Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 �>�Emily by Zenobia

   Chapter 1

   What a shit day.

   Clive watched the scenery slide past from the dubious comfort of his
underground tube seat.  He wondered why they even bothered putting windows
in tube trains.  Eighty percent of his journey was underground, where the
only view out of the window was the reflection in the glass of his own face
and those of any other unfortunates in the carriage.  They would have been
better replacing the windows with TV screens.  Then you could at least
watch the news or something instead.

   As it was, all he could see were abandoned old carriages, freight wagons
and other assorted industrial detritus dotted over the sidings.  The
sidings themselves slipped past, replaced with the heavily graffiti -(TM)d
rear walls of industrial units.  Except they didn -(TM)t call it graffiti
now, did they?  It was  -~tags -(TM).  Whatever, it was still a pile of
multi coloured spray painted shite.  His daughter when she was five had
made better with her crayons.

   The industrial units and their acrylic vomited exteriors went the way of
the sidings.  The back end of houses took their place.  The gardens an
alternating hodgepodge of meticulously maintained green spaces, full on
jungles and household scrapyards.

   Clive took a firm grasp of the handle of his briefcase.  Next stop was
his.  The tube slowed in a cacophony of creaks, groans and squeals.  Not
unlike his body first thing in the morning.  Unfortunately.  The tube
slowed, jerked, sped up a little bit, slowed back down.  The station
appeared, empty at this time of the day.  With a final little vicious jerk
for the unwary, the tube halted, the doors failing to open.  There were
mutters of impatience from those closest.  Their release from transitory
hell so tantalisingly close.

   The doors finally opened and humanity burst forth, like a Viking ship
disgorging warriors to battle.  Though with a lot less beaded hair and
beard.  Same amount of axes to grind though.  Clive was carried through the
door into air that was only marginally more tolerable than that left behind
in the tube.

   All the gates in the station were open; no station manager in their
right mind dared impede the flow of those with  -~home -(TM) in their
sights.  The mass of grouchy and irritable humanity flowed across the road,
completely ignoring the pedestrian crossing, using sheer numbers to bully
the motorised mechanical traffic to a standstill.  Even the cyclists.  No
amount of Go-Pro -(TM)s mounted on your cycling helmet would protect you
from the much less technical punch to the face.

   As quick as they had appeared, the bipedal stampede was past and cars,
cyclists and other road users moved back into motion.  The herd, safely
across the road, burst into all directions as though it had spotted a
predator.  Clive, safe in his little bubble of irate humanity, entered the
multi-storey carpark.  His little group fracturing further as they peeled
off to their steel steeds for the final push.

   He dumped his briefcase on the passenger seat and started the engine,
cranking the air con up to max.  Just one more day.  One more day and it
would be the weekend.  Even better, it was going to be a weekend home,
alone.  His wife and their tempestuous 14 year old daughter, Emily, were
off to Glasgow.

   His wife ran a small a small gymnastics club, nothing fancy, and they
were taking part in a yearly national competition in Glasgow.  They had
been practicing hard for months, determined to raise the stature of the
club.  Nothing lofty, top 50 club place was the aim.  They were currently
ninety something or other in England, Clive had never really paid much
attention, other than to make appreciative noises in all the, hopefully,
right places.  Top fifty was the aim, but his wife would be really happy to
get up to the 70 -(TM)s.  Clive, as a general rule, left them all to it. 
He couldn -(TM)t think of anything worse than being mixed up with the
doings of a bunch of pre-teen and teen girls.  He had enough problems with
his underlings at work.  Whoever says middle management is fun, was an
idiot in Clive -(TM)s mind.  Non-stop pressure coming down from the above
management, and non-stop idiocy coming up from below.  Well, that wasn
-(TM)t fair.  Upper management had their fair share of idiocy as well and
weren -(TM)t adverse to sharing it.

   One more day.

   One more day and peace, beer, and a several days of soap free TV.  There
was a F1 Grand-Prix on Sunday, some good footy matches on Saturday and a
boxing match Saturday night.  Takeaways, beer, no women.  As close to
heaven as you could get without actually having to go through all the
palaver, hassle and general awkwardness of dying.

   It all started to go horribly wrong when he entered the house to the
remarkably unwelcome sound of crying.  So, number one daughter was injured?
Not too much of a problem, she mostly spent all her non-practising time
upstairs in her room anyway.  So, factor in some time to make some soothing
noises and listen to wails of disappointment to a year of wasted training.
This was doable.  She might even still go, and just sit on the side-lines.
All was not yet lost.

   He entered the kitchen to the sight of wife and daughter both crying. 
No visible injuries.  This wasn -(TM)t looking too great.  He looked from
wife to daughter, back to wife.  Clive dumped his briefcase on the counter,
plastered on a sympathetic expression and hugged his wife, who sobbed
loudly and remarkably painfully into his ear.

    -�What -(TM)s up my love? -� He gently asked.

    -�It -(TM)s my mum; she -(TM)s had a stroke. -�

    -�Oh.  Is she...  ? -�

    -�No, they got to her in time.  But the outlook is ...  not good.  I
can -(TM)t leave her. -�

   Well, that explained the crying then.  Emily would either go with her
mum to Wales, or go with the other girls to Glasgow.  The weekend was still
on.

   He tried to comfort his wife.   -�I -(TM)m sure your mum will pull
through, she -(TM)s a fighter, like you, and they can do amazing things
these days in hospital. -�

    -�You don -(TM)t understand! -� She bawled into his ear.  Emily started
crying loudly as well.  Yes, he was certainly missing something somewhere.
-�I can -(TM)t go! -�

    -�There will be next year.  Your mum needs you and I -(TM)m sure the
girls will be fine in Glasgow. -�

    -�That -(TM)s just it! -�

    -�Err, what is? -�

    -�If I don -(TM)t go to Glasgow, there is no-one to drive the mini-bus,
the girls will miss out, and all their training will be for nought.  It
will devastate them!  But if I go to Glasgow and mum dies without me
there... -�

    -�Ah. -� Clive could see the issue now.   -�Can -(TM)t Florence drive
the girls? -� Florence was another mum and a major helper in the club.

    -�She doesn -(TM)t have D1 on her licence... -� More crying.

    -�Surely some other mother has mini-bus on their licence? -�

    -�No, I -(TM)ve been phoning around all afternoon... -�

    -�What about if you took cars? -�

   She shook her head.   -�I asked, not enough parents with cars are free,
and there are accommodation issues at the other end. -�

    -�Okay, what about hiring a bus, or a driver? -�

    -�Tried that as well.  Most of the local firms are already booked out
and the ones that are available, we can -(TM)t afford the cost. -�

    -�What about just a driver? -�

    -�None available with DBS and our insurance won -(TM)t cover us if the
driver hasn -(TM)t a valid DBS... -�

   Although he normally had nothing to do with the club, Clive still had to
go through the Disclosure and Barring Service checks- which were supposed
to stop unsuitable people working with children and vulnerable adults-
because his wife ran the club.

   His wife slipped from his grasp and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.  She
sighed.   -�I can -(TM)t leave it till tomorrow.  I -(TM)ll have to make
the call and inform the parents tonight, so they can adjust their plans for
the weekend.  I can -(TM)t see how the club can realistically attend now...
-�

   Clive could think of one more, really unpleasant, option, and by the
look in her eye, his wife had thought of it as well, but was at least
giving him the chance to voice it.  A silence descended upon the kitchen,
Clive glanced towards their daughter.  Emily was looking at him
expectantly. She had obviously thought of it as well.

   His weekend plans crumbled to dust.

    -�I can drive... -� He reluctantly started as Emily squealed and leapt
into his arms.

    -�Are you sure?  Are you okay with that? -� His wife asked.  As
rhetorical questions go, it was a pretty shitty one.  His wife was more
than aware that he would rather poke his eyes out with something long,
wooden and dripping in effluent.

   It wasn -(TM)t as if he realistically had a choice.  He was already a
named driver on the clubs minibus insurance, all the parents knew him, as
did the girls.  It was the sensible choice.  It was the adult thing to do.
Adulting sucked.

   His wife joined the hug.   -�Thanks love.  It will mean a lot to the
girls.  It means a lot to me... -�

    -�I -(TM)ll phone my boss now, let him know that I won -(TM)t be
available Monday, and that I -(TM)ll only be in for Friday morning. -�

   Clive disentangled himself from his wife and daughter, pulled out his
mobile and rang his boss.

   Word had got round before Clive even stepped through the office doors.
The female staffers giving him sympathetic looks, the males laughing
uproariously.  He managed to clear his desk in the few hours he had
available, the issues he didn -(TM)t have time to deal with, he palmed off
to the other managers to sort out.  He set his e-mail to  -~out of office
-(TM).  Most of the e-mails that morning had been from his contacts all
sending him basically the same message of  -�Don -(TM)t forget to take your
passport! -� They probably thought they were being funny.  Admittedly, the
first one had been mildly amusing, but it had quickly tapered off after
that.

   He stuffed some reports into his bag and left at eleven am.  At least
the tube was fairly quiet at that time.  He stopped off at the house for a
bite to eat and to pick up some essentials.  His wife had already packed a
bag for him, which she had left at the door, and he added a laptop to his
luggage.  He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the forthcoming days.
His mind drifting back to the previous night.

   His wife had been very thankful, and had shown it last night.  Their sex
life had been tailing off somewhat over the previous few months, the result
of his work and her commitment to the coming tournament.  But she had made
time for him last night.  His wife had never liked giving blowjobs; she
hated the taste and the feel of cock in her mouth.  He had never pushed her
to pleasure him that way, and as a result, could count on one hand the
amount of times in their seventeen years of marriage that she had done so.
Last night had joined that rare list of occasions.  It hadn -(TM)t been
that great, if he was being honest, but it was the thought that counts.

   He took one last look around, assuring himself he had everything and
closed and locked the door.

   Clive pulled up into the Community Centre carpark.  The small carpark
was full of cars as parents dropped their progeny off, wishing them luck.
Bags were stacked everywhere.  Clive shook his head.  They were only going
away for three nights, not three weeks.  He parked up in the last available
space and lifted out his luggage, not bothering to lock the car behind him.

   There was a lot of excited screaming going on.  Way too much.  Clive was
already regretting the decision he had no choice but to make.  Being
trapped in a seventeen seater minibus with that amount of rampaging
oestrogen was not going to be a pleasant experience by any stretch of the
imagination.

    -�Cheers Clive, for stepping in at the last moment. -�

   Clive turned round,  -�No problem Graham.  I know how much this means to
the girls, they have been training hard for this. -�

    -�I -(TM)m sorry to hear about Irene -(TM)s mother.  What a terrible
position to be in. -�

   Clive shrugged.   -�It is what it is... -�

    -�Aye.  Was panicking a little myself when we heard.  We had a nice
weekend away booked.  A bit of  -~quality time -(TM) with the other half,
if you know what I mean... -� Graham furnished his comment with a
completely unnecessary wink.

   You fucking twat.   -�Well, enjoy yourself Graham. -� There was another
piercing scream of excitement and Clive winced.   -�I just wish that I had
thought to bring hearing protection. -�

    -�Aye, rather you than me.  Safe journey.  I hope you -(TM)re passports
in date... -�

    -�Haha.  Thanks Graham. -� Clive continued towards the Ford Transit
mini-bus.  One of the parents ran a garage, and had provided the gymnastics
club with the mini-bus.  It wasn -(TM)t new by any means, second or third
hand at least, but it was well maintained.  The father had no desire to be
responsible for any mechanical failure that might result in harm to his
daughter or anyone else -(TM)s daughter for that matter.  The garage in
question had its name predominantly displayed down the side, along with
some other local businesses who had  -~donated -(TM) money to the club, to
help pay for the fuel and insurance costs through the year.

   A reporter and photographer from the local paper were there as well. 
Taking pictures of the girls and their parents.  The father who had donated
the mini-bus was unsubtly making sure that most of the pictures were taken
against the bus with his garage -(TM)s name prominent in the shots,
arranging the girls so they  -~just happened -(TM) to block out the other
sponsors names.

    -�Thanks love, for this. -� His wife kissed him, to the cat-calls of
some of the girls and mock throwing up sounds from their daughter.

   He handed her the car keys.   -�It -(TM)s not a problem. -�

    -�Florence has all the competition details, she knows what to do.  I
-(TM)ve had a word with all the girls, individually and collectively, they
shouldn -(TM)t be a problem.  If they are, which I seriously doubt they
will be, let Florence deal with it. -�

    -�I fully intend to, chauffer only I am. -�

    -�There -(TM)s a tripod and digital camera in the back.  Since I can
-(TM)t be there, I need you to film the girls -(TM) performance so I can
critique it later and work on improving their performance. -�

    -�Oh.  I had planned on propping up the hotel bar ...  It -(TM)s not
really my scene this whole gymnastic thing.  Can -(TM)t Florence do that?
-�

    -�And who will be looking after the girls?  Do you want to look after
them? -�

    -�Ummm, okay, fair point.  Florence can babysit. -� He hastily agreed.

    -�We -(TM)re not babies, Mr Sanders! -�

   Clive turned round to look at the girls watching him.   -�I didn -(TM)t
mean it like that. -� He told them before he turned back to his wife  -�Is
it, you know, okay for me to film the girls? -�

    -�Why wouldn -(TM)t it be love? -� She looked at him perplexed.

    -�You know, all those young girls in leotards, I umm, errr, you know
what, just forget it. -�

    -�Come on girls; get your stuff packed away in the minibus.  I want you
away before the evening traffic builds up at Birmingham.  Remember, early
to bed, I want you at your best Saturday and Sunday. -�

    -�Yes Mrs Sanders... -� The girls drawled in reply like the teenagers
they were.

   Clive looked at the baggage being stuffed inside.   -�It is just three
nights isn -(TM)t it? -�

    -�You know it is, why? -�

    -�That -(TM)s a lot of stuff.  Why are there sleeping bags and mats? -�

   Irene opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by the reporter and
the photographer,  -�Irene, Clive can we have picture of the two of you
please? -�

    -�Of course! -� Irene replied before Clive even had a chance to open
his mouth.

    -�That -(TM)s terrible timing, what with your mother and all... -� The
female reporter said.

    -�It -(TM)s not great, I agree, but the girls have trained hard and are
at the best they have ever been.  I know they will do themselves and the
club proud... -�

   Clive tried to smile in the least creepy fashion he could manage as the
photographer clicked away.  He had a horrible suspicion that he had failed.
He broke away as quickly as he could before the reporter started asking him
any questions.

   He stashed his meagre bag in the back, securing his laptop bag under one
of the rear seats so that it wasn -(TM)t crushed.  Slipping behind the
wheel, the keys were already in the ignition, so he turned the key to the
pre-start position, warming the glow plugs, happy to see that the tank was
full.

   His wife rounded up the girls  -�Come on, in you get girls. -�

   Emily opened the passenger door and climbed into the front, buckling
herself into the middle seat.  She looked at him, took his hand.   -�Thanks
dad. -� He smiled back down at her.

   The last of the girls climbed in the side door and Irene slid it shut as
Florence climbed into the front passenger side.  Florence looked between
the two front passenger headrests and counted off the girls in the back.

    -�Good to go? -� Clive asked.

   Florence nodded her head  -�Good to go. -�

   Clive dipped the clutch, started the engine and changed into first gear,
marvelling as he often did at how alien it felt to have a gear lever on the
dash.  The watching friends and family all cheered loudly and waved as they
moved off, the photographer taking more shots of the minibus and it -(TM)s
madly waving occupants.

   Florence said nothing as she flicked through a hefty folder in her lap.
Clive left her alone, as he hated it himself when people spoke to him when
he was sorting stuff out in his head.  The Transits two litre engine was
surprisingly lively considering the weight it was hauling, though it did
force him to be just as equally lively with the lower gear changes as they
made their way through town.  It was a bit of a relief to finally slip onto
the motorway, Clive nestling the Transit minibus into the slipstream of a
passing Stagecoach bus, the turbulence allowing him to ease off on the
accelerator and yet keep the same speed.

   Closing her thick tome, Florence turned so she could look behind at the
still boisterous girls.

    -�Here come the rules... -� Someone in the back muttered, loudly.

    -�Yes, here comes the rules, -� Florence agreed.   -�Tracy, Laura, Bev,
you are the oldest and over eighteen.  With age comes responsibility, and
normally wisdom, but we -(TM)ll make allowances for you Bev, -�

    -�Ha-ha, Flo... -� Bev drawled semi-good naturedly.

    -�As you all know, Irene -(TM)s mother suffered a heart attack so she
is unable to join us, -� Clive looked down at his daughter, who looked
about to burst into tears, so he dropped his left hand onto her lap, where
she took hold of it with both of hers and smiled sadly back.   -�Mr Sanders
has kindly agreed to drive us in her stead, so we can all take part in the
competition that we have all been training hard for over the last couple of
months.  I don -(TM)t want any of you to give him any grief.  The loss of
Irene makes us a little shorthanded, so I expect you three to step up and
help me look after the younger members of the squad.  And that is what we
are, a squad.  Look out for each other, help each other.  Maya, Olivia,
Kinsley, Aria, Bella, I want you to treat Tracy, Laura and Bev as your
older sisters and don -(TM)t mess them about. -�

    -�Laura is my older sister, Flo... -� Pointed out a bemused Olivia.

    -�Unfortunately... -� Muttered Laura.

    -�Settle down.  You know what I mean Olivia.  This competition will be
as good, or as bad as we make it.  I want it to be good, let -(TM)s make
Irene and our families proud, okay? -� There were mutterings and grumblings
of assent.   -�Do you have and questions or problems? -�

    -�Flo? -�

    -�Yes Clara. -�

    -�How, what do we address Mr Sanders? -�

   Florence looked towards Clive.

   Emily turned to look back at Clara.   -�Well, I -(TM)m using  -~Dad
-(TM). -�

   Clive shrugged at Florence.   -�Clive is fine.   -~Mr Sanders -(TM) is a
little bit too formal, don -(TM)t you think? -�

    -�I -(TM)ll think I -(TM)ll join Emily and call him  -~Dad -(TM) -� Bev
joked, the other girls laughed.

   Florence met Clive -(TM)s gaze, shook her head and rolled her eyes.

   They didn -(TM)t make as good a time as Clive was hoping.  They managed
to get past Birmingham before evening rush hour, but bad accidents on the
M60 and A74 along with roadworks meant that it was past ten o -(TM) clock
that night when they finally pulled up at their hotel.  Clive was
shattered. The girls were excited and full of energy, having spent most of
the journey asleep- though they had all woke up in time to cheer loudly as
they passed from England into Scotland.  Even Florence had nodded off for a
couple of hours in the front.

   They hadn -(TM)t been the only ones caught up in the delays.  Several
other minibuses had just, or were in the process of pulling into the
carpark.  Clive pulled up in front of the hotel -(TM)s front doors to let
everyone pile out with their luggage, saving them having to lug it across
the carpark.  The side door was slid shut and someone banged on the outside
twice.  Releasing the handbrake, Clive pulled off as another minibus pulled
into his just vacated spot.  Finding a place to park turned out to be a
chore in itself.  The car-park was large, but so were minibuses, taking up
two spaces lengthways each, and there were a lot of mini-buses.  He found a
spot and parked up, turning off the ignition and stretching his back.  He
opened his door and walked round to the side door and climbed in to
retrieve the only luggage left; his bag, laptop, tripod and video camera.
The tripod was a bit too much and he decided just to leave it in the
minibus.  Clive climbed back out, slid the door shut and pressed the button
on the fob to lock the doors.  He made his way to the hotel, the air a lot
cooler here at night than it was down south.

   A minibus was creeping along the tarmac, the female driver peering
around for a spot.  Clive flagged her down and directed the grateful woman
to his minibus where there were still some spaces.

   The doors to the hotel were thronged with girls, all excitedly gossiping
away.  Clive felt the start of a head-ache and just wanted to go to bed. 
There were a lot of sleeping bags being carried by the girls, but Clive
-(TM)s brain was too exhausted to chase the thought further.

   Male security stopped him at the door, as girls and women walked past.

    -�Are you a guest? -�

    -�Yes, why? -� Clive answered a little perplexed.

    -�You need to get a pass. -�

    -�A pass? -�

    -�Yes. -�

    -�Okay, where do I get a pass? -�

    -�Just in the doors, on your left. -� The guard stepped aside but
watched Clive intently as he entered the hotel proper, the security guard
moving so that he could keep Clive in sight.  Sure enough, just inside the
doors was a table, manned by a male hotel employee and another security
guard.  Clive approached.

    -�Umm, I was told to get a pass? -�

    -�Are you here for the gymnastics competition? -�

    -�Yes. -�

    -�Booking reference? -�

    -�Errr ...  No idea.  Hang on; I need to phone a friend. -� Clive
pulled his phone out and phoned Florence.   -�Florence?  I -(TM)m at the
main door; I need to get a pass or something?  I need the booking number?
Okay. -� He put his phone away,  -�She -(TM)s coming over. -� Florence was
over in seconds, she couldn -(TM)t have been far, but it was hard to see
anyone as the foyer was heaving with people.  Mostly women and girls.

   Florence opened up her folder and conferred with the staff member;
sheets of paper were handed over and handed back.  The Staff member seemed
satisfied and turned back to Clive.   -�Please step on the red dot on the
floor to your right and look at the plant pot on the shelf, aannddd, that
-(TM)s fine. -� Something buzzed, hummed and clattered away on the desk as
the staff member handed over a lanyard.   -�For security, the Hotel
requests that you wear your ID at all times inside the building and that
should you lose it, that you inform a staff member immediately. -�

    -�Umm yeah, sure. -� Clive slipped the lanyard over his head, the empty
ID holder resting against his chest.  The machine on the desk finished
growling and the staff member took something from the tray, looked at it,
looked back at Clive and handed it over.  Clive looked down at the ID
badge. His rather tired looking visage stared back.  It wasn -(TM)t a very
flattering picture.  The hotels logo was in the top left corner, a hologram
in the top right.  His name and his wife -(TM)s gymnastic club name were
neatly printed under the picture.  Clive slipped the ID into its holder.  
-�Ummm, why do I need ID? -�

    -�The hotel takes the security and wellbeing of its guests seriously,
sir. -�

   Clive looked around the foyer  -�Umm, I get that but no one else has
ID... -�

    -�The Hotel takes the security and wellbeing of its vulnerable young
female guests seriously, Mr Sanders. -�

    -�But... -� The penny dropped.   -�Ahh, yes, I get you now.  Sorry, I
didn -(TM)t mean to be a dick.  It was a long drive, I -(TM)m a bit
knackered. -�

   The staff member smiled and nodded.   -�Enjoy your stay Mr Sanders. -�

   Clive picked his luggage back up and went looking for his party.  He
found them at the reception desk.  Florence was signing several sheets of
paper and looking a bit harassed as the younger girls cavorted around her.
Tracy and Laura had spotted a couple of girls they knew and were chatting
animatedly and exchanging hugs.

   Emily turned his new ID so she could see it.   -�That -(TM)s a terrible
picture Dad.  You could have at least have smiled. -�

   Bev looked over, from where she was busy texting on her phone and peered
at the picture.   -�She -(TM)s got a point, dad. -�

   The rest of the girls wanted a look and started to laugh.  He opened his
mouth, but he was just too tired.  He shut it again as he saw the mouth of
the check-in girl curl up at the corners.

    -�Right.  You are in rooms 256, 257 and 258. -� The check in girl laid
down three plastic cards.   -�As requested, three cards for 257, -�
Florence picked the three cards up and handed them over to Bev.   -�Two
cards for 258 one of which is a master card for all three rooms, -� The
check in girl marked the corner of the three room master-card with a black
permanent pen.  Florence took those.   -�One card for 256, -� She placed it
down on the counter,  -�And one more master card for all three rooms. -�
She marked the corner of that one as well.  Florence picked up those two
cards and handed them to Clive.  He took them.   -�There is a ten pound
charge for lost cards.  Enjoy your stay and good luck in the competition!
-�

   The girls all excitedly thanked her in return as they moved away from
the check in desk.

   Florence looked up at the ceiling where little brass signs were mounted,
and marched off purposefully.  Clive taking up the rear, his exhausted
brain struggling to get his limbs working in the right order.  Florence had
headed off down a corridor, and then waited by two elevators.  They both
arrived the same time Clive did and they all piled into them.  Someone
punched in one of the floors and the doors slid shut and the elevator rose,
the girls giggling at the momentary increase in their gravity.  Clive found
his brain strangely stuck on the sign on the wall stating that the maximum
passengers in the lift should not exceed eight.

   The lift came to a halt and they all pilled out in a giggling mass and
Florence, woman on a mission, was off again.  She stopped by a door and
pressed her card to the plate by the handle.  The door  -~clicked -(TM) and
she turned the handle and pushed it open, ushering in the youngest members
of the group.  Tracy, Laura and Bev had already entered their room.

    -�Earth to dad! -� Emily plucked a card from his hand, slapped it
against the lock and opened their door, racing inside along with Jade,
Clara, Kaylee and Alice.  Emily tossed the card onto the low dresser that
held a mirror and a kettle along with a wicker basket with an assortment of
instant tea -(TM)s and coffee packets.

   Clive entered as the door whispered shut behind him.  He looked at the
large double bed.  The reason for some of the girls carrying the matts and
sleeping bags suddenly became apparent.  Emily didn -(TM)t have a sleeping
bag.  Emily caught his glance.   -�I normally share the bed with mum. -�
She stated matter-of-factly.

    -�Errr... -� Clive watched helplessly as the girls jostled for what
they deemed to be the most desirable sleeping positions on the floor.

    -�Clara normally ends up in the bed as well. -�

    -�I -(TM)m not so sure that would be such a good idea this time.  In
fact I -(TM)m not so sure this is even a good idea full stop. -� He dumped
his stuff down in the one spot that wasn -(TM)t taken up by either an
unrolled sleeping bag or one of the girls many bags.   -�I -(TM)m just
going for some, err fresh air. -� The girls paid him no heed as he slipped
from the room.  He pulled his phone out just as another group of
competitors exited the lifts, squealing and giggling with excitement.  He
put his phone away and nipped into the lift before the doors shut.

   The main foyer was still busy and very noisy, so he walked outside.  It
was definitely colder at night up here.  He walked away from the main
doors, pulled out his phone again and dialled his wife.

    -�Hi love, you get to Glasgow okay? -�

    -�Yes, some delays, but we are here.  You never told me that I would be
sharing the room with five girls! -�

    -�I know, I -(TM)m sorry.  I -(TM)ve had a lot on my plate the last
couple of days. -�

    -�I understand, but it -(TM)s kind of a big deal. -�

    -�I know, I did try to find other accommodation, but everywhere else
has been booked out for months.  I could have put Laura or Tracy in with
Emily and the girls, but that would have left you alone in a room with Bev
and either Tracy or Laura.  I didn -(TM)t want you alone in a room with
just two girls. -�

   Clive sighed and rubbed his face with his left palm.   -�Okay.  I
-(TM)ll sleep in the minibus. -�

    -�Don -(TM)t be daft!  I spoke to the girls before they left, they don
-(TM)t mind, Emily certainly doesn -(TM)t. -�

    -�Yeah what about the other girls parents? -�

    -�I spoke to them as well.  It -(TM)s not ideal, but neither is the
whole situation.  Sometimes you have to make allowances in life.  It -(TM)s
only for a couple of nights. -�

    -�Oh God... -�

    -�You -(TM)ll be fine love. -�

    -�How -(TM)s your mother? -�

   There was a long pause.  When she spoke her voiced wavered.   -�Not
good. The doctors aren -(TM)t sure she will last the weekend. -�

    -�Shit.  Sorry to hear that. -� Clive didn -(TM)t know what else to
say.

    -�Clive? -�

    -�Yes love? -�

    -�Don -(TM)t tell Emily.  You know how she feels about her gran.  It
will devastate her.  If she knows, it will ruin her performance, that
-(TM)s if she is even up to performing her routine, which I doubt she would
be if she knew. -�

    -�I won -(TM)t tell her. -�

    -�Thanks love.  Go to bed, you sound shattered. -�

    -�You don -(TM)t sound so good either.  Where are you sleeping? -�

    -�They have some beds spare, they are allowing me to use one.  I think
they use them themselves on long shifts to get an hour or so -(TM)s rest.
-�

    -�Look after yourself Love.  Keep me informed. -�

    -�And likewise, seriously, use the bed, the girls are fine about it. 
Emily will act as chaperone for the girls.  Not that they need it, I know
you won -(TM)t do anything. -�

    -�Okay love. -�

    -�And make sure you get footage of the girls -(TM) performances for me.
It -(TM)s important that I see how the girls react to the stress and the
pressure of performing in front of a large audience, so we can work on any
issues for the next competition. -�

    -�I will do my love.  Get some sleep. -�

    -�And you as well. -�

   The line went dead.

   Clive headed back inside, the security guards stopping him to check the
pass against his chest before allowing him further in.  He made his way to
the elevators then sighed and swore quietly.  He closed his eyes for a
moment then pulled out his phone and dialled.

    -�Clive, what -(TM)s up? -�

    -�Florence, what room am I in again? -�

    -�256. -�

    -�Thanks. -�

    -�Get some sleep.  You sound exhausted. -�

    -�Yeah, the wife has just said the same thing. -�

   Clive stopped outside of room 256 and looked down at the card in his
hand.  The size of a bankcard and tastefully decorated with the logo of the
hotel, it had a small  -�If found please return to... -� on the back.  A
room number would have been nice, but then, they were just generic cards
re-programmed every use by reception.  Having a number stamped on the front
would just be confusing he supposed.  He tapped it against the lock,
listening to the click.  Should he knock first?  Give warning?  What was
the etiquette in situations like this?

   He opened the door slowly, feeling a little bit creepy.  The room was
almost in darkness, just the one single bedside light on.  He entered,
letting the door gently click shut behind him.  He turned his head, taking
a cautious sniff of his underarm.  Not pleasant.

   Stepping carefully, it looked as though an admin bomb had been
detonated; he made his way to his bag and removed his toiletries and a
clean pair of shorts that he tended to wear when sleeping in the company of
others other than his wife.

   He thought the room was bad, but it wasn -(TM)t a patch on the bathroom.
Bottles and jars of seemingly every cosmetic product going, took up every
flat surface available.  He counted eleven bottles alone in the shower. 
With an electric toothbrush, small tube of accompanying paste and a bar of
soap, he felt as though he was letting the male side down somewhat.

   He turned on the shower and winced as an extractor fan with the same
decibel level of an aircraft taking off, roared into life.  He moved to
switch it off but decided at the last moment that the damage was done; they
were all undoubtedly awake now anyway.  He quickly disrobed and stepped
into the shower, knocking over one bottle that somehow managed to take out
every other bottle that was upright in the tray.

    -�Fucks sake. -� He bent over and stood all the bottles back up.

   He rubbed the soap through his hair and over his body.  Within a minute
he was done.  He shut off the water and dried himself off as his gaze
travelled over the array of products, each one trying to outdo the others
in their claims to make hair shine like the sun or turn skin softer than a
ripe peach.  He pulled on his shorts and brushed his teeth, managing to
knock over most of the bottles that crowded around the sink.

   There were indeed two bodies already in the bed.  He easily made out
Emily -(TM)s form snuggled up to, well, he had no idea who.  There was
enough room for him to slip in the other side.  He pulled the blanket up
and switched off the light.

   A rather full bladder woke him up.  An arm that wasn -(TM)t his was
wrapped around his torso, a young body pushed up tight against his.  He
reached out an arm and lifted his phone from the bedside table.  Twenty
five past four in the morning.  He placed his phone back down.  He hoped
that arm and body was his daughter.  He gently and as quietly as he could,
moved the arm away.  It was indeed his daughter.  One less thing to worry
about, he supposed.  If you could ignore the whole dubious issue of
sleeping in a bed with your fourteen year old daughter in the first place.
He emptied his bladder, waiting for the noise of the flush and tank
refilling to die down before opening the bathroom door.

   He tried not to look, but couldn -(TM)t help himself.  During the night,
the girls in sleeping bags had become too hot and had unzipped them and
bare limbs poked out in all directions.  Sleeping attire for young girls
these days seemed to consist of lose shorts and a t-shirt.  Thankfully
nothing too scandalous or revealing.  He slipped back into bed; Emily was
semi awake, as she moved back over to cuddle him.  He took her hand in his
and almost instantly nodded off.

   Consciousness rapidly made its presence known to his sleeping mind,
helped no end by the fighter aircraft masquerading as the bathroom
extractor fan and the very animated young voices trying to outdo it.  If he
kept his eyes shut, maybe they would all go away.  Nope that wasn -(TM)t
working.  He cracked open an eye.  The bed was empty.  He raised his head.
So was the floor.  Surely they couldn -(TM)t ALL be in the bathroom.  How
was that even physically possible?  He pulled a pillow over his head; it
managed to deaden some of the noise.

   Something jumped on him.  He daren -(TM)t look.

    -�Morning dad! -�

   He cautiously pulled the pillow aside.  His daughter sat astride him,
clad in shorts and baggy T-shirt.

    -�Morning. -� He groaned as his eyes flicked to the side.  One of the
girls, Alice, was moving about.  She was just dressed in what appeared to
be either a support bra or a sports bra/exercise top and a pair of pants.
Yip those were definitely knickers, he hastily looked back to his daughter.
Movement to the other side of Emily.  It was natural human reaction for the
brain to look in the direction of movement caught at the edge of vision. 
Clive looked.

   Jade exited the bathroom, laughing at something someone had said in the
bathroom.  She also was clad in just a sports bra/top and knickers.  She
saw Clive looking at her.  She smiled  -�Morning Mr Sanders. -�

    -�Err, morning Jade. -� He hastily looked back at his daughter.  
-�There is too much flesh on display here. -�

    -�Problem, is it dad? -� She teased.

    -�I don -(TM)t want anyone to get the wrong idea, or you, know anything
be taken the wrong way... -�

    -�GIRLS! -� Emily shouted,  -�I need a word! -� Jade and Alice stopped
what they were doing and Clara and Kaylee- both dressed in their underwear-
popped out of the bathroom.

    -�What? -� Kaylee asked.

   Emily turned to look at the other girls.   -�My dad is worried that you
might be traumatised by his presence or feel unsettled by him seeing you in
your underwear... -� The girls all laughed, which wasn -(TM)t really the
response he was expecting.

    -�You can see me naked if you want Mr Sanders... -� Clara teased.

    -�Err, no thanks Clara, I -(TM)ll pass if you don -(TM)t mind.  As nice
as you are, you should leave that for your boyfriend. -� Clive paused as he
thought about what he had just said,  -�Umm when you are older that is, you
should most definitely NOT be allowing your boyfriend to see you like that
at your age.  In fact, do you even have a boyfriend?  Don -(TM)t answer
that actually, I don -(TM)t want to know. -�

    -�You think Clara is nice? -� Emily asked.

   Clive kicked himself mentally as Jade, ballet dancer that she was,
decided to start her stretching exercises.  The first of which seemed to be
slowly lifting her right leg all the way up so that her knee resided
against the back her head as she balanced gracefully on her left, the toes
of her raised leg almost hitting the ceiling.  She had done so facing Clive
side on and he was all too aware of how the thin fabric of her pants was
stretched tight against her pubic region.

   Clive found the pose to be extremely unsettling for two reasons, first
that it appeared that she was openly displaying herself to him and
secondly, his brain refused to believe the human body was capable of such a
movement in the first place.  Hell, he had pulled muscles before simply by
lifting the TV remote from the floor.

    -�Err is that the bathroom free? -� He didn -(TM)t give Clara and
Kaylee time to say no, ungracefully tipping Emily onto the bed and quickly
grabbing some clean clothes before shutting the door in Clara -(TM)s face.

   He washed his face in cold water and stared at his dripping face in the
mirror.   -�Fucking hell... -� He dressed quickly and started to open the
door then paused.   -�I -(TM)m coming out! -� He shouted as he opened the
door.  The girls had adopted various poses of what looked to be physical
torture, somehow casually chatting away as they did so.

    -�I didn -(TM)t know you were gay dad... -� Emily teased.  She was
lying back on the bed and had joined her pals in the pants and exercise top
state of dress; she also had her ankles behind her head, a pose which
prominently displayed her ...  Clive grabbed his phone from the bedside
table and the room key-card with the permanent marker on the corner, before
quickly leaving the room.

   He slumped against the corridor wall outside, rubbing his eyes with the
thumb and forefinger of his right hand.  He wasn -(TM)t alone in the
corridor; girls were coming and going in excited voices.  Older women stood
outside rooms, speaking into mobile phones, some quietly, some angrily. 
Lots of movement between rooms.  Three girls in their underwear ran out of
room 252, paused when they saw Clive, screamed in embarrassment and dived
into room 253, which emitted sudden gales of laughter until the door shut,
cutting the hilarity off.

   The woman arguing on the phone outside 260 was giving him an evil eye.

   The door to 257 opened and Beverly stepped out, clad in a loose but
stylish tracksuit emblazoned with the clubs name and logo, a small bag over
her shoulder.  Clive didn -(TM)t even know the club had branded tracksuits.
 -�Morning dad. -�

    -�Morning Bev. -� He didn -(TM)t see the point on making a fuss, the
morning had been trialling enough so far.  Bev was followed by Laura, also
attired in the same club tracksuit, bag over shoulder.

    -�Morning dad... -�

   So, this was how it was going to be was it.   -�Morning Laura. -�

    -�Morning dad... -� Tracy pulled the door shut behind her.   -�Can you
let Flo know we are off to breaky? -�

    -�Morning Tracy.  I will do. -�

   The three walked down the corridor, bags swinging.  Clive watched them
go.  The dubiously good, the most certainly bad and the definitely not
ugly.

   The angry woman must have heard the girls, for she no longer payed him
any attention, probably thinking him their actual father, which reminded
him as the door to 258 opened and Florence stepped out.  Florence was also
attired in the club tracksuit, though hers had the addition of  -~Coach
-(TM) emblazoned over it.

    -�Are they up? -�

    -�They are up; I -(TM)m, uh giving them room to change.  Flo? -�

   Florence slapped her card against the lock  -�Yes? -�

    -�Can you grab my hotel ID card off the table?  I forgot about it. -�

    -�Sure. -� She disappeared inside and re-appeared a few seconds later
with the lanyard, handing it over.   -�Any problems last night? -�

    -�None. -�

    -�Wonders will never cease... -�

   Clive wasn -(TM)t quite sure who she perceived as being the problem, the
girls or him.   -�Bev and Co have already left, said they were off to
breakfast. -�

    -�One less problem... -� She darted back into his room.

   The lanyard made a big difference.  He didn -(TM)t feel such a creep
standing outside the door.  The demeanour of the women walking past, many
with charges in tow, had also changed.  Their looks turning from one of
nervous caution and outright suspicion, to one of sympathy.

   His door opened and Florence reappeared, the girls following her.  All
attired in the clubs tracksuit, small bags over their shoulders.  Flo
nipped into the older girls -(TM) room, and was back out before the door
had even shut on its auto-closer.   -�I -(TM)ll meet you down at breakfast.
-� She said, sounding a little hashed.

   Clive wondered if he maybe he should be pulling his weight a bit more.
He had no idea how, but he mentally made a note to ask Florence how he
could be of more help, though he suspected the answer would probably be
along the lines of  -~just stay out of the way -(TM).

   Emily was last out and shut the door behind her as the girls bounced
down the corridor.  She took his hand in hers as they followed.

   The restaurant was an absolute mass of heaving and rushing bodies.  The
noise was deafening.  The girls lined up in the queue, choosing fruit juice
and muesli.  Clive went for coffee and enough fatty food to block a sewer.

    -�Have you got enough bacon on there? -� Emily asked.  He had, but he
added another rasher simply because she had made the comment.  The staff
behind the counter looked somewhat bedraggled as they ran about refilling
the quickly depleting cereal dispensers and milk jugs, whilst at the same
time keeping polite smiles on their face as they cleaned up yet another
dropped plate of food.  Clive had no idea as to what the done-thing was in
relating to eating with the kids.  Did he eat with them, or did they prefer
their own space?  It was all a minefield, like being back at school and
looking for your friends amongst the eaters in the canteen, or if you were
late and missed them, looking for someone who didn -(TM)t mind your
company, or failing that, a Billy-no-mates space.

   He looked around; most tables had an adult on them.  Best he eat with
the girls then, make some attempt at adulting.  The girls had chosen a free
table as close to the older three girls as possible, and comments were
flying between the two.  Clive sat down between Jade and Emily and tore
into his plate and coffee.  He reckoned he would need all the help he could
get, to get through the forthcoming day.  The queue had died down and the
tables started to empty.  The had definitely arrived at the tail end of the
rush.

    -�It -(TM)s getting quieter. -� He remarked to Emily.

    -�Only for a moment, and then the girls that have been training come in
for something to eat. -�

    -�Girls have been training? -�

    -�Yeah, those at the top will have already crammed in an hour or two of
training. -�

   Clive glanced up at the clock on the wall  -�Jesus, I thought your mum
was a slave-driver. -�

    -�She -(TM)s pretty cool actually. -� Chipped in Jade,  -�Like, she
does push us and all that, but she doesn -(TM)t go mental about it.  If we
miss a session, she puts on the disappointed face, gives us a bit of a
lecture, and then lets it go. -�

    -�Kindergarten -(TM)s here. -� Remarked Kaylee.

   Clive looked round.  Sure enough, Florence had arrived, herding the five
youngest members, one of whom was in the process of balling her eyes out. 
-�Looks like a bit of drama going on. -�

   Emily looked over.   -�Kins, has independence issues.  She always cries
when separated from her mum for any length of time.  Normally not too bad
in the morning, but a complete nightmare at night. -�

    -�Oh. -�

   Florence and her charges navigated the dietary minefield and made their
way over.  Kinsley, still crying, dropped her tray onto the floor, smashing
the crockery and sending milk and juice everywhere.  Clive stood and made
his way over, taking Flo -(TM)s tray from her so she could start to collect
the broken pieces of crockery, piling it all back onto the soaking tray. 
One of the restaurant staff came over with a mop and bucket and started to
quickly and efficiently clean up the spill whilst Florence apologised
profusely.

   Eventually, they got the children settled, a new tray of food for
Kinsley.  The older girls had long since finished and were head down,
thumbs busy on their phones, Clive -(TM)s lot had finished and were
chatting amongst themselves whilst the youngest were getting tucked in. 
Kinsley had stopped crying long enough to stuff food into her mouth.  Clive
walked over to Florence.

    -�Is there anything I can do to help? -�

   Flo swallowed the mouthful of food.   -�Thanks Clive, but don -(TM)t
take this the wrong way, it -(TM)s probably best if you just stay out of
things at the moment.  If I ask you to do anything I will just worry about
whether or not it will be done, and end up double checking it anyway, so I
might as well not bother.  But I will take you up your offer if I need to,
thanks. -�

    -�Okay, sure.  I -(TM)m here if you need. -� He walked back to Emily
and girls.

    -�DAD! -�

   Clive sighed, looked up and over to the table with the senior girls. 
The shout having attracted the attention of all the girls at the
surrounding tables.  Clive had a sneaky suspicion that was the point.  
-�What is it Bev? -�

    -�Are you still taking me bra shopping later? -�

    -�Beverly! -� Flo shouted across as the girls at Clive -(TM)s table
laughed,  -�Leave your father alone! -� Which set all the girls off, even
Kinsley.

   Clive shook his head at Bev  -�Very droll. -�

   There was an upsurge in girls at the food counter, a queue quickly
forming.  Emily nodded her towards it as she looked at her father  -�That
-(TM)s the elites. -�

   Clive turned his attention towards Florence, who was busy cleaning up a
spilt drink at her table with a handful of napkins.   -�What happens now?
-� He asked of her.

    -�We go across the road to the Exhibition centre, for some practice and
the heats.  You keep an eye on your lot, Tracy, Laura and Bev will have to
look after themselves.  Just follow the girls. -� Florence explained.

    -�Dad? -�

    -�Yes Emily? -�

    -�Do you have the other key card? -�

    -�Yes, here. -� He pulled out his wallet, made sure he didn -(TM)t hand
over the master.

    -�So we don -(TM)t have to keep asking you if we need anything from the
room. -�

    -�Fair enough.  But let me know if you are popping over, and do so in
pairs, I don -(TM)t want any of you wandering off alone.  That -(TM)s a
point; I will need all your numbers.  Well, not yours obviously, Emily, I
-(TM)ve already got that. -�

    -�Jade -(TM)s is 077... -� Emily started to recite the number from
memory.

    -�Woah!  Easy there tiger, let me get my phone out first! -� Clive
pulled out his phone, unlocked it and moved to his contacts list  -�Jade...
-� He said as he typed her name in,  -�Right, go on, give me her number...
-� Emily also gave him the numbers for Beverly, Tracy and Laura.

   The street between their hotel and the venue was packed with track
suited bodies, a lot of them male gymnasts.

    -�Our hotel only caters for female competitors.  Mum prefers to book us
into female only accommodation when she can. -� Emily explained to his
unasked question.

   Clara giggled,  -�Remember last year, she could only get mixed
accommodation for the Birmingham competition? -� The girls all laughed at
the memory.

    -�What happened? -� He asked, not sure that he wanted to know the
answer.

    -�Tracy, Laura and Bev had some, err male friends round. -� Emily
answered.

    -�For the night. -� Clarified Clara.

    -�We were next door; they were very noisy, kept us up most of the
night. We didn -(TM)t get much sleep. -� Kaylee added.

    -�They certainly didn -(TM)t get any. -� Muttered Alice,  -� -~What are
you waiting for!!  Fuck me with that hard cock of yours...   -~ -� Alice
quoted.

    -� -~You -(TM)re so hard!  Pound my pussy...   -~ Bev is quite a
screamer when she cums. -� Remarked Kaylee.

    -�Err, I get the jist of it girls, thanks. -�

   They walked on in silence as they approached the venue doors.  Clive
couldn -(TM)t help himself,  -�ALL night? -�

   Emily nodded.   -�All night... -�

   There was a very busy row of ticket booths which Florence led them to.
The man behind the kiosk they had queued at, handed over lanyards with
competition passes.  Florence looked at the pictures on the passes, handing
them out to the requisite girl.  Emily slipped a pass with  -~competitor
-(TM) emblazoned across it and her picture over her head.  Flo handed him
his.  His picture was on it, an old one that Irene must have provided,
probably from her phone.  He had  -~coach -(TM) emblazoned across his.

   Bev nodded towards his pass  -�Still prefer  -~dad -(TM) over  -~coach
-(TM) -� The other girls laughed,  -�Coach? -�

   Clive sighed,  -�Yes Bev? -�

    -�Can you help me with my stance?  I -(TM)m not sure my limbs are in
the right place, can you help position them correctly for me...  ? -�

    -�Bev... -� Warned Florence.

   The arenas were packed with athletes and equipment, horse, bars, rings,
mats.  Florence checked a map she held and led them through the throng,
following the coloured signs, leading them to a small area of equipment
marked by a number and colour.  The equipment was already being used, but
the gymnasts quickly vacated the space when they saw Flo -(TM)s party
approach.

   Florence dumped her bags down at the edge of their designated practice
area.   -�Make sure you all warm up properly.  I hope you all did your
stretching exercises this morning? -� The girls put their bags to the side,
removing footwear and unzipping the legs of their tracksuit bottoms before
slipping them off.  The tops quickly followed.  The girls were all wearing
matching leotards underneath their tracksuits.

   It felt a bit creepy watching the girls -(TM) change, so Clive turned
his attention to the rest of the arena.  Boys and girls were hard at work
practising on the equipment, swinging legs about on horses or gracefully
somersaulting on the beam.  It made him feel a little bit sick to watch
such graceful co-ordination.  It took most of his attention just to walk
down a street without tripping over his own two feet.  He doubted he could
even stand up on the beam without falling off, let alone do a backwards
somersault.

   A boy, well man really, stepped up to a set of rings, rolling his neck
to either side as he circled his arms.  A man, about Clive -(TM)s age,
dressed in the ubiquitous club branded track suit, stepped up behind him,
placed his hands on the man -(TM)s waist and effortlessly lifted him up so
the gymnast could reach the rings.  Clive watched in awe as the gymnast
went through some simple warming up moves, before settling into a routine.
The gymnast spun about for a bit before falling limp for a second before
tensing, and stretching out his arms ninety degrees from his body.  He
paused again, then slowly brought his ankles up, legs straight, up and up
until he had adopted a handstand.  His arms didn -(TM)t even shake, every
muscle in his body clearly defined, not an ounce of fat to be seen.  The
man was living paradigm to male beauty and a perfect physique.

    -�Jesus suffering fuck! -� Clive muttered to himself.  He could now
understand why his wife preferred the girls to stay in single sex
accommodation rather than mixed.  And how the three girls and their 
-~friends -(TM) could have gone on all night ...  The males seemed to be
every bit as flexible as their female counterparts, and Clive couldn -(TM)t
help but wonder at some of the sexual positions that must allow.  His
repertoire with his wife consisted mainly of missionary and doggy.  This
lot could quite literally do it hanging from the ceiling.

   Beverley broke into his thoughts,  -�Dad? -�

    -�Yes Bev? -�

    -�A hand please? -� She stood in front of a set of rings.

    -�Sure. -� He hastened over as she turned to face the rings.  He
stepped up behind her, as she changed her mind and turned round.  She
lifted her arms expectantly.  Trying not to look down at her breasts,
failing, he reached out and took a firm hold of her waist and lifted her
up, almost brushing his nose against her breasts as she went past.  Taking
hold of the rings, Bev spread her legs to either side of Clive and lifted
herself quickly up so that Clive had an up close and very intimate view of
her groin.  He quickly stepped back and turned away, furtively looking
around to see if anyone was watching.  No one appeared to be.  Bev let out
a small laugh that told Clive that she had indeed, done it deliberately.

   Jade was on the beam, using her ballet training to obvious effect, every
movement carried out with studied graceful poise.  Clara was swinging
gently on the horse, whilst Tracy was working out on the parallel bars,
carefully watched by Laura who was holding a mat in case she slipped.

   Florence had the younger girls tumbling and jumping on the mats, giving
out corrective advice.  Kinsley was waving a streamer about as she moved,
whilst Bella was going through flips whilst holding a ball that somehow
seemed stuck to her like metal to a magnet.

    -�What do you think dad? -�

   Clive looked down at Emily.   -�I think the local A&E must be on high
alert.  Could you have not picked tiddlywinks or something as a hobby? 
Something less fraught with danger. -�

    -�It -(TM)s fun! -�

    -�I think we will have to agree to disagree on that. -�

   Bev dismounted from the rings with a thump.

    -�Come on, give me hand. -� Emily raced to over the rings, Clive
trailing behind.  Bev treated him to a smirk as they passed.  Emily chalked
her hands and looked over her shoulder impatiently.  Clive lifted his
daughter up, looking away so he wasn -(TM)t looking at her bum as he held
her till she was happy with her grip.  Bev was watching them, the smirk
still on her face.  He was going to have to be careful around her.

    -�Okay, I -(TM)m good. -�

   Clive let her go.

   He watched his daughter for a while with worry.  She obviously, even to
his untrained eye, struggled with the rings.  Her arms trembled a lot, she
couldn -(TM)t hold any position for long, and she needed several attempts
at some manoeuvres to carry them out.  Her dismount was ungainly and
awkward enough to lodge his heart in his throat, and she was forced to take
two steps forward to regain her balance.

    -�Good effort Em! -� Called out Florence.   -�Still a bit hasty with
the dismount, but I see that you have been working on it. -�

    -�Yeah, you manged to stay on your feet for a change and not land on
your face. -� Laughed Laura as she took up position in front of the rings,
lifting her arms.  She didn -(TM)t ask but it was obvious what she was
waiting for.  Clive walked over and lifted her up.  She pulled herself out
of his grip and he quickly stepped back before she planted a foot in his
face.

   There was a scream and a thud from one of the other practicing teams. 
Clive looked over as the coaches ran towards the girl who had fallen from
the beam.  They led the crying girl towards the side as a boy took her
place on the beam.  Clive watched them comfort her for a moment then lead
her towards the mats for some simple moves.  Within minutes they had her
back on the beam.

   Florence along with keeping her eye on the girls, was keeping her eye on
the time, leading girls off to be graded.  It proved to be an exhausting
morning for Clive and all he was doing was watching.  They packed up their
stuff and made their way back to their hotel for lunch.  Remembering what
his wife had asked, he popped up to his room to pick up the camera,
stopping off at the minibus on the way back to the venue to collect the
tripod.

   Florence, with the help of the older trio, put the youngest through
their paces on the equipment as Emily started a small music player and the
middle girls went through their routines on the mats.  Clive set up the
tripod and camera, filming all the girls for his wife.

    -�Make sure you get my best side. -� Bev called out when she saw Clive
filming her.

    -�At least he won -(TM)t have to zoom in for your tits. -�

    -�Laura!  Language please. -� Florence really didn -(TM)t miss much,
Clive noted.

    -�Sorry Flo.  At least he won -(TM)t have to zoom in for your breasts
...  That better? -�

   Clive wondered if he should delete that bit of the recording, since he
was sure the camera -(TM)s mike had picked up the exchange.  He decided
just to leave it.  His wife knew the girls a lot better than he did, so it
probably wouldn -(TM)t bother her.  Though the exchange did make him warry
of appearing to focus unduly on any of the girls private parts.

   Emily and the other four middle girls were going through a joint
co-ordinated routine that reminded Clive of a cheerleader squad on
steroids. Clara and Kaylee were currently holding the smallest, Alice, up
in the air, as Jade and Emily jumped and tumbled about.  It was quite
impressive in all honesty, especially the timing.  Though there were a few
moves that didn -(TM)t seem to fit in with the over-all routine, some bits
were actually quite jarring.

   The girls finished and came over, all breathless and panting.

    -�What do you think dad? -�

    -�Impressed, very impressive. -� And he was,  -�What -(TM)s with all
the fist pumping though, can you not make it a more sweeping gesture? 
Jade; help me out here,  -�Clive waved his arm.  As a demonstrative move,
even he knew it was a terrible effort.

    -�What, like this? -� Jade asked as she carried out a sweep that
articulated exactly what he had tried to convey and failed miserably to do.

    -�Yes!  Exactly like that!  Can you not do that instead? -�

    -�Don -(TM)t see why not... -�

   Clive had the other four girls carry out the move, letting Jade correct
their faulty stances and improve their motion.  There were a few other bits
that he felt needing tweaking and using Jades ballet knowledge and the
girls -(TM) own impressive ability to adapt, they adjusted their routine.

   Clive was so into it now that he was surprised when Flo informed them
that it was tea time.  They had a slow meal then back over to the arena. 
Flo had them perform simple posture moves, nothing to excessive that would
disturb their full stomachs.

   Emily, Clive and the girls worked on improving their routine,
streamlining it, laughing at Clive when he tried explaining what he wanted,
but struggled with his lack of technical knowledge, often resorting to
pointing out other gymnasts who were carrying out the move he wanted,
accompanied with the phrase  -�That thing. -�

   The girls were subdued when they headed back to the hotel, exhaustion
from the day -(TM)s activities taking its toll.

   Clive told the girls that he was going to the bar for a drink.  Although
he really did fancy a pint, it was mostly to give the girls some private
time to shower and change in the room.  He watched as they all trooped off
towards the lift.  Kinsley crying again.

   The door to the bar had a large sign on the outside amateurishly
written.  -~No women! -(TM).  Clive stepped inside.  The bar was half full
with men; the only woman in sight was behind the bar.  Boxing was on the
large screen.  Strangely for a bar, it seemed really quiet without the
excited shouts and squeals of girls.  Some of the men were in tracksuits;
most of them were dressed in casual clothes.  Fathers of participating
girls or male club staff who had driven the mini-busses.  Clive ordered a
beer and took it to a quiet corner and luxuriated in the relative silence.
It felt weird not to have someone shout  -�Dad! -� Every few minutes ... 
He was half way down his pint when he felt his phone ring.  He looked at
the ID.  The wife.  He picked up his beer and stepped out of the bar into
the quieter foyer so that he wouldn -(TM)t be distracted by the large wall
mounted TV.

    -�Yes love? -�

   They chatted for a while about their respective days.

    -�Clive? -�

    -�Yes love? -�

    -�Why are the girls all calling you  -~dad -(TM)? -� Of course, she
would have spoken to the girls individually before finally ringing him.

    -�Bev said it as a joke. -�

    -�It would be her... -�

    -�I thought if I made an issue of it, some of the others might copy
her, you know how these things go, so I let it go. -�

    -�It didn -(TM)t work. -�

    -�No -� He agreed,  -�it didn -(TM)t.  You don -(TM)t half get some
strange looks from people when thirteen girls are all calling you  -~dad
-(TM). -�

   Irene laughed,  -�Now there -(TM)s a disturbing thought. -�

    -�Isn -(TM)t it just. -�

    -�Where are you now? -�

    -�I was just in the bar, topping up on my testosterone level. -�

    -�Don -(TM)t drink too much; you are supposed to be looking after kids
don -(TM)t forget.  You have to be sober should you need to take any of
them to A&E or something.  Scotland has a lower drink drive limit as well
remember. -�

    -�It was only having the one whilst the girls were showering and stuff.
-�

    -�I -(TM)m sorry that I couldn -(TM)t get you a separate room.  It was
all too short notice. -�

    -�It -(TM)s okay, I understand love. -�

    -�The girls okay about it? -�

    -�They seem to be fine.  To be brutally honest, I think I am more
embarrassed about the whole thing than they are. -�

    -�Yeah, well no funny stuff.  How -(TM)s Flo coping? -�

    -�Really well, though she could be crying her eyes out in her room
along with Kinsley for all I know. -�

    -�Is Kins still doing that? -�

    -�Apparently so. -�

    -�Hmmm.  If they have any Blue WKD in the bar, pick her up a bottle. -�

    -�Who for, Kinsley or Florence? -�

    -�Flo you idiot. -�

    -�I know, just teasing. -�

    -�Right, I -(TM)d better go.  I -(TM)m exhausted. -�

    -�Okay my love, speak to you tomorrow night. -�

    -�Love you. -�

    -�Love you too. -�

   Clive put the phone away in his pocket and finished off his pint.  He
entered the bar again and placed his empty on the counter.   -�Do you have
any Blue WKD? -�

   Clive rapped gently on the door to 258.  He could open it, he supposed
with his card, but that seemed wrong.  She might already be asleep...

   The door opened and a towel turbaned head poked round.  Florence saw
that it was Clive and opened the door fully, revealing that she was attired
in a thick, luxurious looking towel.   -�What -(TM)s up? -�

   He held out the cold blue bottle.

    -�God, you -(TM)re a lifesaver. -� Flo gratefully took the cold bottle
and shut the door in his face.  Clive stared at the door for a second,
bemused.  He shrugged and headed for his shared room.  He heard the door
open again behind him.  He looked back as Flo stuck her head out.   -�Sorry
about that, I -(TM)m just not thinking straight at the moment. -�

   He waved her embarrassment away,  -�Don -(TM)t worry about it, you
-(TM)ve had a long day. -�

   She nodded apologetically and saluted him with the bottle,  -�Thanks. -�
She shut the door again.

   Clive knocked on his own door, waited a few seconds and tapped the lock
with his card, pushing open the door.  The room was almost in darkness but
he could hear the low murmur of voices, so at least two of the girls were
still awake then.  He retrieved his wash kit and shorts and slipped back
into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind.

    -�Don -(TM)t you use a towel? -� Emily sleepily asked as Clive slipped
into the bed and she wrapped an arm about him.

   The next morning was pretty much a repeat of the previous morning.  He
awoke to the noise of excited girls and was greeted with the sight of five
girls, in their underwear, in a selection of physically disturbing
postures.

    -�Bathroom free? -� A stupid question he realised, since he could see
all five girls.  He shut the door and had a shit and a shave.  He dressed
and without thinking opened the door and stepped out.  Clive stopped dead
as the girls also stopped dead, the two sides staring at each other.

    -�Errr... -� Clive stepped back into the bathroom and shut the door. 
The scene of five topless girls in the process of donning their leotards,
firmly imprinted in his mind.  He could hear nervous laughter outside and a
smile crept into his own lips.   -�Let me know when you are decent. -�

    -�Dad, you can come back out. -� Shouted his daughter.

   Clive stepped back out  -�Sorry, I should have warned you.  My bad. -�

   The girls had fully donned their leotards and were putting on their
matching club tracksuits.  His only reply was shrugs and giggles.  It
seemed that there was, quite literally, strength in numbers when it came to
being caught half naked.

   He slipped his two ID badges over his head and waited for the girls to
finish, following them out of the room, carrying the tripod and camera.  He
knocked on the door to the older girls -(TM) room, didn -(TM)t hear a
reply, so used his card to open the door.  The room was empty.

   He pulled out his phone and phoned Florence.

    -�Yes Clive? -�

   He could hear crying in the background, Kinsley again then.   -�That
-(TM)s me and the girls heading to breakfast.  The older girls have already
left. -�

    -�Okay, thanks.  I -(TM)ll see you down there. -�

   The girls chatted excitedly on the way, comparing aches and pains from
the previous day -(TM)s exertions.  There was a palpable air of excitement
in the restaurant this morning, as most of the competitions were today.

   Clive went easy on the breakfast this morning.  The greasy food hadn
-(TM)t sat that well yesterday when mixed with the stomach churning drama
of watching the gymnasts going through their paces.  Kinsley had stopped
crying by the time she had entered the restaurant and even managed to carry
her tray to the table without dropping it.

   They headed over to the arena in an excited gaggle, Flo telling all the
girls to go easy on the warm up and not to do anything too strenuous or
risqu�(C) in case they injured themselves before their slots.  Clive couldn
-(TM)t help but notice that toilet dashes were frequent for all the girls.
He supposed that it was quite a big deal at their age, a lot of pressure;
even though they had all been told that there was none and that that they
were to enjoy themselves.

   Kinsley started crying again, the pressure too much for her.  Clive
found himself sitting in a chair cuddling her on his lap as she bawled into
his shoulder whilst passing mothers and trainers gave him sympathetic
looks. They had all been there.  Flo in the meantime was organising the
girls, making sure they turned up for their slots and taking charge of the
camera to shoot footage for Irene.

   It was all a bit hectic.

   He managed to soothe Kinsley enough to get her to perform her routine in
front of the judges.  It wasn -(TM)t anywhere near perfect; she stumbled a
few times on the mat and fell off the beam, but managed to climb back on
and finish.  The girls all gave her a standing ovation and big cheer when
she finished.  She ran into his arms and soaked his other shoulder with
tears.

   Emily and her cohorts had adjusted their dance routine slightly again,
incorporating more of Jades ballet moves into the mix, making it smoother
and more flowing to Clive -(TM)s inexperienced eye.  He was surprised how
adaptable they had been in order to change so much in such a short space of
time.  There was a brief heart in mouth moment where it looked like they
were all about to collide in the middle of the matt in one massive tangle
of limbs, but somehow they managed to avoid disaster.  Clive had a sneaky
suspicion that Jade had seen what was about to happen and had quite
literally adjusted her sequence of moves mid-air to compensate for someone
else -(TM)s mistake.  Clive wasn -(TM)t sure who it was, there was so much
going on at the time.  It was a relief when they all finished at the exact
same time around the edge of the mat.  It was an impressive display of
timekeeping and co-ordination.

   They were all shaking when they left the mat, the adrenaline pumping
through their young bodies.  Listening to their almost incoherent babble of
relief, Clive learnt that It was Kaylee who had miss-counted a step,
potentially putting the whole display at risk, only for Jade to channel her
inner cat and twist her body so that she managed to slip through the
smallest of gaps between three other airborne bodies.  Clive found himself
comforting a distraught Kaylee.  This whole shoulder to cry on thing was
becoming a bit of a trend.  He wasn -(TM)t sure how he felt about that.

    -�It -(TM)s okay, -� He tried to console her;  -�It worked out in the
end. -�

    -�But I almost ruined it! -� She wailed.

    -�Almost, but you didn -(TM)t.  It was a great performance!  Something
to be justifiably proud of. -�

    -�They -(TM)ll hate me... -�

    -�Don -(TM)t be daft.  It could have been any one of you that made the
mistake.  You just lucked out.  Next time it could be Emily, or Alice or
even Jade. -�

    -�I doubt it will ever be Jade... -�

    -�Yeah, you are probably right.  She -(TM)s a female ninja.  I bet she
was a cat in a previous life. -�

   Kaylee sobbed and laughed at the same time, a weird snorting grunt that
made them both laugh.  There was a big lump of snot hanging from her nose
and Clive offered her his sleeve.  Kaylee recoiled in mock horror  -�Urgh!
Gross! -� Flo came to her rescue, handing over a tissue.  She blew her nose
noisily.

    -�Now get back over with your friends Kaylee. -� Clive shoved her
forcefully towards her friends.  Clive and Florence watched the girls hug
Kaylee.   -�That was close.  Even I saw it. -�

   Florence agreed.   -�You have no idea.  Jade did well to avoid them all
and recover it without it being too obvious.  She has natural talent in
spades. -�

    -�What -(TM)s next? -�

    -�Just Bev on the rings.  It -(TM)s not her strong point.  In fact, I
would say it -(TM)s her weakest discipline, so neither Irene or I are
expecting much. -�

   They cheered Beverly on at the rings then made their way back to the
hotel.  Jade was limping slightly, she hadn -(TM)t quite got away with her
on-the-fly improvisation.  With the competition finished for them, the
girls tore into their evening meal, eschewing healthy eating for taste. 
Burgers and chips were piled high on plates, there was no longer any need
to keep their stomachs mostly empty.  Jade made all the girls laugh by
grabbing three cheesecake portions for herself.  Florence frowned at the
sight and moved to intervene.  Clive quickly stopped her and shook his head
 -�Let her, she deserves it. -� Flo didn -(TM)t look happy but let Jade
have her cheesecakes.  Jade enjoyed every bit of her three desserts and
made sure everyone around her knew it.

   Empty plates were collected and piled high on as few trays as possible,
the empty trays slipped under the packed ones.  Clive took them to the
collection point, letting the girls relax.  After the last tray was stored
at the cleaning station he told the girls of his room that he was going to
the bar, unsubtly informing them that he was giving them space to shower
and stretch off in privacy.

   Florence collared Jade.   -�Jade, when you have showered and changed,
come see me.  I want to have a look at that limp. -�

    -�Yes Flo... -�

   The girls all departed in a tired gaggle.  Clive made his way to the
bar, ordered a pint, and sat in one of the very comfy seats to watch the
Grand Prix highlights.  At some point he nodded off.

   Someone was shaking his shoulder, he looked up, it was Flo.   -�We are
going across for the results/prize presentations. -�

   Clive wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, clearing away a bit
of very undignified dribble.  His empty pint glass had gone.  One of the
bar staff must have collected it as he slept.  The girls were all waiting
outside the bar, freshly washed and hair combed, there was even a fair
smattering of makeup.

    -�Morning dad. -� Emily joked and the girls laughed.

    -�Hey!  I -(TM)ll have you know it -(TM)s hard work watching you lot
jump around like demented donkeys. -�

    -�If we are donkeys, does that make you Shrek? -� Asked Jade innocently
to much hilarity.

   Clive pointed at Jade.   -�You, young lady, are far too intelligent for
your own good... -�

   Emily slipped her hand into his and they made their way to the main
arena.

    -�Flo? -� Florence took her eye off the youngest girls for a moment to
spare Clive a glance.

    -�Hmm? -�

    -�We could easily leave now.  Granted we would get back at about two in
the morning, but it would get the girls back in time for school tomorrow.
-�

    -�We could, but we -(TM)ve paid for the rooms, so might as well use
them.  Besides, normally Irene is in no fit state to drive anywhere and
needs the sleep.  Also we prefer to attend the awards ceremony, I know we
are no-where even remotely near contention, but the girls that win do so
through hard work and a lot of dedication.  The least we can do is support
them and applaud their hard work, for it takes a LOT of hard work.  They
deserve their brief moment of glory in front of an audience.  How would you
feel collecting your medal in front of an empty arena? -�

   Put like that, it made sense and made him feel a bit of a dick for
suggesting that they head home.

    -�Sorry, you are right.  I wasn -(TM)t thinking. -� Clive felt as
though the level of regard Flo had for him had slipped somewhat in Flo
-(TM)s eyes.  He didn -(TM)t think the bar was set that high to start with.

   The arena was packed with screaming kids.  Some bona fide Olympic
athletes were on the stage, their Olympic medals proudly displayed against
their chests.  There was a brief speech given by one of them, about how the
participants here today, could be the nation -(TM)s Olympic hopefuls of
tomorrow.

   Clive quickly got bored of the proceedings; he had never been one for
awards ceremonies and pulled out his phone.  Logging on to 4G, he surfed
the football results, watching the best and worst goals of the day.

   There was a massive scream next to his ear that made him jump and drop
his phone to the floor.   -�Jesus... -� His ears were ringing.  He reached
down and picked it up; it didn -(TM)t appear damaged, luckily.  All the
girls were going completely and utterly bonkers, jumping up and down
screaming their heads off.  He winced and put his fingers in his ears,
which helped enormously,  -�What the fuck... -� He looked around.  Everyone
was staring at them clapping.  Olivia suddenly collapsed in a heap on the
floor, like a puppet that had its strings cut.  All was chaos.

    -�Clive!  Take Olivia outside for air.  Tracy, Laura, watch the girls.
-� Flo leapt into action trying to bring order to the chaos.  Clive picked
up the limp form of Olivia and followed Flo and the five girls from his
room into the aisle.  Flo and the girls headed towards the stage whilst
Clive raced to the back of the arena carrying the limp Olivia.  A green
jump suited paramedic spotted him and rushed towards him.

    -�What -(TM)s the issue? -� He asked as he pulled out a stethoscope and
placed it against Olivia as they ran towards the doors.

    -�Fainted, I think. -�

    -�Ok, follow me. -� He led Clive to a small room with  -~First Aid
-(TM) emblazoned across the door.  A female, also green boiler suited and
slumped in a chair, quickly put down a mug of something warm and steaming
and stood, pointing at the bed.

    -�Lay her down gently there.  What have we got? -� She asked of the
paramedic.  The woman had  -~Doctor -(TM) emblazoned across the back of her
shoulders.

    -�Elevated pulse, suspected vasovagal syncope. -�

   The doctor tilted the bed back, elevating Olivia -(TM)s feet as she
slipped a device onto the end of one of Olivia -(TM)s fingers as the
paramedic unzipped her track-suit top and slipped a blood pressure cuff
around her upper arm.

    -�What -(TM)s her name? -� The doctor asked.

    -�Olivia -�

    -�Date of birth? -�

    -�Don -(TM)t know.  I can find out.  She -(TM)s ten. -�

   Olivia came round, looking confused.  She spotted Clive  -�Dad? -�

    -�Err, I -(TM)m not actually her dad, it -(TM)s a joke amongst the
girls. -� He explained to the two medics.

   The doctor leaned over and smiled down at Olivia.   -�Hi Olivia.  I
-(TM)m doctor Mallory.  I hear you fainted? -�

    -�Did I, oh. -�

   Doctor Mallory looked at the readout on the pulse oximeter.   -�Olivia,
can I get you to take some deep breaths for me?  That -(TM)s it, a few more
for me, that -(TM)s brilliant.  What do you remember before you fainted? -�

   Olivia was quiet for a moment as she tried to organise her confused
thoughts, then a smile spread across her face  -�We won, we won! -� one of
the readings on the machine spiked.

    -�Take a deep breath for me, and another. -� The reading levelled off.
-�I -(TM)m just going to sit you up a bit... -� The back of the bed rose. 
-�How do feel? -�

    -�Okay. -�

    -�Any pain anywhere, dizziness?  Blurred vision? -�

   Olivia wriggled on the bed, testing herself.   -�No. -�

    -�I -(TM)m just going to shine this light in your eyes for a second. 
Were you competing today Olivia? -�

    -�Yes and yesterday. -�

   The phone in Clive -(TM)s pocket rung.  The wife.  Word was quick to
reach her about Olivia.  He waved the phone,  -�I -(TM)ll just pop outside
and take this. -�

   He shut the door behind him and took the call  -�Yes my love... -� His
wife was sobbing down the line.   -�Are you okay? -� It took her a moment
to compose herself.

    -�Sorry. -�

    -�It -(TM)s okay. -�

    -�My mum -(TM)s just passed away... -� the crying started again.

    -�Oh god, I -(TM)m so sorry. -�

    -�I was there and she, and she, she just slipped away. -�

    -�Awww ...  Are you still there with her? -�

    -�Yes.  Clive, she looks so peaceful... -�

   The door opened and the paramedic looked out.

    -�This is a bit awkward, Olivia passed out, she -(TM)s fine, I -(TM)m
with the doctor at the moment. -�

    -�Is she okay? -�

    -�Yes, yes, she -(TM)s fine.  Bit of bad timing.  What -(TM)s Olivia
-(TM)s date of birth?  Okay, got that. -� Clive repeated Olivia -(TM)s date
of birth several times in his head to make it stick.

    -�Where are the girls, are they okay? -�

    -�They are fine, it -(TM)s just Olivia, Florence is looking after them.
I need to go and see to Olivia, I -(TM)ll call you straight back. -�

    -�Yes, of course!  See to the kids, give Olivia my love. -�

    -�I will do, look after yourself as well.  Is there anyone with you? -�

    -�My dad is here... -�

    -�Okay, I will ring you back... -�

    -�Thanks Clive, for everything. -�

    -�No problem love.  Love you. -� He slipped the phone back into his
pocket and walked back into the room.   -�Sorry about that, everything is
happening at once.  How are feeling Olivia?  You -(TM)ve just given my wife
a big scare... -�

    -�Sorry dad. -�

   He ruffled her hair,  -�It -(TM)s okay, she sends her love. -� He gave
Dr Mallory Olivia -(TM)s date of birth.

   The male paramedic handed over a boiled sweet  -�Here you go suck on
this, your blood sugar is a little bit on the low side. -�

    -�We are not supposed to take sweets from strangers... -�

    -�It -(TM)s okay, Olivia, on this occasion it -(TM)s fine.  You can
always trust doctors and medical staff. -� Clive reassured her.   -�But
what you said is right, I -(TM)m proud of you, you -(TM)re a smart girl. -�

   Olivia smiled as she unwrapped the sweet and popped it into her mouth.

    -�Doctor, can I have quick word outside? -�

    -�Sure. -� She followed him outside.   -�What -(TM)s up? -�

    -�That phone call was from my wife; her mother has just literally died.
-�

    -�Oh, sorry for your loss. -�

    -�Thanks.  It was expected.  I need your advice though, my daughter is
here, loved her gran, how do I best go about telling her, should I leave it
for a while?  Normally I would chicken out and let the wife, you know... -�

    -�How old is your daughter? -�

    -�Fourteen. -�

    -�At that age you are best telling her straight, nothing is really
gained by delaying it, and its best she finds out from you rather than
someone else. -�

    -�Okay, thanks. -�

    -�Take her somewhere quiet when you tell her. -�

    -�I will do, thanks for everything. -�

    -�No problem. -� They moved back into the first aid room.   -�How are
you feeling Olivia? -� The doctor asked.

    -�Better. -�

    -�Okay, can you sit up for me?  That -(TM)s a good girl.  Do you feel
dizzy? -�

    -�No. -�

    -�Okay.  Try standing. -� Olivia stood.   -�Any dizziness? -�

    -�No. -�

    -�Walk to the door and back. -� Olivia walked to the door and back.  
-�How do you feel? -�

    -�Fine. -�

   Doctor Mallory turned to Clive.   -�Is she sharing a room with an adult?
-�

    -�She is sharing the room with some other girls and our female coach.
-�

    -�That -(TM)s fine, as long as there is an adult to keep an eye on her
overnight just in case.  I don -(TM)t think there is anything to be worried
about, just a mixture of low sugar count and too much excitement.  I would
still inform her parents and GP to be on the safe side. -�

    -�We will do, thanks again.  Say thank you to the nice medics Olivia.
-�

    -�Thank you. -� She turned to the paramedic  -�Thank you for the sweet.
-�

   He laughed.   -�It -(TM)s okay.  Don -(TM)t get to excited now will you?
Don -(TM)t want you passing out again... -�

    -�I won -(TM)t. -� Olivia stated with the certainty of youth.

   Clive led them back to the arena.  They squeezed their way along the
seats to join the rest of the girls who hugged her upon her return.

    -�Everything okay? -� Florence asked worriedly.

    -�Too much excitement mixed in with a low blood sugar count.  The
doctor said to keep an eye on her anyway tonight and to inform her GP. -�

    -�That -(TM)s a relief. -�

    -�Flo, I need to take Emily somewhere quiet for a while.  I -(TM)ll
text you the reason, though you might hear from my wife before then. -�

    -�Her gran? -�

   Clive nodded.

    -�Take as much time as she needs. -�

    -�Thanks. -� Clive took a deep breath and steeled himself.  Emily and
her fellow winners were selfying themselves and their bronze medals to
death with their mobile phones.

    -�Dad!  We came third in the Aesthetic Group!!!! -� She beamed up at
him, proudly showing her medal.

    -�That -(TM)s great!  I -(TM)m really, really sorry I wasn -(TM)t there
to see you get your medal. -�

    -�That -(TM)s okay; we know you had to take Olivia to see a medic.  Is
she fine? -�

    -�She -(TM)s fine; she just got a little bit excited at your win.  Let
-(TM)s see it then. -� She handed him the medal, the lanyard still around
her neck.   -�Oooo, its heavy isn -(TM)t it? -� He let it fall back against
her chest.   -�Look, Emily, can we go somewhere quiet, where we can hear
ourselves think? -�

    -�Sure. -�

   They made their way back along the seats, apologising as they squeezed
past people to get to the main aisle.  Clive led her out of the arena to a
quiet spot in the foyer.  He wrapped her in a big hug.  He pulled back so
he could see her face clearly.

    -�Emmy, while I was I getting help for Olivia, your mum rang.  Sadly,
your gran has passed away. -� She didn -(TM)t move at first then her face
collapsed and she screamed and buried her face in his shoulder.  A security
guard raced round the corner, stopped when he saw them.  Clive lifted a
hand and mouthed  -~it -(TM)s okay -(TM) at him.  The guard nodded and
walked back to where-ever he had run from.  He stroked her head as she
wailed into his chest.

   Eventually she pulled away from him, wiping her eyes.  Clive slid down
the wall to sit on the floor.  The sound of girls shouting and screaming
continued to emanate down the corridor from the main auditorium.  Emily
slid down as well and dropped her head onto his lap.

    -�Was it painful? -�

    -�No, your mum said that she just drifted away in her sleep.  She was
at her side, one minute she was there with your mum, the next, she was
gone. -�

    -�I -(TM)m glad mum was there. -�

    -�So am I. -�

    -�I don -(TM)t want mum to die.  Or you, dad. -�

    -�I don -(TM)t want to die either, but eventually, it -(TM)s our time.
She had a good life, your gran.  She saw her daughter grow up, got to see
what a beautiful granddaughter she had.  Your grandfather was there as
well, she left us surrounded by those she loved, who loved her.  There isn
-(TM)t a better way to go. -�

   They sat there in silence.

   Clive pulled out his phone, dialled his wife.

    -�Hi Love. -�

    -�How are you? -� He gently asked.

    -�Better.  A little bit numb.  Have you told Emmy? -�

    -�Yes, she is here with me. -�

    -�Is she okay?  I spoke with Flo, she told me that they came third in
the Aesthetic Group? -�

    -�Yes, they got medals and everything.  They are huge, it -(TM)s even
bigger than her head and you know how big her head is! -� Emily rolled over
in his lap to look up at him.  Her face was a frightful mess, her eyes all
red and puffy.  He smiled down at her.

    -�How cruel is that, her moment of glory destroyed. -�

    -�Do you want to speak to her? -�

    -�Yes, if she is capable. -�

   Clive handed the phone to Emily  -�Mum wants a word. -�

   Emily wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sat up.  Clive
wrapped and arm round her shoulders and hugged her close.

    -�Hi mum. -�

   He let them chat, tried to ignore how numb and sore his bum was
becoming.

   She handed the phone back, his wife was still on the phone.

    -�Look after our daughter tonight. -�

    -�I will. -�

    -�I wish I was there... -�

    -�I know, but you need to be there for your dad. -�

    -�I know.  I -(TM)d better go; you can -(TM)t have much battery life
left on your phone? -�

   Clive looked at the screen, he didn -(TM)t, he was almost in the red.  
-�I -(TM)ve got a bit left. -�

    -�Get Emmy, back to her friends.  They will help her through it.  I so
want to hug her. -�

    -�I know, and so does she. -� He handed the phone back to Emily.  She
spoke to her mum briefly and handed the phone back.  Irene had ended the
call.

    -�Come on; let -(TM)s get you back to your friends -(TM). -�

   Emily was welcomed back with tearful hugs, Florence had already
pre-warned the rest of the girls about the demise of her gran.  The party
was subdued but still excited over their totally unexpected medal position
as they made their way back to their hotel.

   Florence watched the four girls play with their medals, still taking
selfies as they walked.  Emily had gravitated back to her father, her own
medal hung limp and ignored.  Florence looked over to Clive and nodded her
head in the direction of the four girls.   -�Good luck getting those four
to sleep tonight. -�

   The reception staff on noticing the medals, congratulated them on their
success.  Clive told the girls that he would give them an hour to wash and
change for bed.  Emily refused to leave his side, burying her head in his
chest as the rest of the team headed up to their rooms.  He gently steered
her to some seats, determined not to sit on the floor again.  His bum was
still sore from the arena floor.

   The night manageress, Amy, according to her badge, came over to gently
ask if everything was all right.

    -�Her gran unfortunately passed away this evening. -�

    -�Aww you poor thing.   -� She spotted the medal  -�And when you should
be celebrating as well. -�

   Emily looked up, sniffled and clung tighter to Clive.

    -�Come with me. -� The manageress beckoned them to follow her.  With
nothing better to do, Clive followed.  Amy stopped at the restaurant doors,
pulling out a key to open the door.  She led them into the kitchen.  She
pulled out a large bowl and headed to the large freezer.  She opened the
door and turned back to Emily and Clive.   -�Vanilla, raspberry, chocolate,
Neapolitan or caramel fudge? -�

    -�Fudge.  Please. -�

    -�Good choice.  Have a seat. -�

   There were a couple of stools in the kitchen and they sat on them as Amy
rummaged in the Freezer pulling out a large commercial ice cream tub.  She
scooped an impressive amount out into the bowl and handed it over to Emily.

    -�Oops, you -(TM)ll need a spoon! -� She rummaged in some drawers and
handed one over.  Emily wasted no time in getting stuck in.

    -�Was it a long illness? -� She asked Clive.

    -�Stroke, happened the day before we left for the competition. -�

   They chatted for a while as Emily methodically worked her way through
the ice-cream.

   Clive watched her swallow the last of the ice-cream.   -�Come on young
lady, time we were getting you to bed.  Thank you Amy, for your kindness.
-�

    -�Not a problem. -�

   They made their way back to their room in silence.  Clive knocked on the
door before opening it.  The other four girls had all showered and changed
for bed.  They hugged Emily in turn

    -�Shower, bed. -� Clive gently urged.

   Emily disappeared into the bathroom; shut the door on the aircraft.  The
four girls looked towards Clive.

    -�Will she be all right? -� Jade asked.

    -�It will take her a few days, but she should be okay. -� He smiled at
them,  -�She has a good set of friends to help and support her.  Oh, by the
way, I never had a chance to congratulate you all.  So, well done all of
you.  You worked hard for it and deserved the win. -�

    -�It was only third place. -� Alice pointed out.

   Clive laughed  -� -~Only third place -(TM) she says ...  Seriously, well
done.  I -(TM)m proud of you all. -�

    -�Thanks dad... -� They all gave him a big hug.

    -�And will you stop with the dad thing. -�

    -�Yes dad! -� They chorused in unison.

    -�I asked for that, didn -(TM)t I? -�

   The girls all laughed.

   The bathroom door opened and Emily exited.

    -�Now get to sleep you lot, you have a long hard day tomorrow of
sleeping in the minibus... -�

   In the bathroom, Clive stripped and showered, slipping on his shorts
after he had dried himself off.  He wasn -(TM)t going to miss the cramped
bathroom with its extractor fan from hell and a shops worth of beauty
products.

   The girls were still up; all sitting cross legged on the bed, chatting
away with Emily, though Emily was mainly listening rather than saying
anything.

    -�You lot, bed! -� He shooed the girls off the bed back to their
respective sleeping bags.

   They moaned and bitched, but obeyed him.  Emily crawled under the sheet,
Clive following her.  He switched off the light.  Someone sneaked back into
the bed, probably Clara again.  Emily hugged him tight, he hugged her back.
Somebody started snoring, Clive thought it was Jade.  He felt Emily -(TM)s
nose touch his, he thought nothing of the contact.  Then her lips touched
his.  He let her, thinking she just wanted the comfort.  Her tongue pushed
its way between his lips, their tongues touched.  He broke the kiss.

    -�Emily. -� He whispered reproachfully.

    -�Shhh, I need this. -�

   She kissed him again.  He felt one of her hands on his stomach.  It
moved further down, over the front of his shorts, she rubbed his cock,
which quickly hardened.  Her hand dipped inside, touched him, stroked him.
He was fully erect now and she easily pulled him out from underneath his
shorts.

    -�Emily, no. -� He whispered again, worried that if he was too loud,
that he might wake the other girls.

   Her hand left his cock, and she rolled off him.  He sighed in relief; he
was so hard and aroused.  He felt Emily bring her knees up, she wriggled,
pulled something out from under the blanket, which she threw to the floor.
The object landed with a soft  -~thump -(TM).  He felt her take hold of his
hard cock again as she moved back onto him.  He opened his mouth to tell
her  -~no -(TM) but she planted her lips against his and he felt his cock
slide into her as she lowered herself down onto him.  It felt so good.  She
placed her hands either side of his head and started to move on his cock.
It was obvious she wasn -(TM)t sure what to do, how to move her muscles. 
He felt her try different movements till she found one she liked, her jerky
motion evened out as she found her natural rhythm.  Her lips were still
pushed hard against his, their tongues intertwining.

   He knew he should be stopping this, but it felt so damn good, he was so
horny with having seen scantily clad girls and women all weekend.  He let
Emily have her way and she was so beautifully tight around him as she took
things at a pace that suited her.  Emily was starting to emit little moans
in her throat, her kissing slowly trailed off as she focused all her
attention into the movement of her hips.  Clive could hear the faint
slapping of their flesh meeting.  He really hoped that Clara had fallen
asleep.  He tilted his head over to look, his eyes met hers, gleaming in
the faint light.  She definitely wasn -(TM)t asleep.  Her shoulder was
moving.  His gaze moved down, she was rubbing herself.  He couldn -(TM)t
see exactly where, but he didn -(TM)t need to.  Emily kissed his neck as
her movements faltered.

    -�I can -(TM)t.  Finish.  I need.  To cum... -� She mumbled.  Her hips
faltered.  She wasn -(TM)t the only one that desperately needed to cum.

   Clive gently pushed her off, rolling over with her so he stayed inside.
It was his turn to place his elbows either side of her head as his hips
took over.  With the experience of years, he powered into her, eliciting
little moans with each thrust.  He looked to the side.  Clara was still
awake, still watching, still masturbating.  He felt Emily tense beneath
him, her body going ridged as her mouth opened in a silent scream.  It was
suddenly very wet below, the slapping louder.  He was close, so very close.
He felt the tingle, and then he added to her wetness.  He milked out the
last of his pleasure, and collapsed next to her.  She kissed him.  The
blood pounding in his ears settled.  He could hear noises other than those
of his own making.  A frantic rustling under the bedsheets, a whimper, then
a long relieved sigh.  The rustling stopped.

   There was a quiet giggle next to his ear followed by a whisper.  
-�Clara just came. -�

   So much for hoping that Emily hadn -(TM)t noticed that they were being
watched.  He drifted off to sleep.

   He awoke as he did most mornings at this time, to a full bladder.  He
slipped into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on so that the
extractor fan didn -(TM)t kick in.  He emptied himself and washed his hands
and around his groin, which smelled strongly of cum, both male and female.
He dried himself, pulling his shorts back up and climbed back into bed.  At
some time during the night, Emily had removed her top so that she was
totally naked.  He must have woke her up, as she snuggled into him without
a word.  Her naked body felt good against his.  He slipped back into the
darkness of sleep.

   There were quiet voices in the room.  The darkness disturbed by the glow
of smartphones.  Clive listened to the voices as he surfaced.  It was
Kaylee and Alice.  Someone had uploaded footage of their performance to
some Facebook group they were members of.  According to their whispered
conversation it had been attracting a lot of  -~likes -(TM) and comments.
Emily stirred in his arms.  Her front was pushed against his, her naked
breasts against his chest.  He watched her eyes slowly open; she saw that
he was watching her.

    -�Morning dad. -� She whispered.

    -�Morning love. -� He whispered back.

   Somebody else groaned and yelped in pain.  That had to be Jade waking
up. Clive wondered how Emily was going to slip from the bed without anyone
noticing that she was stark bollock naked.

    -�God, I need to pee. -� Emily stated matter-of-factly, and loudly. 
She whipped back the sheet and climbed from the bed naked.

    -�Morning Em. -� Alice called up from the floor.

    -�Morning. -� Emily paused to stretch her back, which popped in a
rather disconcerting way to Clive -(TM)s ears.

   Okay, so she wasn -(TM)t going to hide it then.  She didn -(TM)t bother
shutting the door either and the whole room heard the flow of liquid from
her into the toilet.  Clive rolled his head over to look at Clara, who was
awake and watching him.  She smiled at him, Clive automatically smiled
back. The tap was turned on, sounds of splashing, the tap was turned off.
The toilet flushed.

   Emily padded back into the room still naked.  Clive couldn -(TM)t help
but stare.  She was beautiful.  She rummaged in her bag, pulling out clean
underwear.  Without a care in the world, she dressed.  Clive tore his gaze
away, least he get another hard on.  The girls were all up and about now.
Clara had rolled from the bed and taken her turn in the toilet.  The door
was still open.  Clive sat up, rubbed his eyes.

   Maybe the only people that knew about what had happened last night were
Emily and Clara?  Would they stay silent on the matter?

   Clara left the bathroom, pulling her top over her head as she did so,
her breasts standing proud and firm.  She smiled shyly at him as she pulled
her shorts down.  There was absolutely nothing left to the imagination with
that move.

   He looked away to see Alice and Kaylee staring at him.  Clive wondered
if there was some sort of telepathy going on amongst the girls, the group
dynamic had certainly changed overnight.  Clara continued to get dressed,
seemingly unconcerned about doing so in front of him.

    -�Well, fuck it!  If everyone is getting naked... -� Jade said and
stripped as well.

   Alice and Kaylee looked back at each other, shrugged, and started
disrobing.

   Emily, dressed in the clubs tracksuit, came over and kissed him quickly
on the lips.   -�You -(TM)d better get dressed before Flo checks up on us.
-�

   Well fuck it, if everyone else is getting naked indeed ...  He stood and
pulled his shorts down, far be it for him to be the prude.  He was
expecting laughter, giggles, a squeal or two.  Nothing.  The girls just
carried on getting dressed, albeit with sidelong looks in his direction. 
He dressed and packed his few toiletries away into his bag.

   There was a knock on the door and Flo popped her head in, took a look
around.   -�Good, you are all dressed. -� Her head popped back out and
Clive heard her knock on door of the older girls next door.

   He waited patiently for the girls to finish packing and ushered them
outside.  He gave the room a once over to make sure they had everything,
then slung his bag over his shoulder, picked up his laptop and the video
camera with its competition footage in one hand and the tripod in the
other.

   He joined the girls outside.   -�What are you all waiting for, breakfast
awaits! -�

   They were the first down; the older girls came down ten minutes later,
followed by Flo and the young ones five minutes after them.

   Kinsley wasn -(TM)t crying.

    -�It -(TM)s because we are going home and she will soon see her mum. -�
Emily answered his unspoken query.

   Florence came over to their table.   -�Have you got your room cards? -�
She asked Clive.   -�You -(TM)re looking better this morning Emmy. -�

    -�Err yes, -� He handed over his  -�Who -(TM)s got the other one? -�

    -�I have it. -� Jade handed it over to Flo.

   Emily smiled at Florence.   -�I had a good night -(TM)s sleep Flo. -�

    -�That -(TM)s good. -�

   Flo collected the three key-cards from the older girls and made her way
to reception to check out.

   There was a steady stream of girls that came over whilst they ate to
congratulate them on their success the previous day.  Clive was impressed
at the solidarity within the community.

   Clive waited till they had all eaten, and went to collect their minibus.
He stashed his bag, laptop and camera equipment safely in the back.  The
girls were all waiting for him outside when he pulled up at the front door.

   Emily sat in the front again for the journey back.

   There was quite a crowd waiting for them when they pulled into the
Community Centre.  Someone had even created and hung up banners.  There was
a massive cheer when the girls exited the mini-bus.  Reporters from local
and national press were there, along with TV news crew.  Everyone liked an
underdog story.  The girls had to stand there, holding out their bronze
medals as the photographers took hundreds of pictures.  Clive felt sorry
for the other girls who hadn -(TM)t won anything, but they didn -(TM)t seem
to mind as they shared the excitement and revelled in the limelight, even
if it was from the side-lines.

   Clive hugged his wife, and felt a third join in.  He looked down and
wrapped an arm around Emily, encompassing her as well.

   The press continued to take their pictures.