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"Sit on the bed" mum ordered, "You're disgusting, you're going in the shower now."Some bastard had apparently thrown up all over me after breaking my nose with a sledgehammer and I'd been lying in it all night!"I'm going to say something, and I don't care whether you like it or not"I groaned and offered up a silent prayer to God to come and get me as she drew the stinking tee shirt up over my head, the socks, jeans and shorts followed and then I watched in amazement as she took her own tee shirt and panties off."Fucking hell mum" I moaned, "Not now, I've got a headache!" Well I've got just the cure for it," she said firmly and dragged me into what was almost a standing position if you discount my knuckles dragging on the floor!"Whoopee" I yelled as we staggered into the bathroom, "Watersports" then I coughed and several large clots of blood spurted out of my nose.It took a minute or two for her to get me into the bath and then another couple of minutes to pick me up again."Stand up. Feeling more secure now that he had his suit, and now certain that the aliens weren’t going to roast him alive over one of the fires, he wandered back over to the group. They were just watching him, waiting for something. Their ice-blue, reflective eyes tracked him with feline pupils, their ears swiveling and twitching. Should he try to communicate with them? Their language was almost unrecognizable as speech, maybe their vocal cords couldn’t even pronounce English words.“Hello,” he said, waiting for some kind of response. “My name is Schaffer,” he added as he tapped his chest with a gloved finger. “Schaffer.”The aliens looked puzzled, mumbling to each other in a tongue that sounded like a slow-motion cat fight. They dispersed, whatever they had wanted from him, they seemed to have gotten it. Evidence of his own sapience perhaps? He had to keep in mind that they had likely never seen anything like him before, he was just as alien to them as they were to him. He had to concede that on.
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He faced away from her as he dressed again. He picked up his embroidered surcoat from it had been casually thrown on the rush strewn floor. He held it up and examined it. Isabel saw the de Grey family crest with the rampant gold leopard. She owed her whole life to the proud, gold leopard. She was reminded of the de Grey family motto- Anchor fast anchor. Giles had told her of it on the journey from Calais to Dover, when they had first become lovers. ‘Anchor fast anchor,’ he had told her proudly, a gleam in his grey/blue gaze. ‘It means steadfast, never changing. Hold steady and protect, like the anchor does.’ Steadfast and never changing was certainly what Giles was, though he was also a good protector. Isabel had smiled as they lay side-by-side and curled up together on the narrow bed, the rough seas rolling underneath them. Giles had been explaining the de Grey family history to her, telling her that they had come over with the Norman hoards in support of William of Normandy’s.

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