In Beautiful Dreams

[ladyfiaran22]

When I haven't been working on my papers or coursework the last few weeks, I've been working on this. It's a parallel story to My Favorite Things about Olga and Ian's relationship, it was inspired by my guilty pleasure reading, romance novels on my Kindle.  I wanted to write something similar as a way to get my mind of the papers and reading big-ass books on the Civil War for my final project, something light-hearted and fun. It takes place at the same time Jack and Tatiana are in the states for their honeymoon and mission. Feedback is welcome.

Chapter 1

Ian got in the driver's side of the car and turned on the engine. "I just got my bike back from the mechanic's, I hope the weather holds out so I can do some riding", he said.

"What riding?", asked Alexei.

"I have a motorbike and I go riding with my little group, the Kingfishers. It's a group of my mates who served with me in India, we meet up and ride out into the country for a reunion once a year. Last year we went to the Peak District", Ian replied.

"Wow, awesome!", Alexei exclaimed.

"And there's a good chance you can break all your bones, Ian", teased Skye.

"I could get injured in a car accident, Mamucia. And motorbikes are safe if you wear your helmet and obey the speed limit", he said.

Olga just smiled at their banter. Her face suddenly grew warm at the idea of Ian riding a motorbike, remembering the time they had visited the Stavka at Mogilev and one of the officers had ridden his motorcycle. The officer was so proud of his bike and cut a dashing figure in his duster and boots, much to their delight. She wondered if Ian would be as dashing on his motorcycle as she willed herself not to blush.

Ian felt vaguely restless and irritated at having to drive the car, wanting to get back on his Triumph and meet his friends. He wondered if Olga would want to ride with him since Skye refused and other women he'd dated were terrified of the bike, hoping he wouldn't be disappointed.

"Ian, what's it like to ride a motorbike?", asked Alexei.

"Freedom, open air. But you're too young, you have to be at least sixteen to ride a motorbike and get your license. I learned to ride in India since the roads aren't very good and cars are impractical unless one is a rich bloke with a driver. And they're not dangerous, if you obey the rules", said Ian.

"I have to ask Mama and Papa, since I'm not sick anymore", said Alexei.

They arrived back at the house and Ian parked the Morris outside the garage next to a large object with a black tarpaulin on top. "That's my baby, my bike. I keep her under wraps so she doesn't get dusty", he said.

Olga looked at the tarp and could make out the shape of the motorcycle. "I suppose that's sensible, but odd", she mused aloud.

"Do you want to see, Olivia?", he asked.

Olga nodded and watched as Ian carefully took off the tarp to reveal a handsome shiny blue Triumph motorcycle which shined from a recent waxing. "It's beautiful!", she gasped.


"Thank you, she's my baby. I bought her two years ago, I bought her brand new from the lot. My previous one was used. And this I had customized", he said, pointing to the Macedonian star and the bright blue Kingfisher on the gas tank.

"That's for your club?", she asked.

"Yes, Kingfishers are a common bird in India, where we all met. We're not like those barmy gangs you seen in the states that bother people and frighten folks, we take trips to national parks or other areas in Britain. Let me show you something", he said.

Ian reached atop a shelf and took down a shiny dark red helmet and a pair of wraparound shades. "Try them on, I got these for Skye but she refuses to get on my bike", he said

Olga looked over at the helmet and saw that it had a large hole on the bottom. Ian helped her to put it on and adjust at the straps, followed by the sunglasses. "Perfect fit, Olivia", he said approvingly.

"Really, I suppose one can get used to it", she said, taking off the helmet and shades.

"You will, it's not safe to ride without a helmet. The glasses are to protect your eyes from the sun and to prevent dust and you can ride behind me", he said.

Olga suddenly grew very warm and her face turned bright red as she looked closely at the motorcycle. "Behind you?", she squeaked.

"Yes, just hold on tight", he said.

"To what?", she whispered.

"Me", he replied simply.

Olga giggled nervously and didn't realize she could turn even redder but she did. The idea of sitting behind Ian and holding him while riding the motorcycle made butterflies dance a polka in her stomach and her heart race, her cheeks bright pink. "So that's a yes, then? Other girls were terrified of the bike, which is why I haven't had a girlfriend", he said.

"Are they daft?", she asked in disbelief.

"They're scared of an accident, plus bikers are seen as barmy folks. If the weather is decent, I'll take you out for a ride tomorrow", he said.

"I hope so", she replied as the blush still remained on her cheeks.

Ian just laughed and gave her a wink as he took back into the house. Alexei had turned on the TV and was watching the Manchester United game against Burnley, a rerun from earlier in the season. He was sprawled out on the couch with his spindly limbs spread out as he watched the screen. "You ought to ask Juan to take you to Old Trafford, watching football on the telly isn't as good", said Ian.

"All right. So should I support United or City?", he asked.

"United, City are rubbish", said Ian.

"I'm making chicken curry for supper, do you want it hot?", asked Skye from the kitchen.

"Yes," said Ian.

"Do you need help?", asked Olga.

"Sure, you can help me", said Skye.

Ian settled in to watch the game while Olga went to the kitchen. Skye wore an apron tied around her slim waist and a white t-shirt and jeans, her blond hair in a braid pinned up under a kerchief. "Let me put up your hair, so it doesn't get in the food", she declared.

Skye pinned up Olga's hair and had her wash her hands. "I put a lot of vegetables along with chicken to add nutrients and soak up extra salt and spices. I deboned the chicken earlier and marinated in spices before putting it in the fridge", she said.

Olga watched as Skye removed a red plastic bowl from the fridge and opened the lid to place the chicken in the pot. "It gives the chicken more taste that way", she explained.

Skye showed her a wooden cutting board and a knife and pointed to the carrots, celery and onions. "Cut the tops off the carrots and celery and dice the onion into cubes, I put the onions in cold water so they don't make you cry", she explained.

Olga took a deep breath and gingerly held up the knife. She carefully cut the carrots and celery before taking a moment to figure out how to cut up the onion. She frowned and mentally calculated how to cut it up in chunks, then nodded. Olga cut the onion in half and then in quarters as she sliced the quarters lengthwise then across, this way producing chunks of onion of about the same cubed size. "Brilliant job, Olivia", said Skye approvingly.

"I just figured it would be the most efficient way, cut something into smaller parts and work from there", she replied.

Olga put all the vegetables in the pot and watched as Skye took out a large metal box. She opened the lid to reveal seven small bowls of dried leaves, spices and stems. "This is a spice box, Ian got it at the Indian market. The one in the middle is cloves and cinnamon, some cardamom pods. Think of it as a painter's palate", she said.



Olga was fascinated as Skye took one of the little boxes of an orange-yellow powder and took off the lid. "This is turmeric which makes food yellow, it's mild. The red one is chili powder, then going clockwise its garam masala, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, coriander and black pepper. And the red dried ones are chilies. Do you want it spicy?", asked Skye.

"I suppose, I did like the curry from the lunch takeout but I thought Indian food was spicier", replied Olga.

"Good, Ian and I like it spicy but many restaurants tone down the spices since many Brits don't like it hot. I have more of the spices in bottles, but this is more convenient", said Skye.

Olga watched as Skye used a teaspoon to carefully add a mix of spices into the pot, along with two chilies. "I add some oil and cook until the chicken is brown, then I add water and cook it like a stew. An hour before supper I make the rice", said the blond girl.

"In that horrid house, the cook showed us how to make bread rolls. I'm afraid that's the extent of my cooking skills", said Olga apologetically.

"You'll learn, the way through a man's heart is through his stomach", teased Skye.

Olga blushed. "I know Ian likes you, Olivia Parker. I'm glad, most girls aren't interested in him. They freak out when they find out he's a Hindu and they think being a professor is dull. You don't think he's odd or crazy and you're actually interested in him and his work", said Skye.

"Ian is a fascinating man, so very intelligent. It's wonderful to be able to talk about history and jazz and things, not men who are terrified of speaking with a Grand Duchess", said Olga as her blue eyes turned bright with passion.

"Then I give you my blessing, Olivia Parker. Even to go riding on that bloody motorbike", said Skye with a laugh.

[Tim]

Olga's first time on a motorcycle.  Of course, they didn't exist in her original time.

[ladyfiaran22]

Thanks for the feedback, here's another update. Unfortunately while I was typing up the next chapter of Peaceful Easy Feeling, it accidentally got erased so I'll try to have that one up later in the week 

Chapter 2

After they added water to the pot to simmer, Olga left the kitchen. Alexei was still sprawled out on the couch watching the game but Ian was gone as she grew worried. "He's in his office, he has to type out the syllabuses for his class. That's the stuff the students have to do", he said, not looking up from the screen.

"Alex, you ought to look at people when you talk to them", chided Olga.

"Sorry, Olenka. Oh, and he left some books in your room if you're interested", he said.

Olga nodded and went upstairs to her room. The door to Ian's study under the stairwell was closed and she could hear rapid typing as the steady click-clack of typewriter keys echoed in the stairwell. She smiled when she entered her room and saw the two books on her nightstand along with a handwritten note:

Mara kamala khilyuim,

I thought you would like to read these, they're both English translations from the originals but in verse rather than prose. If you want, I have them in prose if you can't understand them.

Ian

The first was a paperback translation of Bhavagad Gita with a handsome blue cover. The other was an English translation of the Bibliotheca Historia by Diodorus Siculus, the cover showing the famous mosaic of Alexander the Great from Pompeii. Olga decided to start with Diodorus as she set aside the other book. Before she started to read, Olga carefully took out a Dave Brubeck record from the shelf and placed on the turntable and turned it on before she started to read.

Ian finished typing up the last syllabus and stapled the papers together, wondering if this is how medieval monks felt after copying a manuscript. He arranged the syllabi into a pile on his desk which would later go into his briefcase, sighing as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His fingers were stiff as he reached into his desk and took out a bag of glass marbles, rolling them around in his fingers to ease the stiffness.

Ian was glad that he'd already submitted his lesson plans earlier in the week. His gaze fell upon the diplomas on the opposite his desk, the BA in History from the University of Leeds, his Masters from the same and his Doctorate from the University of Durham. He chuckled at all the hard work involved and his current position as the head of Ancient History at the University of Manchester, the youngest in the university's history. Next to the degrees were his graduation photos from Durham, his black gown adorned with gold cords and cape given to all Doctors of Letters. Flanking him were his parents and Skye as he flashed a V for Victory sign and grinned ear to ear.

Ian felt his fingers weren't as stiff so he put the marbles back and opened another drawer. He took out a bottle of Talisker and a tumbler from another drawer and poured himself a glass before putting back the bottle. The amber color of the whisky shone in the light of the office in an attractive mellow golden brown color as he swirled it around the glass before taking a sip.

Ian poured himself another drink and got up from his desk before leaving the office. The scent of chicken curry from the kitchen made his mouth water as he went upstairs. He paused in front of Olga's room and was pleased to see her reading the Diodorus book, Brubeck on the record player. Her blond hair was coming loose from her braid and wispy curls framed her face as she idly pushed them away and continued reading. "This is very good, I wasn't familiar with Diodorus and I was concerned about reading verse but no worries", she said.

"Good, Diodorus is one of the more accessible historians of the ancient world", he said. His gaze fell to her bare feet and her pale pink toenails as his mouth suddenly went dry, taking a hasty sip of whisky. "If it's not a bother, would you like some whisky? It's Talisker from the island of Skye", he asked.

"All right, I don't want to give myself eyestrain", she replied as she set down the book and inserted a bookmark.

Ian was disappointed when Olga put on pink fuzzy slippers, vowing he would get rid of the ugly dust collectors. "It's in my office, you can always check out my library", he said.

Olga followed him into the office and a little thrill went through her when she saw they were alone. She looked at the books on his shelves and saw that many were on ancient history, India, and medieval England, but no novels or modern paperbacks. "I don't like much fiction, Skye is the fiction reader in the family", he said.

Ian took out a bottle of whisky and another tumbler, pouring the amber liquid into the glass and refilling his own. "This is Talisker, from Skye up in Scotland. This I drink straight, I use Famous Grouse for mixing cocktails", he said, handing her a glass.

Olga felt a tiny shiver go through her when she accepted the glass and their fingers briefly touched. She looked down at the amber liquid and took a tiny sip. "It tastes smoky", she said dubiously.

"I'm sorry, you're supposed to take a bigger sip and hold it in for a few seconds. Just try it", he said.

Olga nodded and took a larger sip, letting the whisky sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing it. "It tastes different, but not bad. I can still taste the smoke", she said.

"That's why I don't smoke, it destroys your senses of taste and smell. Which is why I like Scotch, it has more flavor than Irish whiskey" he said.

"I suppose it takes on the characteristics of where it's made, like if the grain was grown near the sea it would have a salty taste", she said.

"Exactly, Talisker's grain is grown in an area with a lot of heather, so it would take on a floral taste in addition to the grains roasted using peat. Our parents went to Skye for their honeymoon and liked it so much they gave us Scottish names", he said.

"I thought you were from Yorkshire", she teased.

"I am, the Yorkshire branch of the Sutherlands. The other half is the Scottish branch up in the Highlands, they got the earldom. The Yorkshire branch is a barony, our uncle has got it with the House of Lords seat and all. I don't want the trouble, I don't want t'go down t'London to deal with the wankers", he said.

"Your accent is lovely", said Olga.

Ian just laughed. "After a drink my accent comes out, I speak the Queen's English whilst lecturing at uni but at home I speak Yorkshire", he said.

"Our English tutor Mr. Gibbes was from Yorkshire, but he spoke very proper English. I rather like your accent, it's different", said Olga as she took another sip of whisky.

"Our accent is pleasant, the Mancs and Scousers have got terrible accents. Not posh people, but the locals. The Beatles at least have Scouse accents one can understand, otherwise it's hard on the ears", said Ian.

Olga nodded in understanding. Her attention was drawn to the framed diplomas on the walls and the photos. "Those are my degrees, my BA, my Masters, and my Doctorate. The first two I got at the University of Leeds and the Doctorate is from Durham", he said.

Ian set down the drink and climbed a stepladder to get the framed diplomas. Olga could see the flex of his back muscles underneath his t-shirt and an odd fluttery feeling formed in her belly at the sight. "I'll show you, BA means Bachelor of Arts and MA is Masters", he explained.

Olga carefully set down her drink and looked down at the framed diplomas. Both were from the University of Leeds and said he had both a BA and an MA in History, and graduated Magna Cum Laude. "This is my Doctorate, a Doctor of Letters is for historians and writers", he explained.

"So you're a doctor. But not a medical one", she said.

"I'm sort of a doctor, but not a medical one. It allows me to put Doctor in front and PhD in the back, it means I'm a very smart wanker", he joked.

Olga burst into laughter. Ian was surprised at how her face transformed, the heavy mantle of seriousness which she never let go of now transformed into delighted amusement. Her cheeks were pink and her blue eyes sparkled and her pink lips turned up in a smile as he suddenly felt his heart skip a beat. "That's a funny word, wanker. But you are very smart, even if you are a wanker", she giggled.

"I'm being silly, wanker is a rude word. It means an annoying person, us Brits use that word a lot", he said apologetically.

"All right, but don't call yourself that. And don't say it in front of Alex", she teased.

Ian wondered if the whisky had made both of them silly. He put the bottle away and finished the last of his drink. "I'm hoping the weather is good tomorrow, so I can take you out on my bike", he said.

"What do I wear, trousers?", she asked.

"Some ladies wear jeans, some wear short skirts with tights underneath. I would say simple jeans and a t-shirt and boots. You can borrow one of my leather jackets, it might be long in the back but I can have one tailored for you if you want. I bought Skye a pair of motorcycle boots but she wouldn't wear them, you're about the same size", he said.

Olga finished her drink and the whisky made his words sound more intense, more than just a description of clothes. She pretended to look through his bookshelves as a distraction, the idea of riding behind Ian on his motorcycle making her feel very warm and her nerves dance. "Just hold on tight and don't let go", he murmured.

[Tim]

Ian, your dating history right there. 

Of course, this is not something he can just tell anyone.

[ladyfiaran22]

This is where they go: Morecambe


Chapter 3

"I can't wait until I'm sixteen and can learn how to drive", grumbled Alexei.

"You must be patient, Alex", Olga chided.

"I'm tired of being patient, Olenka. Tessa is with Jack in the states and you're going to be riding with Ian on his motorbike. At least Pierre is taking us to the cinema, but with Mama and Papa. I don't want to go Mashka and Nastya with Skye, they're going shopping", he said in mock-horror.

"Alex, remember to use their English names. And when you're old enough, you can go on adventures and do all sorts of things. Perhaps when you go to school", said Olga.

Olga looked at her reflection in the mirror. She wore jeans and a plain white t-shirt with black motorcycle boots, the black leather reaching to just below her knees. At first she was surprised how tight the jeans were compared to her usual skirts and trousers but she had to admit it was comfortable, the boots a perfect fit. Her blond hair had been braided and pinned atop her head in a style resembling a traditional Slavic braid, held in place by a pink ribbon holding the knot closed atop her head.

Alexei followed Olga downstairs and went across the street to the Pierre's house with the rest of the family. Olga watched and made sure he went inside from the garage. "Have your neighbors said anything?", she asked.

"No, they think you're the Parker family and you're from down t'south, you're staying here until you find your own place. Us Northerners may be chatty, but we're also English and mind our own business", Ian chuckled.

Olga nodded and tried not to focus on Ian. He wore black leather trousers which hugged his slim hips and clung to his legs, topped off by a white t-shirt that showed his slightly muscled arms. Black leather motorcycle boots clung to his legs and the whole outfit fit him perfectly. "Jeans are all right, but leathers are better since they offer more protection. If you like, I could take you to buy some if you like the ride", he said.

Ian handed her the helmet and glasses along with a set of women's leather gloves. "For gripping, it's better than bare hands", he explained.

Olga put on the helmet and shades and watched as Ian put on a padded leather jacket which had a stitched Kingfisher on the back, the bird with its wings extended in brilliant blue and orange which contrasted with her own plaid black leather jacket. His helmet was a deep royal blue with a White Rose of Yorkshire on one side and a white Polish eagle on the other, the Jablonski coat of arms covering the top. "You can get a design on your helmet if you want, but not a Romanov eagle", he said.

Olga nodded in understanding. "Wait, how do you start the bike?", she asked.

Ian just grinned. He carefully took the tarp off the bike and folded it neatly, wheeling the bike out to the driveway. "Get behind me", he said.

Olga took a deep breath and sat behind him on the motorbike, her arms going around his waist. She saw that he kicked a pedal and then heard a rumbling sound as the engine gradually came to life. The unexpected sound made her yelp but she held on tightly to Ian as he rode away from the house.

Olga was tense at first but gradually relaxed when she aw they were doing the speed limit in town. Ian rode towards the motorway and carefully made his way towards the ramp, looking towards oncoming traffic. "Relax, and don't let go", he said.

Olga realized what he meant when Ian saw an opening and darted into the motorway. Her heart leaped into her throat in shock and fright but after a few minutes her heartbeat went back to normal and she relaxed slightly. Ian made sure to keep the bike at a consistent speed in the center lane as they rode on the motorway, only a few other cars on the road since it was 10 on a Tuesday morning. Olga relaxed a bit and more and lifted her gaze from the road, seeing the trees and bushes pass by on the side of the road. A blue sign on the side of the motorway said it was 106 kilometers to Morecambe as she wondered if they were going north or south.

Olga wasn't sure if she should be relieved or disappointed when they stopped at Morecambe. Ian maneuvered the bike towards a car park and stopped in front of a fence, getting off the bike. Olga watched as he reached inside the saddlebag and took out a chain with a lock, using it to secure the bike tied by the lock. He extended his hand to help her get down and removed his helmet, shaking his head. The watery northern English sunlight glinted on his sunglasses and on his blond hair as Olga hastily took off hers. "I'll show you how to secure the helmets, it's just to make sure", he said.

Ian hung their helmet from the handlebars and then secured them with a leather strap held together by a small lock. "Even if they try to steal them, the helmets wouldn't fit. Plus mine is quite distinctive. How did you like it?", he asked.

"I was nervous at first, but I grew to like it. I still have butterflies", she laughed.

Ian gave her a crooked grin. "Butterflies where?", he teased.

Olga blushed. "Uh, in m stomach", she mumbled.

"I figured as much. That's a good thing, it means you're human. I feel the same way when I'm starting the first class of the semester, since each class I've got new students. If I didn't get butterflies, then I've become jaded and ought to quit teaching", he said.

Olga nodded. "Take down your hair, Olivia. You aren't married", he teased.

Olga just laughed as she unbound her braid. A long blond braid fell nearly to her waist and swayed softly on the sea breeze. "I never thought my hair would ever be this long again", she said.

"You have lovely hair, it's just a shade darker than mine. Let's get some lunch and I'll show you around the promenade", said Ian.

Ian had parked near Morecambe Bay and the breeze from the Irish sea gave the air a tangy scent. The wooden promenade was half-full of families, retirees and tourists from the inland mill towns of Lancashire. The promenade was lined with booths selling local seafood, candy floss, sweets and things made with chips, the vendors occasionally shooing away hungry seagulls. Pop music played from transistor radios carried about by teenagers, the teens immediately turning up the volume when From Me to You by the Beatles played.

www.bing.com/videos/search?q=the+beatles+from+me+to+you&docid=608043274366878431&mid=33F9AAEC3AFAC87209AA33F9AAEC3AFAC87209AA&view=detail&FORM=VRAASM&ru=%2Fvideos%2Fsearch%3Fq%3Dfrom%2Bme%2Bto%2Byou%2Bbeatles%26FORM%3DHDRSC3
The temporary effect was to render the Beatles louder than the waves on the beach and the cawing seagulls, just a shade softer than one of their concerts. "The whole of England has gone made for the Scouse gits", said Ian ruefully.

"I don't really like them, too noisy and they look silly. I hope all pop music isn't like this", said Olga.

"No, some is all right. I really like Roy Orbison, he's a pop singer from Texas, an American. He does lovely operatic ballads and has at least a three-octave range like an opera singer. I saw him perform in Blackpool last summer, he's an odd-looking bloke with dark glasses but he can sing. I'll play some of his albums for you", he said.

Ian stopped at a stall which sold local shellfish on paper plates. "You ought to try the local cockles and whelks, mussels too. It's what Morecambe is famous for", he said.

"These are like snails, I remember", said Olga.

"Yes, and you eat them the same way. But they taste better", he laughed.

Ian bought them each a plate of cockles, whelks and mussels accompanied by vinegar and pepper along with two bottles of Coke. They sat down on a bench and Ian took out a Swiss army knife from his jacket pocket, flicking it open to reveal a bottle opener. "Best device in the world", he said.

Olga used the tiny wooden fork to take a cockle from its shell and added a bit of the vinegar. "It's very good, like escargot but not as fancy", she said.

Ian nodded as he removed a whelk from its shell. "I grew up in a seaside town, so there's cockles and whelk sellers on the promenade. I believe Yorkshire ones are the best but Lancashire ones are just as good", he chuckled.

"Are you still going on about the Wars of the Roses, Ian?", she teased.

"Yes, I'm proud of being from Yorkshire. I may live on the wrong side of t'Pennines, but I'll always be proud to be from Yorkshire", he laughed.

"I supposes, but I've never been to Yorkshire. Mama has but that was a long time ago", said Olga.

"Then I'll take you, Olivia Parker. The moors are their best in autumn when the heather is in bloom, all the hills are covered in pink and purple. When the sun is out and the sky is blue, it's really smashing", he murmured.

Olga took a hasty sip of her Coke to hide her blush since his eyes had turned a vivid green-gold. "It's a Sutherland thing, we all have green eyes with gold. Skye has hazel eyes because of Mum, but hers have the golden highlights", he explained.

"Mine are just blue, Tessa has gray eyes but all of us have blue eyes. Yours are interesting", she said.

Ian laughed. "I never had anyone say I had interesting eyes, then again that isn't something blokes get complements on", he teased.

"Then what do men get compliments on?", she asked with a grin.

"Hmm, the size of our muscles, how much money we make, if we're not completely dirty", replied Ian with a wink. He set down his plate and pulled back the sleeves of his jacket to flex the muscle as Olga laughed. "I'm not built as some blokes but I'm not bad. I also don't smoke or eat fried things", he replied as she nodded.

Ian finished his lunch and tossed the plate into a nearby garbage can. "Olivia, what is your birthday?", he asked.

Olga tried to remember what her birthday would be in the modern calendar. "Let me see, November 15, I believe", she replied.

"You're a Scorpio, then. What do you know of astrology?", he asked.

"The signs with the animals and people, but we never did that", she replied.

"It's quite popular in England and there's different types. I'm referring to the Western system. People born in late October to late November are Scorpios", he explained.

"I see. I'm not sure if being a Scorpion is a good thing", she said dubiously.

"It's not all like that, Scorpios can be either very good or very bad. They are a passionate bunch and often charismatic and magnetic, intelligent and loyal. Unfortunately, they can be moody and have a jealous streak", said Ian.

"Interesting. And what is your sign?", she asked.

"I'm a Pisces since I was born in March, people born in late February to late March are Pisceans. The symbol is two fish joined together by a string going in opposite directions. Us Pisceans are sensitive, dreamy, creative and spiritual, but also lazy and impractical and sensitive", he replied.

"Well, you have written books which means you must be creative. And you're spiritual since you converted to Hinduism. But you are not lazy at all, you have all those degrees", she protested.

"You ought to ask Skye, I'm lazy when it comes to the washing up", he laughed.

"Most men are like that", she reminded him.

"True, but Skye says I ought to learn to at least do laundry. And I tell she ought to grade my papers", he joked.

Ian offered her his hand and helped her up from the bench. The sun at midday was warmer than this morning and if they were lucky it would be a few degrees warmer than before dusk. Clouds moved lazily across the sky and seagulls grabbed stray chips and candy from near the garbage cans while people walked on the promenade. Only a handful of people were on the muddy brown sand, easily distinguished by their hip-length rubber boots and oilcloth coats. An even smaller handful were in the dull gray water, gunmetal blue-gray salt water topped with off-white foam which pounded the muddy sand relentlessly. "Crazy buggers, supposedly cold water is good for you but I'm not sure", said Ian.

"That water looks dirty as well, and that beach is mud. At least Blackpool had a sandy beach, and the beaches in France were divine", she sighed.

"I know, but even better are the beaches in Greece, or better yet, in Goa. The Greek islands have lovely beaches and many still have ancient monuments, Santorini is the best but Rhodes is good. And Goa in India, there's the native Indian culture with the Portuguese and British laid on top, plus the beaches aren't crowded. Just local families and the occasional beatnik American. I'll take you one day, Olivia", he vowed.

"Papa went to India but he didn't like it, too hot and too odd", said Olga.

"I know, India is the sort of place where one needs an open mind to enjoy it. If one goes to India thinking it to be like England, one is going to be disappointed. That goes for anywhere, even America. I've never been there, but that's what Jack said", said Ian.

"I hope they're enjoying their honeymoon", said Olga.

"I suppose, then again I'm not sure what America is like. I've been to Greece, Turkey, the Levant, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India but never America", he said with a rueful chuckled.

The couple spent the rest of the afternoon on the promenade watching the sea and the people. Olga had blushed at first when Ian held her hand and then put an arm around her waist but found she liked it, especially when she saw the other couples did the same. They stopped to watch as a middle-aged woman walking a Scottish terrier turned up the volume on a transistor radio as it played big band jazz, the dog barking excitedly and jumping in the air. "Aye, the lass likes the music. My hubby and I used to go dancing at the pally when he came back from the war", she said in a broad Lancashire drawl.

"I don't go out dancing, I'm awkward at it", said Ian.

"You ought to take your missus out dancing, all ladies love dancing", she admonished.

"Perhaps one day, madam", replied Ian.

"You're not a bad dancer at all", Olga chided.

"I was dancing on pure adrenalin at the Tower Ballroom, then again I prefer listening to music instead of dancing", replied Ian.

They decided to head back when the temperature began to drop and high tide started rolling in. Olga felt pleased when she put on the helmet and shades by herself without help, climbing on the back of the motorcycle. A thrill and a shiver of excitement went through her when she wrapped her arms around his waist and he started the engine, the seat vibrating slightly under her. "Hold on tight", he warned.

Olga was more relaxed than on the way up to Morecambe earlier, since she now knew what to expect and was less anxious. There was slightly more traffic going back south to Manchester but Ian kept steady in the center lane as he rode southwards, knowing she clung to him tightly and not wanting to frighten her.

Olga was disappointed when Ian exited the motorway and cruised slowly onto their street in Didsbury. He turned onto the driveway and shut off the engine before opening the garage door as Olga helped him wheel it inside. She took off her helmet and shook her hair as the braid came loose from the knot, watching as Ian carefully placed the tarp back on the bike. When he finished he took their helmets and sunglasses to put them back on the shelf. Olga felt a warm sensation spread in her belly when she saw how Ian's muscles stretched when he placed the items back on the shelf, her cheeks very pink.

Ian turned around and had a little grin on his face, his green eyes full of amusement. "Did you like the show there, mara kamala?", he murmured. He then put an arm around her waist and kissed her lips, the pressure of his lips causing hers to part. Olga moaned softly into the kiss and a thrill went straight through her when his tongue brushed against hers, a soft whimper escaping her lips when Ian broke the kiss. "I've wanted to that since this morning, mara kamala", he whispered huskily.

[Tim]

Olga finds the Beatles strange.  Wonder what she would make of Lady Gaga!

Glad that she enjoyed her first motorcycle ride.

[ladyfiaran22]

Chapter 4

Olga tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep without her sister in the adjacent bed. With a growl of frustration she tossed back the covers and sat up in bed and shook her head as the long blond braid swayed around her body. Unlike the last time she was alone at night in the room, she knew it was permanent since Tatiana was living with Jack from now on.

Olga giggled nervously when she thought back to the kiss with Ian that afternoon. Unlike the previous times they'd kissed, it wasn't a chaste little kiss in public. Rather, it was far more passionate and it left her knees weak and her belly tingling as though she had gone down the snow mountain at Tsarkoe Selo as a little girl, the same fluttery, heart-stopping feeling.

She decided to get a glass of milk and put on a robe as she left the room. Olga was careful not to make any noise as she carefully walked down the stairs, holding onto the rail. She saw a thin silver of light under the door of Ian's office and gave the door a soft knock. To her surprise she heard the chair scrape against the floor and footsteps headed towards the door as it opened. "Couldn't sleep either, Olivia?", he teased.

"I was going to get a glass of milk but I saw the light and thought someone left the light on", she said.

"Come in, when I can't sleep I go to my office to grade papers or to read. Since the term hasn't started, I decided to read", he said.

Olga followed him into the office and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. Ian's desk had an open book on top and a silver bookmark in between the pages which glinted in the office light. Ian wore blue pajama bottoms but instead of a matching top, he wore a black velvet smoking jacket with maroon satin trim. The jacket gave him a rakish look which seemed perfect for his office with its heavy wooden furniture and book-lined shelves.

"I find it more comfortable than a regular pajama top, and they're no longer in style so I bought a bunch at the shop. Did you finish Diodorus?", he asked.

"Not yet, I had to put it down or else I would have dropped it on the floor since my eyes were tired. I ought to finish it by the end of the week", she replied.

"Good. Did you feel it too?", he asked suddenly.

Olga's breath hitched in her throat and her cheeks grew pink as she could only nod. "You liked it. You're my girlfriend but until today I didn't realize how damn sexy you are. I never had a girl ride on my bike before, they were scared of it. But not you, Olga Nicholaevna. You're fearless", he murmured.

"No, I'm not. I figured that if your motorbike is so important to you, then I ought to try it", she protested.

"But that makes you brave, mara kamala. After all that happened with you and your family, to accept what happened and your new life, and to seize the opportunity, that takes bravery. You are brave, Olivia", he said.

Ian suddenly gave her a grin, green eyes full of amusement. "What sorts of books do you see?", he asked.

"Um, history books, all hardcover with leather binding. Except this red one", she said. Indeed, the book with its red leather binding and gold letters on the spine stood out amongst the brown, green and black leather volumes.

"Take it out", he whispered softly.

Olga knew this was an order in spite of his soft words as she reached out and carefully slid the book off the shelf. The leather was still soft and the gold letters shone in the light of the office as she felt the warm leather in her hands. "Let's go to my room with the book", he said.

Olga's heart leaped into her throat and her hands shook. Ian came over and put his arms around her, holding her from behind and kissing the top of her head. "You smell of roses, white ones", he whispered.

"I do have that vase of white roses in my room, Sutherland white roses. And Mama always made sure we had our perfumes by Coty, mine was rose", she said with a nervous giggle.

"You must secretly be a Yorkshire girl, Olga Nicholaevna. Just follow me", he said softly.

Olga's heart beat rapidly and her legs felt like rubber as she followed Ian out of his office. She clutched tightly onto the book and followed him upstairs as she made sure the stairs didn't squeak and held onto the railing. Ian led her into his room and closed the door before turning on the light. "Relax", he said.

Olga tried to calm her racing heart s she looked about the room. The room was done in shades of dark brown and green with heavy oak wood furniture. The room was dominated by a dark green velvet canopy, the curtains pulled back and tied to the posts. "My grandparents had a similar bed back at their estate in Poland, I've always wanted one. Wait a moment", he said.

Olga watched as Ian opened a drawer of the nightstand and took out a bright orange box with a red dragon on the lid, a silver lighter and a green glass bowl. He opened the box and took out several dark red cones and put them in the bowl, then flipped open the lighter to ignite one of the cones. Soon a rich, amber-like scent filled the air which made her feel more calm as she sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet curled up on the carpet.

Ian put the lighter away and came over to sit down on the side of the bed next to her. "It's Dragon's Blood incense, I have different kinds and each one is good for a certain purpose", he said.

They were quiet for a moment as the scent of Dragon's Blood filled the room. Ian put an arm around her waist and his lips nuzzled her cheek. "Open the book", he whispered.

Olga opened the book as her fingers remained steady. She frowned when she saw the Hindi script, the paper heavy and glossy under her fingertips. The only sound in the room was her carefully turning the pages as she grew more confused, the pages just having Hindi script and no pictures.

After several minutes, Olga was about to close the book when she stopped. The page showed a brilliantly colored painting of a handsome, princely man and his beautiful consort kissing, the woman in a gorgeous sari of crimson silk with gold thread. "It's beautiful", she murmured.

"I know, mara kamala. Turn the page", he said.

Olga did as he said and a blush formed on her cheeks. The next page showed the couple, except that the woman was now topless. Her mouth went dry and a warm feeling grew in her belly as she flipped the page with shaky fingers. Her cheeks grew very warm when the next picture showed the man without a shirt and the woman was now naked. "Ian, what is this?", she asked, her calm voice belying her nervousness. 

"It's a Kama Sutra, a real one from India. It's a book on love, both emotional and physical. You're a brave girl, Olga Nicholaevna", he said.

"But why, this is something for married people. Have you shown this to anyone?", she asked in a accusing tone.

"No, Olivia. Only Skye knows I have one and she's my sister. The times I have been on dates, they never came close to seeing my book", he said.

"I don't know if I ought to be jealous or not", she muttered.

Ian just laughed. "Don't be, Skye set me up on dates with her coworkers at the school where she's a nurse. None of them has progressed from the first date, they're not interested in dating a university professor and they're upset when I tell them I'm a Hindu. So you're the first woman who's seen this", he said.

"Are those women daft? You're an intelligent, fascinating man", she exclaimed.

"Glad that you think so highly of me, mara kamala. Turn the page", he said.

Olga turned the page and the color left her face. The picture now showed that the man was naked as well, the woman stroking his penis. "Ah, uh, what is this?", she stammered.

"Foreplay, relax. How do you feel?", he asked.

"I don't know, jittery, shocked. I mean, I did see men at the hospital but that was in a medical setting. This is different", she said with a weak chuckle.

"Yes, that was your job. Let me show you", he whispered huskily....



The next chapter contains adult content, if you don't want to read it I can skip ahead to the following chapter.

[Tim]

Post the chapter.  Just stick a warning at the top of it.

[ladyfiaran22]

This chapter contains adult content

Chapter 5

This time Olga was prepared when Ian leaned over and kissed her. She moaned softly and her lips parted under his as his tongue found hers, his hands resting on her hips. They kissed for a few minutes until Ian broke the kiss, a her blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. "I didn't catch you off guard this time, Olivia", he teased.

Olga just grinned. Ian was pleasantly surprised when she kissed him, her lips applying pressure as his lips parted. He reluctantly broke the kiss and chuckled at the disappointed look on her face as he loosened the sash of her robe, carefully sliding down the robe off her shoulders. Underneath the robe she wore a simple cotton nightgown with pink ribbons, a prim Victorian style. However, he could see the swell of her breasts underneath the prim neckline of her nightgown which moved softly with every breath, a pink flush on her cheeks and around her upper chest.

Ian kissed her softly before removing his smoking jacket. Olga blushed when she saw his bare chest, a crooked grin on his face. "I know, I'm not built like Hercules, but I don't think I'm bad at all", he chuckled.

"I've seen others, but this is different", she said quietly.

"The university has a gymnasium and I work out in the mornings, one doesn't need to be out of shape to intellectual", he laughed.

Olga felt bold all of a sudden and pushed the hem of her nightgown out of the way to revel her legs. She felt a thrill of satisfaction go through her when Ian took a hasty breath as he caught a look at her legs, his gaze lingering on her pink toenails. "Don't ever wear those ugly slippers, you have such pretty feet", he murmured.

She raised an eyebrow but before she could say anything, Ian took her into his arms and kissed her. Olga sighed and her heart fluttered when she felt herself pressed against his chest, her hands splayed on his abs as she tentatively ran her fingers along his chest. Ian broke the kiss and groaned, his green eyes turned gold with desire. "Sit on my lap", he ordered.

Olga shivered at the dominant tone of his voice but then followed his command. She was still as Ian reached for the hem of her nightgown and slowly pulled it off. "Skye got you stop wearing those bloody things", he teased when he saw she didn't wear a corset.

"Of course", she retorted with a laugh.

Ian kissed her again and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. "You have pretty little breasts, Olga Nicholaevna", he whispered.

Olga felt a flash of desire go through her when Ian tossed her bra aside and his lips left hers to trail kisses along her jawline and down her throat. She shifted in his lap and a little whimper escaped her lips when Ian gently kissed each of her breasts, her fingers tangled in his hair when he began to suck on her nipples. "Oh yes", she moaned.

Ian chuckled against her breast and held her tightly, hearing her whimper when his pajama bottoms rubbed against her panty-clad bottom. Olga's eyes flew open in shock at the odd sensation as heat grew in her belly and between her legs. "Relax, mara kamala", he murmured.

Ian carefully laid her down on the bed and Olga watched as he slid the pajama bottoms down off his legs, her eyes wide in shock when she saw the bulge in front of his boxers. "Don't be alarmed, Olivia. You've just got me so hot and bothered, but not tonight", he whispered.

Ian joined her on the bed and kissed her again. Olga returned the kiss and ran her fingers through his dark blond hair, her lips parting under his. His lips left hers and planted kisses along her throat and on her breasts. "Relax, Olivia", he murmured.

Ian sat up in bed and his eyes bored into her as he placed a hand on her hip and slowly pulled the panties down her legs. Olga blushed furiously as she lay naked in front of him. "You're so beautiful, Olga Nicholaevna", he whispered.

Olga's heart beat frantically at his words. "You are beautiful, Olga", he repeated.

"Not true, Tatiana and Maria are the beauties. I'm supposed to be the smart one", she protested.

"Nonsense, you are a beautiful and very intelligent woman, mara kamala. Let me show you", he said.

Ian kissed her softly and his lips moved lower down her body as she trembled with need. He planted little kisses on her stomach and thighs and Olga trembled with anticipation and a bit of uncertainty. "Relax, Olivia", he murmured.

Olga groaned when Ian parted her legs and gently brushed his fingers against her heated core. She let out a moan as the touch went through her like a sliver of flame coursing through her system. Her breath came in harsh little pants as Ian continued to toy with her using his fingers, a knot of desire growing hotter in her belly with each second. "Relax and enjoy, Olivia", he said.

The desire in her belly grew into a sense of pleasure as Ian continued to stroke her. Olga watched through hazy blue eyes as Ian kneeled before her spread legs and his fingers gently stroked her, her breath coming in little gasps with every stroke. It seemed as though every little touch of his fingers down there made little flames of desire grow even hotter in her belly, feeling as though she were headed towards some sort of peak. She gasped and moaned softly when it seemed as though pleasure was going to overwhelm her, the knot in her belly growing ever tighter.

"Relax, Olivia. Let it go", he said.

Olga groaned and felt as though she was racing towards a peak as she shut her eyes tightly. Suddenly it all came to a head as she bit her lip to keep from crying out, as ripples of pleasure shot out from her core and her body shuddered. Ian kissed her softly and snuggled against her on the bed. She frowned when she felt his erection strain against her thigh as he groaned. "Ian, are you all right?", she asked.

"I'm fine, Olivia. I'll just toss one off", he whispered.

An idea came to her. "Like the lady in the book, let me help you", she said.

Ian watched as Olga slipped out of his embrace and slid the underwear down his legs. His breath caught in his throat when she gently put her hands on his erection and cautiously began to stroke him. "Olivia", he groaned.

"I rather like the feel, I wanted to make you feel good", she replied.

Ian could only nod as Olga continued to stroke him, every touch of her hands bringing him ever closer to that climax. Olga could hear him groan and feel the tightening of his abs every time she stroked him, an odd sense of pride that she could make him feel like this. "Olivia, watch out", he warned.

Olga was surprised when his eyes shut tight and he muttered several curses. His shaft in her hand squirted a gooey white substance as she gasped, his face flushed and muted curses escaping his lips. "Sorry about that, there's some tissues in the drawer", he said apologetically.

Olga blushed a she got up from the bed and found tissues in the drawer. Ian was still as she cleaned him up. "Uh, there's a bin by the bed", he said.

"I don't think that is the proper place for your seed", she teased.

"I know, but not yet. Just stay here with me, Olga Nicholaevna", he said.

Olga rejoined him on the bed. "Leave your pajamas alone. Tomorrow I have to go to the University to drop off the syllabi in my office. When I get back, I 'll take you to my temple in Leeds. There's no temples here in Manchester, outside of London and Birmingham there's few temples. Since the school term is starting, I like to pray for guidance", he said.

"Uhm, we're naked", she said lamely.

"Religion and sexuality are supposed to be complementary to each other, not at odds", he said.

Olga snuggled up against him. "I want to know more", she whispered.

"You will, Olivia. Good night", he said. 

[Tim]

Yeah they did it right.  Don't want to get Olga pregnant.

[ladyfiaran22]

Chapter 6



Olga fought the urge to look down at her watch as she tried to focus on the book on her lap. Ian had gone to the university to drop off the syllabi and she'd been on pins and needles waiting. "Ohh, you can't wait to see Ian. I don't want to get like this when I have a boyfriend", teased Anastasia.



Olga blushed. "Ian is taking me to Leeds later to see his temple and to meet some of his friends. Why don't you go tease Mashka?", she retorted.



"She's no fun to tease, and Nicole doesn't like it. I can't wait until I get a boyfriend and turn eighteen, so I can do stuff. I still have to go to school for one more year", pouted Anastasia.



"Of course, you need to complete secondary school to attend university. Why don't you pester Alex?", Olga chided.



"He's reading a comic book and I don't want to bother him. Mama and Papa are going to the cinema with Pierre and the girls, they're concerned you don't want to go", said Anastasia.



Olga blushed guiltily. "Tell Mama and Papa I'm sorry, Nastenka. But I love spending time with Ian, it's lovely", she sighed.



Anastasia snickered and her blue eyes danced with mischief. "Oooh, you're in love with Ian", she trilled.



Olga blushed some more. "I am, Nastya. And when you get a boyfriend, I will tease you so much", she retorted.



"I'm sorry, Olenka. But you know, I'm the family shvibik. Since Tanya isn't here, I need someone to tease", she laughed.



"Your sister is right, Natalie. One day you'll realize teasing people isn't nice", chided Skye.



"Because you're older than Olivia, Skye. I don't want to be old and make everyone miserable, I want to be older and listen to the Beatles and Motown and dance", vowed Anastasia.



"But you have to grow up, go to university and get a job. Unless you want to live with your parents", teased Skye.



"No. I want to go to London or New York or Paris or Hollywood. I want to be an actress or a pop singer, something glamorous", she declared.



"Go to school first, Nastenka", said Olga.



Anastasia just stuck out her tongue. Olga immediately sat up straight when she heard Ian's car outside. Her heart beat in anticipation when he opened the door and entered the parlor. "Sorry I was late, the dean wanted to speak about a faculty meeting Friday afternoon for the history department. And how are you doing, Natalie?", he asked.



"I want to ride on a motorbike, and I don't want to be old and boring", she declared.



"I see. Boring people are boring because they're not interested in anything. They don't want to try anything new or different and aren't interested. As long as you keep an open mind, you will never be bored", said Ian.



"I see. So if I'm willing to try new things, I won't be bored. But I have to wait until I go to uni, I won't go to one around here", said Anastasia.



"Then where?", asked Olga.



"London, the continent or maybe the US, wouldn't that be fun to go to uni in the states? California is so beautiful, like in Gidget. I want to surf", she said.



"Perhaps, if you do well in school you can apply. The files for you and Alex have been sent to Barlow secondary school, we had to estimate what your progress would be if you went to a British school. Don't worry, you two had good marks", said Ian.



"As long as I don't have to take a lot of maths, that's boring. I already know French and Russian and some German, I want to take art classes", she said.



"Do you want to speak with your parents, Olivia? I don't want them to think you're neglecting them", said Ian.



"I'm not neglecting them, Ian. But maybe I ought to speak with them", Olga mused aloud.



Ian nodded in agreement. He put an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek before holding her hand and leading her out of the house. "Olivia, would you like some coffee?", asked Maria as she embraced her older sister.



"We're fine, Mashka. Where's Mama and Papa?", she asked.



"They're in the garden with Pierre and the girls", said Maria.



Nicholas and Alexandra were in the back garden, him reading a book and her knitting while Mollie and Nicole chased each other. Pierre was busy checking the flower bed for weeds, his hands in tough leather gloves with a small pile of dandelions at his feet. "Lovely day, isn't it? The bloody weeds grow so fast", he muttered.



"Daddy, you said bloody", chided Nicole.



"I know, weeds hurt the flowers and I don't like them", he teased.



"Olivia, do you want to go to the cinema? I rather like these films, especially the American ones. We're going to see Donovan's Reef", said Nicholas.



"Papa, I'm going with Ian to Leeds", said Olga.



"But why? You just went with him to Morecambe yesterday", exclaimed Alexandra.



"I want to meet his friends and see more of England. And come September I'll be in Liverpool going to university. Perhaps we can all go on one final hols before the term starts", said Olga.



"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Parker. My motorcycle club is going on an outing to the North Moors, their families and partners as well. Would you like to join us, the moors are lovely this time of year. I can reserve more beds at the hostel", said Ian.



"Nicky, the moors are lovely. Remember when we visited England before we got married, and went to Harrogate?", asked Alexandra.



"Yes, I did want to see more of Yorkshire. That is a good idea, Ian. When is your club going?", asked Nicholas.



"On August 27, since our group is mostly teachers we can take off without worrying. The Kingfishers are good lads, we met during our army service in India. Since we're scattered around England, we meet up once a year at a national park", he said.



"I see. Be careful and stay safe", said Alexandra as she hugged her eldest daughter.



"I will, Mama", she said.



Olga felt a thrill go through her when Ian took the tarp off the motorcycle. She put on the helmet and shades, wondering what sort of design she ought to put on the helmet. "When we get to the temple, just follow my lead. It's to be polite", he said.



"But didn't you have a big ceremony when you converted? I did for my Confirmation", said Olga.



"No, I just started going to the temple, read a lot of books and said I was a Hindu. There's no real conversion ceremony, but some temples will do one for a fee. But it's pointless", he said with a shrug.



Olga got behind him on the bike as he activated the kickstart and the bike roared to life. Ian went the speed limit on the street but went in a different direction towards the M64, waiting on the ramp for an opening. Olga felt the familiar thrill go through her when Ian saw an opening on the motorway and the bike quickly darted forward onto the highway.



Olga had her arms around him tightly and felt more at ease than yesterday as Ian deftly handled the bike. She noticed that the sings were different but the road was otherwise the same as she held on tight. Within the hour, they had passed the Leeds city limits as Ian slowed down to a more sedate speed. She was surprised when Ian rode into a suburban council estate on the outskirts of Leeds and parked in front of a plain building which resembled a warehouse. "This is the temple, a lot of Indian immigrants live in the suburbs of Leeds and Bradford. It was an old warehouse bought by a Hindu congregation", he explained.



Olga watched as he locked the bike and wrapped the chain around a pole, then used another chain to lock their helmets to the handlebars. He took her hand and led them towards the temple. Although at first glance it looked like an old warehouse, up close she could see that the massive wooden door was shiny from a wax polishing and carved with depictions of lotus flowers with Shiva sitting on a lotus.



Ian led her inside and Olga's eyes widened in surprise and delight. The contrast between the plain, austere warehouse exterior and the rich, vibrant exterior was stunning. The walls and accents were done in a warm shade of orangish-brown the color of marigolds while the niches in the walls held different statues of Hindu deities. The statues were all made of plaster but painted in vivid colors with gold and silver painted accents which twinkled in the lights.






The rich aroma of incense filled the air and Olga was moved by the temple's beauty, realizing that it reminded her of an Orthodox church. The incense, the colors, the deities brought back memories of church, except for the statues in place of icons and the fewer people. She noticed that Ian and her were the only white people in the temple, the other people all Indians. Olga remembered how in Livadia when her father had met with the Tatar khans and how different they had looked from herself and her family. And how in Tobolsk they had seen Siberian herdsmen, surprised they were Russians in spite of their odd clothes and different looks.

Olga watched as Ian stood in front of a statue of Vishnu, not sure what to make of the deity with his numerous arms like something out of mythology. 
He bowed his head and clasped his hands together, then reached into his blue cloth bag to take out a white rosebud which he placed in front of the statue before prostrating himself in front of the statue. At a statue of Lakshmi he did the same thing and also at a statue of Krishna.


She noticed that the other worshippers did the same thing to the various statues, but not all of them. Some gave gifts of little white packages of biscuits, others flowers while others gave lit sticks of incense, but they all clasped their hands and bowed their heads in front of the statues.

Olga was quiet when they left the temple. "Let's get some lunch, I know a place", he said.

[Tim]

Leave your sister alone, Imp. 

Of course, she's just being the Imp.

[ladyfiaran22]

Chapter 7

Olga was careful to put on her helmet and hold tight as Ian started up the motorcycle. Soon they were back on the M62 heading back towards Manchester, arriving back to Didsbury within an hour. Ian parked the motorcycle in the tiny lot of a pub next another motorcycle which had the Kingfisher symbol on the gas tank. "My friend Basil is meeting us for lunch. He's the head of our club, he's a professor of Egyptian history at my uni", he said.

Ian led her inside the pub, the Crowned Lion, whose namesake sign hung over the door. Inside it was smoky and dim as the bartender looked up and nodded in greeting. "Ian, glad you brought along your new missus", said Basil Huntingdon, a hint of Lancashire drawl in his otherwise Oxbridge accent.

Ian clapped him on the back and let Olga get in the booth first. "You too, Basil. Olivia, this is my friend and club leader Basil Huntingdon. Basil, this is my girlfriend Olivia Parker", he said as they shook hands.

"Glad to meet you, Miss Parker. I'm glad to meet Ian's new missus, he's been single for far too long. It's good you're not scared off by the bike or himself", laughed Basil.

"I consider myself to be brave, and I quite like the motorbike. And Ian is a fascinating man, I quite like looking through his library", said Olga.

"She borrowed my copy of Diodorus and is already halfway finished", said Ian as Olga blushed.

"Clever girl, my wife prefers Herodotus but Diodorus is also good", said Basil.

A waitress came over with their drinks, three whisky and waters. "So Olivia, it's been a long time since you've known Ian and you're finally gotten together?", asked Basil.

"Yes, Ian and I knew each other as children, then our family moved to London for Papa's job. We moved up to Manchester and our neighbors turned out to be the Sutherlands", she chuckled.

"How lovely. I suppose she's prettier than as a little girl", laughed Basil.

Ian chuckled as he squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. "Yes, she was a cute child in pigtails turned into a beautiful woman", he said with a smile.

"Mr. Huntingdon, Ian says you're a professor of ancient Egyptian history", said Olga.

"Please call me Basil, Mr. Huntingdon makes me sound old. Yes, my area of specialization is Ptolemaic Egypt, the pharaonic dynasty founded by Ptolemy", said Basil.

"Alexander's general", she said.

"Yes, and the only one of the empires which lasted for a long while instead of falling into anarchy. I've been to Egypt many times but Cairo is too crowded, I much prefer Alexandria. Ptolemaic Egypt is underrated, all people know is Cleopatra and that film is Hollywood rubbish. Burton can do better", said Basil dismissively.

"I haven't seen it yet, most Hollywood films are rubbish. How's your wife doing?", asked Ian.

"Tabitha is fine, we just got back from Berlin last week. I did a series of lectures at the Pergamonmuseum, that was the good part. Since it's within the eastern part of the city, we had these security guards around us all the time. That ugly wall cuts the city in half and they got armed guards, we weren't allowed to speak with ordinary Germans, even during the Q&A. The guards made sure people only asked about the art and Tabitha had to translate, she's from Germany", said Basil.

"How awful. I've seen that ghastly wall in the papers, people must be frightened", said Olga.

"I suppose since we weren't allowed to speak with anyone. It's more serious for my wife since she's originally from Berlin, she and her sister escaped on the Kinderstransport to England since they're Jewish. She came with me since she speaks German, but she considers herself English", said Basil, showing them a photo from his wallet.

Olga had been expecting a dark-skinned girl with a big nose and wild curly black hair. However, Tabitha was an attractive woman with long straight dark brown hair and warm hazel eyes, which set off her porcelain complexion. "She's very pretty", she said.

"Thanks, we met at uni since we were both in the same Ancient Egypt class, we married our senior year. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to have any children in five years of marriage", said Basil sadly.

"I sorry to hear that", said Olga kindly.

"If we can't have biological children, we'll adopt. I love my nieces and nephews and I'd want to have my own children. But let's see", said Basil.

A waitress handed them paper menus and another round of drinks. "I'd recommend the fisherman's pie, or the ploughman's lunch. I don't eat beef, of course", said Ian.

"Yes, since it's an avatar of Krishna", said Olga.

"Lucky as a regular Englishman, that's not a problem for me. But we don't eat pork since Tabitha is Jewish, we don't otherwise keep kosher", said Basil.

"Ian mentioned something about a trip to the Moors", said Olga.

"Oh, our annual trip. Each year the Kingfishers take a trip to a different national park, last year we went to the Peak District and the year before the Lake District. Perhaps next year we'll go up to Scotland, or perhaps Wales", said Basil.

"Yes, and we go to Scotland each December for the Sutherland family reunion. It's beautiful up there", said Ian.

Olga felt a thrill at the idea of going up to Scotland with Ian's friends, riding behind him on the bike and in a foreign country. "My family wants to go along to the Moors, do your families come along as well?", she asked.

"Depends, none of us have got kids. You mean siblings?", asked Basil.

"And parents, I have three sisters and a brother, but one of my sisters is in the states", said Olga.

"Sure, but they have to pay for their own bunks. We're staying at a lodge and there's bunk beds", said Basil.

"What is Egypt like?", asked Olga.

"Fascinating, brilliant. While Cairo is too crowded and big, the pyramids really are that impressive and fascinating up close. We went on a tour inside the pyramid of Cheops but it's not for claustrophobic or anxious people. The Valley of Kings at Luxor is just as fascinating, plus the area is more rural and less crowded. But Alexandria is my favorite place, since Ptolemaic Egypt is my area of expertise. We keep finding more and more interesting things in the city. Imagine the city at its height, seeing the Pharos and the Library or Alexander's tomb", said Basil with a dreamy smile.

Olga's mind was swimming with all their talk about road trips or Egypt, sparking her determination to travel and see more of the world. She'd been slightly jealous when Tatiana had gone to Iceland and later to Belgium with Jack, and now going to America. But now the idea of riding on Ian's bike to Scotland or traveling to Egypt or India sounded thrilling, not the looming dread of their forced exile into Siberia or the uncertainty of Ekaterinburg. "In December, you want to come to our family reunion in Scotland? It's at Dunrobin Castle in the Highlands, the ancestral seat of the Scottish Sutherlands?", asked Ian.

"Of course, Mama said Scotland is lovely and I would like to meet your family", she replied enthusiastically.

"We can't take the bike since it's winter, we take the train all the way up north", said Ian.

"I don't mind, I imagine that Scotland is colder than England in the winter", she said as the waitress arrived with their lunch. 

[Tim]

Sounds like Olga wants to see Egypt.

Sol Duga could also save Cleopatra, but she would have a much harder time adjusting to our world. 

[ladyfiaran22]

May 19, 2020 11:11:56 GMT -5 Tim said:

Sounds like Olga wants to see Egypt.

Sol Duga could also save Cleopatra, but she would have a much harder time adjusting to our world. 

She actually had a daughter who outlived her and was married to the governor of Mauritania, they had kids. Her son Ptolemy of Mauritania was Governor after his dad so she might still have living descendants