We went over to Will, and thanked him for his contribution to our special day.
He smiled. “It was the least I could do. None of us ever imagined that we would ever see this day, let alone be part of it. You just take good care of my little sister.”
“I’ll do that, gladly,” I said. He hugged his sister and then me.
We left them to it, returning to the house. Jeanette stood by the door and was obviously waiting for us.
“Ma, thanks for the most wonderful day of my life,” Gilly said, embracing her mother.
“Isn’t that a coincidence now?” Jeanette said. “Because it’s my happiest day too.”
She then gave me a hug, but we all got too choked up to say very much. Richard appeared, smiling.
“Gilly, I know we never spoke about it, but your mother and I are giving you Burnside Cottage as a wedding present. Alex and Will have spent the last few months restoring and renovating the place, so when ye get back from your honeymoon ye have somewhere as your own. Now ye have to come and visit, as you own a wee bit o’ the farm as well,” he said. This was too much for the girl. She burst into tears and flung her arms around his neck.
We were booked into a local four star Hotel for the night, so as it was nearly nine pm, we decided to make a move. Saying goodbye took a long time, particularly as nearly everyone was rather inebriated by this time. When we finally left, I felt completely drained.
I drove slowly away from the farm. Gilly pulled the sun visor down, making the mirror light up behind it. She wiped the tears away from her eyes and repaired her make up. I stopped the car, while she did her face. I took advantage of the stop to remove the many cans and other rubbish that had been tied to the back.
“Well, Mrs Ryan, how do you feel?” I asked.
“Wonderful, Mr Ryan, wonderful,” she said.
“No regrets?”
“Just one.”
“Oh?”
“That you didn’t come along earlier.”
“Then things might have not worked out the way they have.”
“True.”
We arrived at the hotel to find that Will had upgraded our simple double room to the bridal suite. There was a complimentary bottle of chilled champagne waiting for us.
I carried her over the threshold and we made mad passionate love as soon as the door closed – no precautions and no worries. Then we had a long shower together, drinking chilled champagne in the huge four poster bed. I’d love to report that we made love about six times that night. However, we were both so physically and mentally exhausted, we managed one and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. As our bodies and minds were joined, so were our souls. We felt so much as one, as makes no difference.
Chapter Nine
Gillian
Ed woke me as he went for his shower. I knew that it was only six o’clock, so I didn’t have to get up yet. I dozed for a while, waking again as he came and kissed me goodbye.
I hung onto him for a little while, so he chuckled.
“You know that only gets me horny,” he said, as I brushed the outside of his crotch with my hand.
“Your uniform always turns me on,” I told him, so he squeezed my butt and left me alone.
I lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling for a while, warm and cosy, yet very contented. We had been back in the States for a few months now, so I was just beginning to get used to being called Mrs or Dr Ryan. It was the fall, so some of the leaves were turning, but it was still warm in South Carolina.
I had a teaching job in the local High School as head of the languages department, specialising in English. Once I got my green card, having convinced the immigration authorities that I had not married Ed just to get one, I found the school only too happy to employ me. The last teacher had been unable to return due to some accident or illness, so they were beginning to panic. I offered myself for a short-term contract, as I had plans to increase the Ryan family as soon as I could. Ed and I were not getting any younger.
We rented a home off base, as Ed was looking to buy a place of our own. I teased him, as he had always shunned the home owning classes as being downtrodden and beaten.
We had been offered married quarters on base, but after some discussion turned it down. Ed had a small apartment, so that he had somewhere to go when his hours were disruptive, but he also didn’t relish the military wives social scene for me.
I wasn’t that bothered, as I found the wives were actually a great bunch, so socialised with them anyway. I found that there was a little snobbery, in that you were classified according to your husband’s rank. As a Sergeant Major’s wife, I was considered beneath many of the commissioned officers’ wives, by them. However, being British, a professional, non-medical doctor with a brother who was a major, I confused the hell out of them.
Being off base was better in one respect, as it that meant I could socialise with normal humans as well. As with all military, no matter what nationality, the Americans looked after their own. The PX stores and welfare side were exceptional, so when I first arrived, I would spend my time shopping, just for recreation. It was all such fun.
The high school was about a twenty-minute ride away. I had reluctantly sold my Kawasaki after the honeymoon, so almost the first thing I did when I arrived was buy a Harley Davidson.
My first day at the school was something else. Ed drove me up in the Mustang for my initial interview, but I rode the bike in for my first day on the job.
As I rode through the gates, I caused a gaggle of teenaged males to scatter. All the teachers had named parking spaces, so I found mine with nice new white paint on the tarmac, “DR G. RYAN”. I found that the Americans loved titles. I parked the bike in the space and got off. I was wearing my leathers, as I always did, with a new open face helmet, with silvered visor.
I took the helmet off and shook my blonde hair free. I became aware that this simple activity had made me somewhat of a spectacle, as nearly everyone within the vicinity had stopped what they had being doing and were now staring at me.
A plump, middle-aged man in an out of date suit approached me with a frown.
“You can’t leave that machine there; that space is reserved for one of the faculty.”
I turned and looked at my bike and my name in big white letters.
“It’s for a Dr. G. Ryan?” I said.
“That’s right, move it, this instant!”
“And just who are you?” I asked.
“That is irrelevant, just move that machine.”
“Well, perhaps you ought to know that I am Doctor Gillian Ryan, and this, you over-bearing and exceptionally rude man, is my parking space. So take that over-stuffed ego of yours and go shove your nose in some of your own business!”
I took the saddlebags off the back of the bike, as they had my working clothes and other stuff in them. I then walked passed the gaping wind-bag to the front steps and made for the main door
I heard a stunned male voice ask his friends, “Who the fuck is that?”
The reply was equally hormonally impaired, “That is the new head of English!”
“You are kidding me?”
“Nope! Look, it even has her name on the parking lot!”
“Shit, I nearly dropped English. I thought Dr Ryan was some old guy.”
I smiled and made my way to the staff changing room. I changed out of my leathers, so was wearing a smart skirt and blouse when I went to report to the Principal, Dr Rudi Goldmann.
He welcomed me rather formally, and explained one or two things about the school. I mentioned the man in the parking lot.
“Ah, that sounds like Andrew Simpson. He is one of the languages faculty. I’m afraid you were selected to the post that he felt should go to him. Not a good start, really.”