OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES (11 page)

"And may I offer my congratulations, as I should have done before." She shook their hands again, and Dave saw that the daughter was grinning at them, while the grandmother seemed mostly oblivious.

"Thanks," Dave said. He was starting to wonder when he'd encounter someone who
didn't
approve. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd handle it.

"Thank you very much, Mrs Widgery. We're very happy about it, I must say. It's been a
marvellous
few days …"

Before Nicholas could launch into a detailed account of exactly what he was so very happy about, Dave smoothly cut in. "We were wondering if you knew anything about the circle of standing stones near the cottage. Like, the history, maybe."

Margaret looked rather taken aback. "I can't say that I do. It's local stone, as you've probably seen, and they say it dates back well over two thousand years. But more than that - I don't know."

"Any stories, then?" he tried. "Like, what happens if you count the stones? Nicholas said I shouldn't."

"Ah!" Maeve put in rather cheerfully. "If you manage to correctly count the stones, then the Devil pops up and drags you back down to Hell with him."

"And yet," said Dave, "here I am."

"
Why, this is Hell
," Nicholas muttered, "
nor am I out of it
."

Margaret looked from one to the other of them - but surely fretting more over the maintenance of their happiness rather than anything real relating to the stones. "It's nothing but tall tales. I'm sure there's nothing at all to worry about."

Then Joan spoke, proving she wasn't so oblivious after all. They all hushed to listen to her quiet voice. "If you see someone up there, sitting on the altar stone …"

"Admiring the view," put in Dave. "It's a great view from up there." Not that they had really looked, now that Dave thought about it. They'd been more concerned with the actual stones.

"I wouldn't go disturbing them, my lad."

"Why's that?" he asked. Though he knew he didn't want to hear the answer.

"Because sometimes it'll be folk having a rest while walking along the coastal path. And sometimes it'll be folk who aren't resting at all."

At which Nicholas was looking decidedly spooked.

"Right," said Dave. "I think that's probably enough hair-raising stories for now."

"Pay it no mind," Margaret urged. "They're just stories."

"Exactly. And we're on our honeymoon. To be honest, I plan to spend most of it safely tucked away in bed." At which Maeve guffawed appreciatively - and Dave abruptly blushed crimson, realising that not only had he managed to set Nicholas's imagination working overtime about the stones but he hadn't avoided the honeymoon-related embarrassment after all. "Oh
God
," he grumbled. "One day I'll learn when to shut up."

At least Nicholas was looking at him fondly, ghosts forgotten for now. "I think that's our cue to leave, taking what little is left of our dignity with us."

"Absolutely."

Margaret kept them long enough to press upon them another business card with her phone numbers, despite them having already found a stack of such cards at the cottage - and to assure them at disconcerting length that she wouldn't be dropping by without phoning first, so they should feel free to
do whatever they liked at any time
without fearing
any surprises
. Soon enough, however, they were out of there.

"I think," said Nicholas, "we should go and do … exactly what they think we're going to go and do …"

"All right," Dave gamely replied. It wasn't as if he could feel any more embarrassed.

"Or … maybe something wickeder still."

Dave grinned at him. "You're on."

They had lunch at a pub in Lizard the next day. It was cold but sunny, so they sat out the front under a canvas umbrella, taking in the view to the south. The land fell away until it reached the southernmost point of mainland Britain. "We should do that, should we?" asked Dave in admittedly lazy tones. "Are we doing the tourist thing?"

"We could wander down there … if I've left you with the necessary energy."

Dave thought for a moment, and chuckled. "There's no right answer to that, is there?"

"No," Nicholas smugly replied.

"Have you done the other points? I mean, north, west, east …"

"No, and I'm not likely to now, am I?"

"Maybe we should do this one anyway. Seeing as we're here."

Nicholas scrunched up his face a bit. "Have you done that in Australia?"

"No … Byron Bay's pretty cool, though. That's the easternmost point. That's worth a visit, anyway. Pete Murray lives there, though he's really a Queenslander."

Nicholas was grinning again. "Will we go on holiday there, do you think?"

"Yeah, maybe." It was Dave's turn to scrunch up his face. "I dunno. Some years, I'm so busy with the tours that just hanging out at home is enough of a holiday."

"I can understand that."

Their conversation might have ambled on forever, if a couple of blokes hadn't come out from the pub with their pints, and sat themselves down at the next table along. And they obviously weren't there for the ploughman's lunch. One was an older man with a white hair and beard, who seemed well-weathered and well-salted. The other was maybe forty or so, with black hair and a devilish glint in his dark eyes made all the more attractive by his narrow sinuous hips.

"Afternoon," the two blokes said in greeting.

"Afternoon," Dave said - and Nicholas responded rather warily, "Good afternoon."

"I heard you young fellows were interested in our stone circle," the older bloke said.

"Well - " said Dave, wondering how to head this off at the pass. Nicholas's face had gone as blank and cold as if the shutters had come down.

"I could tell you some tales, and that's the truth."

"Tell 'em, Bert," the thin one encouraged.

"That really won't be necessary," said Nicholas. He added rather pointedly, "We're on our honeymoon, you see. The two of us - fellows."

Old Bert wasn't put off, but blessed them with a genial smile and actually winked before launching into his story. "My mam told me, from when I was a boy - "

"
Really
," Nicholas continued, "we're far too busy fucking to care about stone circles. And when I say fucking, I mean
each other
."

"Oh aye, I heard that, too," the fellow quite amiably replied, winking again.

Dave couldn't help but let out a laugh. It seemed that Nicholas had been silenced and maybe even a little shamed, so Dave said, "Go on, then. Tell us your tales." And he reached across the table to squeeze Nicholas's hand and then hold it as a gesture of support.

"So, my mam used to tell me, right from when I was a boy, that those stones used to be witches who were dancing around in a circle one May Day, and they was cursed by the local priest for their heathen ways, and turned to stone."

Nicholas was unimpressed. "I thought the stones were over two thousand years old. In which case they're a bit early for priests and heathens."

"
I
heard tell," said the other bloke, "they were maidens of the village who refused the, er … the
attentions
of their local lord and master, and it was him that damned them."

"Right …"

"I heard there are times when the local maidens still dance there," he added with a knowing wink. "Either way, witches or maidens, once a year at midnight every May Day they are freed from the stone for an hour - but still they must dance, though they are weary unto death."

"
And
once a year at midnight," Bert contributed, "when the altar stone hears the church bells ring, it turns over, it turns right the way over."

"Is that also on May Day?" Nicholas asked, in full sceptical mode - though he looked rather paler than usual. "I'm sure no one in the cottage would get any sleep, with all that going on."

They were saved from any further stories when their lunch arrived, and the barkeep chased the two locals back inside with mock threats of never serving them again if they drove away the visitors. Perhaps the barkeep had read Nicholas's discomfort, because he came back to say, "I'm sorry. Bert is mostly harmless, and he can be great company, but Vincent does egg him on rather."

"It's fine," said Dave. "Honestly, it's fine." Then, once they were alone again, he said to Nicholas, "These stories … Don't think about them, if they bother you."

"They don't bother me," Nicholas replied a little remotely. Then after a moment he smiled, and said rather more sincerely, "They don't bother me at all."

Late that night, however, Dave woke in the small hours to find Nicholas standing at the bedroom window, having drawn one of the curtains open, staring pensively up towards where the stone circle must be.

"Hey," said Dave, bleary with sleep.

"Hey," Nicholas softly replied. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"'S all right …" Dave got up out of bed despite the bed being perfectly warm and comfortable, and went to stand behind Nicholas, wrapped his arms snugly round his narrow waist. He peered over Nicholas's shoulder to see the stones fitfully lit by moonlight. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing. Nothing, really." Nicholas sighed. "Those are just cloud shadows."

"Not ghosts, then?"

"I think we're going to lose the fine weather."

"All the more reason to stay tucked up safely in bed."

Nicholas huffed a laugh, and then sighed again. "Just what I always wanted … a husband with a one-track mind."

"Come back here, then." Dave took the man's hand and tugged, stepping back towards the bed. Nicholas followed him willingly enough.

It was true that Nicholas generally took the lead when they had sex, but every now and then Dave felt the need to take care of his lover, and this was such a time. He encouraged Nicholas into the bed, lying on his back, and then lay near, leaning over him to kiss him and sooth him with gentle hands until Nicholas finally forgot about the fretting, and thought only of Dave.

Slowly still, Dave knelt up and undressed them one item at a time - first his own t-shirt and then Nicholas's, next his own boxer shorts and then his lover's. His husband's. They were both so very ready, but he didn't rush. He reached for the lube in the bedside cabinet, spread some on his palm and then caressed it onto Nicholas's cock and balls, and his own. Then he lay over the man, matching them up with their legs interleaved, and his hips almost by instinct started an easy rocking motion as he thought about the strong slow surge of the sea.

Nicholas's hands came up to run back over Dave's hair, to shape themselves to his nape and encourage him down for a kiss, and then slowly slowly those hands slid lower down Dave's back, those palms and long cool fingers moulding themselves to every inch of his skin in turn, until at last they were firmly spread on Dave's rear, and Nicholas eventually in desperate need grasped him hard, dug his fingertips in, begged with those midnight-blue eyes …

Dave spun it out for a few moments longer until at last even he felt it was the perfect time, and then he slid a hand down under Nicholas's rear, and they crushed themselves even closer together, each thrusting against the other like mad things - until the end came, and they quaked with it, and clutched at each other, and mouthed kisses over anything of the other they could reach.

Afterwards, as Dave was drifting drowsily, Nicholas said, "I think you should fuck me."

"Mmm?" he managed.

"Not
now
. I mean, sometime. While we're here on our honeymoon."

Dave opened one eye and then the other to peer at his lover in the dark. "If that's really what you want."

"It is. I really think we should."

"All right," he said, though it was more an acknowledgement than an agreement. "Sleep now?" he asked.

"Yes. Sleep now." And Nicholas turned to him, and they snuggled close as they usually did when they slept. But Dave was sure he slipped away first.

nine

The following morning was rainy, so they took the opportunity to laze about, indulge in a full cooked breakfast, and then put their feet up in the front room with a book for Nicholas, the Kindle for Dave, and a large pot of coffee between them. The rain cleared in the early afternoon however, so they decided to walk the coastal path around to Kynance Cove, even if the overcast sky meant they wouldn't be seeing the countryside at its best.

As it was, the place was pretty spectacular. The cove was fairly small, but the rocky outcrops were huge and dramatically shaped, and the sea was running high with milky-turquoise waves dashing white spray. Dave kind of loved the wildness of it. They took a while to watch the waves crashing in, but it wasn't long before the cold wind coming off the sea started biting a bit too deep. Luckily there was a café just inland from the cove, so they headed there for a warming cuppa.

Dave placed their order while Nicholas went to use the facilities. He took the opportunity to ask the guy at the counter if there were any butterflies around at this time of year. The guy consulted with a young woman who happened to be making a delivery, but unfortunately the general consensus seemed to be that there weren't, and certainly not now the weather had finally turned cold. "Thanks anyway, mate," Dave responded.

"What's up?" Nicholas asked once he returned.

"I was just asking about butterflies in the area. I think we're out of luck."

Nicholas smiled at him with a glowing kind of softness. "I know. It's far too cold for them by now, I'm afraid, and not enough flowers to drink from."

"I guess I figured you'd plan any trip like this around butterflies."

The smile grew fonder still. "It's our honeymoon, David," Nicholas said, reaching to hold Dave's hand across the table. "I wasn't thinking of anything but you."

Dave tried to suppress a pleased grin, but didn't succeed very well. He hung onto Nicholas's hand when Nicholas would have withdrawn it. He might be putting his Aussie citizenship at risk for being demonstrative, but Denise had trained him too well over all their years together. She'd had no patience with the restraint of affection beyond what was required by decency.