Raphael was coming to stay for the holidays. Raphael with his sports car and his suave manner. Raphael with his smooth good looks and all the fucking history that we had ever shared regarding a mother who worshipped him and dismissed me. Niamh wanted him to visit, she wanted him to.
Back when we were both in our twenties, Raphael and I, we were pretty competitive. Alright, siblings are. But our bitch of a mother made it worse. Raphael, her youngest, was the pretty boy. Raphael was the guy who supposedly had all the brains, all the sporting ability and all the charm. Raphael, my kid brother was the spoilt kid of the family. We didn’t see a lot of each other as children. Raphael went off to an expensive boarding school to nurture his talents. Mummy was cut up about that, not having him around all the time, but it was for the best. Raphael had potential. Later, when time had passed, when I was getting fed up with his meteoric rise in business, during our twenties, I go the low down on that. My dad told me one night, over whisky, when I was feeling pretty shit. Raphael was her love child. I was dad’s, robust, run of the mill and constant. Dad had meekly persevered for two years whilst the Italian stud was fucking mum, and then, when it was burnt out and mum had given birth to Raphael, dad quietly accepted his duties. The deal was that Raphael would go to boarding school because of his talents but it was really to help dad cope with what the guy reminded him of.
In our twenties Raphael went into sports car concept design and he made a mint. I trudged along in accountancy. Back when I was twenty five i married Niamh. You have to picture a fantastic, auburn haired, freckle faced Irish beauty. Honest, Niamh is stunning. Raphael came to the wedding, of course, and he nearly turned my girl’s head. The chemistry was that instant and almost, that powerful. At the party that followed the wedding, he kissed her. I don’t mean on the cheek. He kissed her on the mouth and she had that look of longing in her eyes that made my blood boil. I curtly told Raph to get the fuck out of our lives. He was to fuck off back to Milan and his swanky friends. Niamh blamed herself for the split between us. It had been a time of madness. We settled back into our life. It was a good life and we had the twins.
Then, when I was 33 Pa died. Raphael wanted to build bridges again. Niamh insisted that we should invite Raphael for Christmas. He drove over, in his Porsche with a surprisingly charming, a slightly dumpy girlfriend called Tammy. Tammy is lovely, easy going and someone who loves the bones of my brother. I really took to Tammy, and she really took to our kids. Christmas eve and I watched as Niamh stared at his sportscar. She stared at his flowing locks hair, his immaculate casual clothes. She stared at his charming hazel brown eyes and his easy smile lips. It was like time hadn’t passed. He had kissed her again. Raphael gave gifts on Christmas eve, away from the usual present giving, so as to be discreet. He understood that you didn’t ‘show off’. There was some great things for the kids, a reall smart onyx signet ring for me and then he gave Niamh the red leather, gold tooled box. When she opened it… her eyes widened. It was the most exquisite, gold cartier automatic vintage santos watch. It must have been ten grands worth. It was way over the top. I watched her slip it onto her wrist and close the catch. It looked perfect on her. It looked fucking perfect. My gift, a pendant necklace was nice. Well, by comparison, it was just nice. When she kissed him on the mouth, I just froze. It was like I was catapulted back in time. I was my dad and somehow, Niamh was my mum.
Christmas day, after mass, after presents, we went to friends for lunch, the whole tribe of us. Niamh wore his watch, of course she did and a little black dress that made her hair look as though it was on fire. She looked stunning. Niamh went over in the Porsche with him, and bubbling, nothing phases her, Tammy came with me and the kids. The twins were asleep as we drove. I asked Tammy, what it was like ‘being with Raphael’? Christ she was frank. Raph was a lothario. He fucked who he wanted and he would surely fuck Niamh. He had always had a thing about her, the pictures that he saw second hand on social media. I scowled at her. I hadn’t touched a drop then but I thought I was hallucinating!
‘My advice, ‘ said Tammy, with mumsy practicality, ‘ is just to accept that he will bed Niamh. There’s no fuss just as long as you accept that when we come to stay that she goes to his bed. We’ll manage the kids Richard, it is all very discreet.’
I barely believed her. But at the party, quietly, taking a breath of fresh air when the snow started to fall, I saw him kiss her that way. Niamh’s arms snaked up around his neck, the watch slipping stylishly down and she opened her soft, sweet mouth to his.
They saw me glancing them. I felt like a peeping Tom and retired back to the large lounge where our girls were playing with a dolls house. Tammy was helping them and she read me immediately. ‘Stop fretting’ she insisted, ‘if you resist, he will take her off you. If you submit, the fucking won’t be forever. You chose.’
Lunch. Twenty or more of us around a HUGE table. Emma, Tom, they are maginficent hosts. I sat one side of the twins and Tammy the other, the kid shepherds. Niamh sat next to Raphael. People remarked on how beautiful she looked and asked where did she get that watch?! Niamh smiled shyly, it was a gift. She smiled shyly at him and told her enquirers that she wouldn’t boast about who gave it to her. It was sickening.
Raphael drove Niamh home a little early and i fretted that we need to get the kids home too. Tammy cautioned me. ‘Stop fighting it. He’ll fuck her, she will be his and if you cope humbly with that Christmas won’t be spoiled’ she said. I imagined Raph running his pretty dick inside my wife, making her groan and it was as if time had reversed again. It was like my Mum was cheating again and i was waiting for it all to blow over. It was like Tammy had become my wise old dad, advising that you couldn’t fight chemistry. ‘You can’t compete with him. He can give her everything. He can make her feel like she runs the world. If you squabble, then he keeps her and I lose what i share with the man.’ I hadn’t thought about Tammy. I hadn’t. I felt ashamed. She was so down to earth, so sensible socks and shoes. ‘Tell Niamh tonight how good she looked with Raphael’ said Tammy beneath her breath whilst the kids argued in the back of the car. ‘Submit to him through her…the fortnight will pass Richard.’
Bedtime. I felt emotionally exhausted. I felt, like shit. Niamh, she looked like a cat with a pail of cream. He had fucked her, i knew that he had. But I smiled. I laughed. i played games and served them both the great bottle of port that I had found. When we got ready for bed, Niamh didn’t want to take off that fucking watch. It was, she insisted, like when she was a girl and she didn’t want Christmas day to close. I wanted to tell her that the magic wasn’t all in one day. I stared into her lovely sage green eyes. I love my wife.
‘You’re beautiful with him’ I whispered, wondering how I said the words, ‘you looked so beautiful with him.’
Niamh pretended not to understand. She pretended that the compliment was drink. I kissed her throat, her soft white, elegant throat. There was no pendant retained there!
‘I won’t fight him any more’ I whispered. Niamh knew the history. ‘He always wins. You should go with your instinct, be his woman Niamh, i will wait’ I said.
She kissed my forehead. She sighed softly as if a relief was flooding through her veins. Gently, ever so gently, she pressed my head down, past her bare breasts and her flat tummy, down onto her curly auburn pubes. I licked up what he had left there. i licked up th sticky, the salty tasting fecund residue of their fucking. I felt Niamh’s nails dig into my scalp as she pressed her sex hard against my face, thrusting her clitty against my mouth. She was moaning, moaning, and it was as if the clock stopped on the wall.
