XI. Meet the Family

On Saturday, they planned to celebrate three months of the first encounter. He booked a table in a restaurant in Kensington and at 7 o'clock rung the bell of Breta's flat, and, waiting for a sweet kiss, closed his eyes and tilted his neck up. The door opened, but instead of a kiss, he heard a voice from above, 'You're Robin, I know!'

He opened his eyes. In the doorframe, smiling down at him was standing a blonde looking pretty much like Breta, but slightly younger and without Breta's lovely bosom.

He recognized Breta's little sister: he'd seen her photos. But even if he hadn't, he would never be in doubt. Who else could be this beautiful blue-eyed blonde head and shoulders towering above the door in front of him?

'Hello Kristina, I didn't know you're coming.'

'Breta didn't also,' her English, though certainly weaker than her sister's, wasn't that bad. She stepped aside invitingly, 'Come!'

He stepped in as she 'hided' behind the open door with a childish shy smile blossoming high above it.

'We find cheap tickets for the airplane in internet and did Breta surprise,' explained the girl. 'Nick coming soon, but father stay at home: he busy on job. But mama is here'.

Indeed, as he entered the living room, he saw a woman sitting at the table. She saw him too, gave him a big smile and stood up. She was in her forties, very good looking - the same blonde hair and blue eyes, and she wasn't that tall. Well, comparing to her young daughter anyway: she was only up to her shoulders. Girl told her something in Swedish, he understood only two words, 'mama' and 'Robin', and she gave him her hand: 'Astrid.'

'Mama don't know in English,' said girl, he nodded, named himself and took her hand. Now, as he stood right in front of the woman, he realized that he was wrong. She was tall. In fact, she was very tall, six feet seven or eight inches easily - he stared directly at her breasts. The excuse for his first impression was the fact that she still should have been much shorter than Breta, and his judgment of what is tall and what is short now based purely on his supertall girlfriend's height.

'Nice to meet you Astrid. You know, it's exactly three months today that I've met your lovely daughter, and we were going to celebrate the date, so please be our guests.'

As girl translated his short speech, he thought, it could be a problem to get her in the restaurant: as far as he remembered, she was a teenager. He shared his concern with her and received a good laugh as an answer. 'I go to bars when I was 11 years old!' she declared proudly. 'No drinks, I like dance. But don't say this to mama.'

She was still laughing when Breta came in. 'Hello my dear,' she automatically lowered herself to his level and kissed him. 'I see, you already met mom and Krista?'

'Yeah, and I invited them to join us, but don't you think Kristina is too young for that?'

'No, she's a good girl and behaves. And if you're concerning about her proof of age, than I can assure you, she won't need it'. She stood next to the sister. 'Look, she's only inches shorter than me, and I don't remember being asked for ID in the bars for ages.'

She was right: the top of Kristina's head came to Breta's nose, and all of a sudden, he thought that he was gonna be the shortest in the company. No, that wasn't correct: he was gonna be completely dwarfed by these three towers! He found the idea amusing, but at the same time, he wasn't sure that he could cope with the women whose combined height must have been more than 22 feet. Four and a half times more than his own 5'5"! That's what the word diminutive really meant!

Black cabs - the London taxis - are famous for their spacey cabins that can be used by five adults simultaneously, and high roofs built to fit ladies in huge hats and gentlemen in cylinders. But even a black cab was struggling to accommodate them. Half of the company - Astrid and Robin - made themselves comfortable on the folding seats at the front wall that was separating cabin from the driver while two towering sisters sat on the back, tilting theirs torsos and not knowing where to put their legs. Robin couldn't help but stared at Breta's knees towering above his own by good eight inches. The sight sent a sensation of irresistible desire, but it obviously wasn't a place to satisfy it. When they got out at the restaurant door, the girls immediately straightened up to stretch theirs necks and spines, and one should have seen the drivers' face. He wasn't just surprised or even amazed, he was totally shocked. Robin couldn't blame him: he knew that from aside he looked like a mushroom in pine forest.