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Divepen: Alrait kul letz roll

Ok sir

' No, i won't enjoy it,' she insisted, ' i feel too anxious.' 'What are you anxious about?' he asked patiently. ' Everything. I dont know . . .' she shrugged. Stephen could be so infuriatingly pedantic. He behaved as if there was an answer to everything when for the last few months she had been feeling she did not even know what the question was. ' Darling, you're being a bit irrational. . . .' stephen attempted to soothe her. ' Yes, i know that, stephen,' she retaliated icily, deliberately looking away from him. ' Emotions are irrational,' she repeated his word with heavy emphasis, adding under her breath, 'not that you'd understand. . .' As soon as she said it, she wished she had not. She turned to look at his face and saw that the comment had wounded him. ' I'm sorry,' she retracted it immediately, ' that was so unfair . . . It's just so hot, i'm stifled . . . .' 'It's OK,' he forgave her instantly, ' i knew i shouldn't have said i'd go to the convention , but i'm in the programme now and --- ' No really, it's fine. I'll be fine,' she found herself saying, trying to engage him in a smile, but he was looking straight ahead, perplexed, as if he could see something very interesting on the cab's meter. Alison stared at the distant traffic lights changing from red, to red and orange, to green. Still the traffic refuse to move. Blinking back tears of frustration, she wondered why it was that her relationship with stephen, which had run perfectly smoothly for five years, had, just occasionally in the past few weeks, begun to snag, as if they were slightly out of sync with each other. It was a bit like the zip on ier soft leather shoulder bag, she thought, as her right hand played absently with the charm that dangled from the zipper. The two halves always used to slide together so beautifully, but recently one side had started to catch on the lining, making Alison tug at it with a disproportionate impatience that threatened to destroy the fastening altogether. * * * * * Lia was lying naked on the bed. The electric fan hummed as it turned lazily on its pedestal, rustling the drawn curtains, then blowing gently on her skin, blowing on her skin, then rustling the curtains. It was only when she registered Neil's footsteps on the wooden staircase that she opened her eyes and realized that she had been lulled into an afternoon doze. ' Hello, gorgeous.' Neil was beside the bed, leaning over and brushing her mouth with a soft, dry kiss. He knelt on the bed and put his lips to her belly, ' Dad here,' he whispered against the stretched, smooth skin, ' have you been a good baby today?' He planted a kiss on the dome of Lia's tummy, then turned his face towards hers, his cheek still resting there, smiling bashfully, half embarrassed by his own silliness. Lia liked it when he talked to the baby. His northern accent was so gentle, and the uncharacteristic soppiness made him seem somehow vulnerable. She stroked damp hair back from his forehead. His face felt like fine sandpaper against her bump; she could smell the saltiness of his sweat. She loved the sheer physically of the contact of his skin against hers, the weight of his head resting next to their baby. They lay staring at each other, joined in a silent cocoon of peaceful contentment. ' What's the time?' she asked asked him eventually. ' sixish, i should think,' he replied, shifting up the bed so that he was lying next to her, clasping his hands behind his head, ' i'm sorry i'm a bit late, but the first team made heavy weather of it at the start.' Neil was Head of the Sports Department at a local comprehensive. She remembered him telling her that morning that there was a cricket match against the local independent school. ' Did you win?' she asked, turning on her side to see him looking at the ceiling, grinning all over his face. He loved cricket. Playing it was best, but watching the kids win was pretty good too. ' Thrashed them!' he said. ' Four wickets to spare in the end.' he looked at her beaming. She smiled at him, knowing little of the rules, but sensing that it had been a good victory. ' And their parents are paying three thousand pounds a term for the privilege . . .' Neil added with further satisfaction. He was a good teacher, a committed teacher, and the inequalities encouraged by private education pained him. He wanted the children he taught to do well, and it gave him additional pleasure when they triumphed over public schoolboys. ' That's the great thing about sport,' he told Lia, as he often did, ' it doesnt matter who you are, or where you come from . . . . .'

princesssusan: Totally disagree wit u mike isnt a nyc person n mayb molest our dear cynti

No joor, lets wait n see

Lolz

Hmmmmm. Am enjoying this story o

Ekuse, 9c work. Inem will just kill herself, she's in love with Ubong and Oga Ubong na is in love with her

lilypet: wats funny aipete

Am sori to say diz ma'am. Develop in your writing skills, write like a mature somebody,am very sori ma, cos wen i started reading it i thought u copied it frm ur younger 6ta's pry schl storybook. Am veri sori 1c again ma

Lolz, better. Naughty and ashewo husband

mikedimeji: Well said but u need to also rem that Henry didn't marry Linda out of compulsion, Linda decided to marry him without taking her time to consider Henry's antecedents. Whether she like it or not two wrongs don't make a right.

What u mean nw is that henry is doing the right thing, that Linda is nt saving her marriage abi. Ah! Your wife or gf will be trying oh

mikedimeji: Hmmm do u know that when it comes to the issue of marriage, what is applicable in one family might not be applicable in another, in other word marriage involve personalties and am sorry to say am scared of Henry's personalty (arrogant, proud, hot tempered and implacable) and I doubt if Linda's approach to this issue will be a good one. The only grace she has is that she was not asked to sign a prenuptial agreement otherwise it won't be easy.

Lets wait and see, read and also learn

Amy u beta follow shalimar to church 4 ur deliverance

Lolz, pweety 4ny cnt stop laffin. Oh! Lemme seal my mouth like blueseal. Am following Momma

Hmmmmm

mikedimeji: Am having mixed feeling with Linda's late attitude. I think Linda need to address this issue from a married woman perspective and not from a spinsters way of thinking. All this she's doing is not the way to resolve marriage issues involving an irresponsible (cheating) husband. If she can no longer cope she should file a divorce. Becos the truth is she's changing her being gradually which could be detrimental in the long run. My thought any way.

Have you watched Mr and Mrs?

WATCH OUT FOR PART TWO

Gagangagangagan

Mike z Tara's bf. Hmmmm Mike n Cynthia will fall in love n cynthia will change mike n also gist him abt tara's bhaviour

Women trafficker or wat cn we call it

Lolz

Come n update oh

Oya come and update oh. Lolz

Lolz. Ben don kill am ni, lolz d lady shouted ke

This kind of family gan

Am here with u joor swtrat. 9c wan mehn

Rainstorms: wow thanks

Lolz, i girraffe it ni

Adiye mi, eyi ti mora, losan ojo emi ko mo pe o ti je lo, obo si koto ojo si pa baba ba mi gbe gbigbe ti mo gbe gbigbon lo n gbon, mo dana fun ara re si ya o ye mewa o pa mesan o fi kan dele bomode oku agba lo n da

kingphilip: still here dear keep up da gud work

Tanx bro, i have to rest cos my fingers are aching me

Stage two: conceive. That hadn't gone according to schedule at all, and even after she had finally become pregnant, she had somehow always associated the house with failure. Recently, there had been odd occasions when she had found herself filled with nostalgia for her little garden flat in Islington, now rented out to another single career woman in her early thirties, for the cheap pine furniture she had once saved so hard to buy, the shabby kitchen where she had hosted dozens of informal dinner parties, serving her friends pasta and salad from every shape and size of plate. The taxi crawled along in the rush-hour traffic. Alison glanced at her watch. She had been hoping to have a cool bath and change out of the black linen suit into a clean, loose dress before the class, but at this rate they were going to be late. Stephen had been right. It would have been better to tale the tube. A lot of men knew would have pointed this out, but stephen wasn't like that. He didn't harbour unspoken rerentment. It was one of the things she most liked about him. ' I booked a table at the River Café for afterwards,' he remarked casually, as they approached the Hammer-smith roundabout. ' Really?' she said, delighted by the reminder that, amid his generally methodical approach to life, Stephen was capable of conjuring up treats when she least expected them. ' Yes, i thought it would be pleasant to have dinner together by the river before i go . . . .' ' Oh!' she said, her mood sinking. There had been so much to do at work, she had momentarily forgotten he was flying to a medical convention in America the next day. The dates coincided almost exactly with the first week of her maternity leave. When the invitation had arrived a couple of months before and they had discussed whether he should go, she had imagined it would be fun to have a little time on her own before the birth. It would give her the opportunity to catch up with some of the friends she never seemed to see these days, have long unhurried lunches, or indulge herself in afternoons at the sanctuary. She had told Stephen not to give it a second thought. Then, she covld not have anticipated the hot weather, or how huge and uncomfortable she would become. Now that he was about to leave, his departure felt like a betrayal. ' What's up?' stephen asked. ' I just wish you'd told me, that's all,' she said, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for her sudden feeling of utter despondence. 'Well, we did discuss it----' ' No, i meant the River Cafe, that's all,' she interrupted. 'I'll never have time to change and i can't go looking like this.' The sleeves of her black linen jacket were crumpled and she felt damp all over. ' You look lovely. Hot, but lovely. . . . .' he said, reaching over to smooth her hair back from her face. The gesture irritated her further. She pushed his hand away as if she could not bear the additional heat of his touch. 'Perhaps we should just skip the class. I don't know if i can face it,' she said, looking out of the window. There were four lines of traffic on Hammersmith Broadway, all stationary, all pouring their fumes into the streaming air. ' Of course not. You'll enjoy it,' stephen coaxed, ' we both will, you're right, we need to meet other incipient parents.' Suddenly the last thing in the world Alison wanted to do was walk into a room full of people she did not know.

Medically, if he's AS n U are AS also and spiritually he's the will of God for your life, u beta hold unto him because. If u miss it maritally, u will also miss heaven. So, WATCH WELL oh

Ohibenemma: Abi O! Covetousness wanted to kill HIM, thank God for His intervention.
Did you read 'Magdalene' before the nairaland tsunami? I'll be reposting it soon.

No, but am waiting sha. For Mary Magdalene

He smiled at her and took her hand. It was a public gesture of love that only someone who was genuinely unselfconscious could make, and it set off another surge of affection in her body. In their single days, she thought, slightly wistfully, he had often come to meet her from work, or even in the lunch-hour, grabbing her hand, whisking her into a cab, racing to one or other of their flats to make love. Since they had been married, they didn't do that any more. It wasn't marriage, Alison reminded herself quickly, it was the fact that they now lived in the suburbs. You couldn't just pop back to kew for a quick Bleep, and since she had been pregnant, the mere thought of sex made her feel sick anyway. 'Tube or taxi?' she asked him brightly as they stepped into the busy street. A wet film of sweat broke instantly all over her skin, and her clothes felt suddenly grimy. 'Oh, i think the tube, don't you, at this time? A taxi would take hours,' Stephen replied. 'Yes, but at least we could talk. It's impossible to talk on the tube when it's crowded, and i just can't stand up all the way,' she said, regretting offering him the choice. ' Surely people give up their seat for you,' Stephen said, looking at her belly. ' Well, sometimes, but that's not the point,' she said, impatiently. She didn't want to have a logical discussion about it, she wanted him to stretch his arm in the air and hail down a black cab. ' Ok, we'll get a cab, of course it's the sensible thing to do,' stephen agreed, acknowledging her rising distress. I don't give a damn about the sense of it, she suddenly wanted to scream at him, I'm eight months' pregnant. I want to sit down. The taxi was an old one, with no air conditioning. The interior smelt of years of cigarette smoke. Alison pulled down a window. The traffic was moving slowly, as if the hot air were glue. She could feel the underwire of her bra cutting into her ribcgae and the backs of her legs sticking to the seat. 'So, what's going to happen at this class of yours?' Stephen asked her, wafting his copy of the Evening Standard backwards and forwards like a fan beside her face. She smiled, grateful for the movement of air. That evening they were attending the first of a series of ante-natal classes she had read about on a notice in the doctor's surgery. ' I don't really know,' she said, they'll probably explain about the stages of labour, or something.' ' But we know all about that,' he said, since they had both read just about that,' he said, since they had both read just abov every book on conception, pregnancy and birth available. 'Yes, but we're not going to lear, we're going in order to meet people,' she told him, adding, gently amused, it's what you do when you have a child. ' Oh, is it?' Stephen sounded vaguely reassured by this information. She smiled to herself. Stephen liked rules, even when it came to something as unpredictable as the process of making friends. They knew virtually no-one with children and they were each so busy at work, there hadn't been any opportunity to meet people who lived in the area. Sometimes she wondered why they had ever bothered to move there. It had been much more convenient living right near to her newspaper's offices and stephen's hospital, but it had all been part of plan: Stage one: find a property in a leafy suburb with a garden for future children to play in. They had finally settled on an Edwardian house in one of the avenues that led away from the royal Botanic Gardens at Kew. It needed redecorating throughout, and Alison had enjoyed that bit, even featuring her new kitchen on the interiors pages of the lifestyle section she edited in the newspaper.