1. The Last Flight. Chapter 22


    Date: 7/23/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: Annamagique, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    The next two weeks passed by in a blur. I hadn't done any lasting damage to my nails and they healed quickly. I had trained myself long ago not to bite them and, although the urge was greater for a while, I resisted and kept them trim. My hands were the reminder of my past, a past I never wanted to return. The Airline had been very good during my recovery and had liaised directly with Françoise, allowing me to be free from worry whilst my mind and body took the time they needed to heal and, even now, they would not be in contact with me until I arrived at the airport in Bordeaux where a representative would meet me and fly back with me. Now that time was near, the Friday of my last weekend. My flight was arranged for the following Monday, the first day of October so I was determined to make the most of what I saw as the last weekend of my Summer. Françoise, Pascale and Dominique had all ensured that they did not have to work or see anyone so that we could enjoy the short time I had left. I wondered if my father would be here too, although I did appreciate that he had a lot of work at the farm and that it may not be possible. But I did hope that he would be here. He promised to be with me at the airport but the weekend would be complete if only he were here. I pottered around the kitchen, helping the girls to prepare dinner for when their mother returned home from work. We expected her about seven so had timed the meal accordingly. I looked at the clock on the wall. Seven ...
    fifteen. That's odd, I thought. Françoise was always home at the same time unless she was delayed at the hospital and even then she would telephone and let us know. I tried to put all thoughts to the back of my mind but, with all the things I had been through I found that to be impossible. I had become a worrier. Something else I had to learn to control! Pascale checked the fish stew simmering in the pan and looked at the clock, Seven twenty-five. She frowned but said nothing. Dominique, however, was more verbose. “Where is she? The stew will dry out if she doesn't get here soon.” “Dominique!” Pascale scolded, casting a sideways glance toward me, “She is just delayed, she will be here soon.” I smiled. Pascale would do anything to protect me, even wrap me in cotton wool if she could. “Don't worry,” I said gently to her, “I am going to be back in the real world soon but thank you.” She blushed as red as her hair but said nothing, grinning childishly with embarrassment. As I spoke I heard tyres scrunching the gravel outside. “You see?” I said brightly to them. “Nothing to worry about after all.” Pascale returned to the stew, picking up a wooden spoon and giving it a final stir as Dominique placed four large bowls on the surface beside the stove ready for her sister to ladle it out when their mother came in at the same time as I sliced some bread. The car door thumped closed twice. I assumed it had not closed properly the first time. Françoise appeared shortly. “Mmm, that smells ...
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