge and taken a bottle of champagne. It was waiting in an ice bucket under her bed along with two crystal flute glasses. A Procol Harum album was ready to go on her antique Transigram record player. Her mum had programmed her, from birth just about, to love Procol Harum. She would play it non-stop while Amelia and Amanda were captive in their child seats in the back of the car.

Now it would be background music as she finally became a woman at last. She had always been impatient to grow up since a baby. Almost as if life was too slow for her. She looked forward to birthdays eagerly and would lie about her age at any opportunity. Mostly she got away with it because she had an air of maturity about her that belied her age. Most people thought that she must be the older sister, not Amanda. She was also gorgeous enough that any bouncer would melt and let her into any club in town without her having to show ID.

Peter had her down on the sofa in no time. She pushed him off her gently, still he fell to the floor knocking over a small side table and glass ashtray. "Wait!" she commanded. Peter remembered how panic stricken he had been. She's changed her mind he had thought. He panicked. What have I done. She laughed as he fell to the floor. Alright I guess it doesn't matter. Just do me a favour and go upstairs. In my room, in, Peter, are you listening, (Peter remembered nodding but being speechless), in the top draw of my dresser you'll find a condom. Put on the music . . . and the condom and come straight back to me.

Peter flew up the stairs. He almost tripped himself up in his haste. He remembered how relieved he had been because his immediate thought when she pushed him off was that she had changed her mind . . . about everything! He had worried about her losing interest in him each time he went to Melbourne. He had to go for his monthly stint at the Music Academy where he was majoring in Classical guitar. He had gone through multiple scenarios on the plane back where she had changed her mind at the last minute leaving him embarrassed and naked. He found the condom, put on 'A Whiter Shade of Pale'. He recalled how relieved he was that he was still rock hard.

Peter reached down and parted his white cassock. He began to play with himself. He remembered stripping in record time, clothes strewn everywhere. The condom went on without a hitch. Peter was ready! He raced down the stairs. He found her naked and smiling!

He fell on her. They both collapsed to the sofa. She pushed him off again and said.."Wait, slow down, go and get a towel from the linen cupboard."

He remembered that he had obeyed without a word. He was high on something, her smell, her touch, he had to have her, there was no way back from here. He remembered running to find the linen cupboard. He had been in the house a thousand times but the linen cupboard had never been this important. He stubbed his toe. He swore. She laughed. He got a towel. He raced back to her.

"You had to get a white one, didn't you?"

He looked confused, frustrated, then she drew him to her. She told him to place the towel under her hips. She stopped, "You really are a virgin too aren't you?" And without waiting for a reply, "I'm so we glad you haven't been lying to me. Slow down. It's going to be fine." He was in love. He came immediately. He bucked savagely; she held him in a kiss and began to cry.

He lay there for a long time, savouring the moment. She pushed him off her again. He went to speak but she put her finger up against his lips in a "shush" pose. "Get off me please," she said, rolled on her side and continued to cry.

Peter was on his knees bedside the sofa. He tugged at the towel. It was covered in blood. He lifted her legs grabbed them in the crook of his left arm and jerked the towel free. Blood ran down the front of the sofa. He asked her if she was alright. She nodded. He said "But there's so much blood. I'm not sure that that's normal."

"Had a lot of virgins have we?" she asked sarcastically. Peter was shocked. She very rarely spoke to anyone like that, let alone him. He grew worried. Worried about her well-being mainly. But he also had this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that what they had just done had changed their lives forever. Not necessarily for the better either. He wished they could take it back. He could somehow put her hymen back together, stop the infernal bleeding. Get his Amelia back!

"Amelia," he started, he only used her name like this when he was pissed off with her or worried about her. "Are you certain you're alright? You're still bleeding I think." There was fresh bright red blood on the sofa.

"Look Einstein, I'll be fine. It's probably the aspirin. Mum said I might bleed more because of the aspirin but it's nothing to worry about.

Peter was shocked now. "You discussed this with your mother?" he asked incredulously.

"No, of course not, she meant when I had my period silly." Peter was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

"Maybe I should take you to the doctor."

"Are you insane? And get blood all through your car as well. Look I will be okay. I just want to be alone. Just leave will you!.You can come back in a couple of hours and check on me if you must but for now just go!"

Peter knew he was beaten. He tried to mop up the blood on the sofa with the towel. He only made it worse. He picked up the sodden towel and padded across to the laundry. He left a trail of blood right across the carpet and onto the tiles. He found a small laundry basket and tossed in the towel. He pulled the bloody condom off and tossed it in on top of the towel. Amelia said, "You still here?" He left in silence too scared to say another word.

Music: A Whiter Shade Of Pale - Procol Harum

Chapter 7 - A Whiter Shade of Pale

0 Comments