She was on the periphery of a conversation again. Sitting on the floor next to Trixie leaning against her own bed, but she had been that quiet these last few minutes that it may never have mattered if she was even there, as the three gossiped and played cards to while away the wait for a new call.

"So who was it?" Cynthia asked, curious to hear more of Trixie's story. They had moved to issues of the personal kind and Chummy still nursed her first cup of coffee that was rapidly going cold; not really feeling in the mood to move onto a subject like this. She never had much to contribute when the talk went to clothes, boys (well, men) and music.

"Thomas Robinson. Aged eleven at the back of his uncle's sweet shop", Trixie smiled at the memory; well more what she got out of the arrangement than anything else! "He promised he would buy me yellow Jelly Babies if I let him".

"So you're affections were bought?!" Cynthia smiled, teasing her.

"I'd hardly call it that!" Trixie replied, noting Chummy was really rather quiet. "I barely remember the kiss. It was a rather comfortable business arrangement...I was more interested in my sweets! So how about you then?" Trixie teased taking up a biscuit.

"I only remember his name was Bobby and he lived over the road", Cynthia replied. As for rest of it, it was just a soggy recollection and quite frankly being repelled by the whole business that it was not something she would readily repeat for a number of years to come.

Trixie smiled and turned to Chummy who had propped her head up on her hand as she leant against the bed, dreading the question that was going to inevitably come and she could see it teetering on Trixie's lips. "So go on then Chummy! How about you? Who was your first kiss? Some dashingly handsome General's son I don't doubt?"

She could randomly mention some name and pick a scenario cover herself up - there were that many to choose from - and all it might result in a few silly questions, but trouble was, she couldn't bring herself to lie to her friends and tell them an untruth. Mr. Nobody was her first when it came to it.

Peter hadn't even tried to kiss her and now, numerous dates down the line, she was wondering whether he ever would. Unable to help the nagging in her mind, wondering if she was really that unattractive after all and even someone as nice to her has him didn't want to touch her.

"I don't know" Chummy replied with a sigh. "One is yet to meet him".

The confusion on Cynthia and Trixie's face was apparent. "Not even Peter?" Cynthia asked quietly seeing Chummy shake her head.

"It's you telling him you want to be a missionary. I told you that would put him off!" Trixie exclaimed. Why on earth would you tell someone on your very first date that you had plans to take religion to another country? If that wasn't a problem she had no idea what was.

"He likes you Chummy" Cynthia carried on, Chummy feeling the gentle touch of her friend's hand on hers, not understanding truthfully as she sighed really wanting to talk about something else. It was another thing that made her feel so very inadequate, particularly as she liked him so much.

"Does he?" she replied quietly.

"Of course he does" Cynthia replied, quickly, before Trixie could say anything more. "I don't think you see the way he looks at you". Chummy had seen it, that almost indiscernible longing, or at least to her eyes it was indiscernible and she was really quite unsure. To others it may have been a waving scarlet red flag, but she really couldn't see it.

"Has he even held your hand?" Trixie asked, wondering if their shy policeman was even more diffident than they thought.

"Oh!" Chummy replied. "Yes, of course!"

"Well that's alright then" Trixie smiled. "But really? No-one before him? Not even one of those chaps your mother tried to shoehorn?"

Chummy shook her head, feeling rather embarrassed by it all. "But one was really quite glad about that". Extremely glad if she was being honest about it. Not one of them might she have loved, or even for that, liked to spend time in their company as though she was meant to be grateful for them deigning to relinquish a moment of their precious time to spend with her. At least Peter seemed to want to be in her company and they did have rather agreeable times together when they did.

"So when are you next going out?" Trixie asked.

"Friday" Chummy replied. "We're going the pictures. He's coming to collect me".

"So there's your chance!" she exclaimed in response seeing Chummy's confused face, rolling her eyes briefly. "Do I really have to spell it out?!"

It was that nice nervousness that skittered around in her stomach as Friday evening rolled around and she waited for him in the kitchen. Only Sister Bernadette was in and, thankfully, having not been privy to the conversation the other day, her only questions were about the film they were going to see and whether Constable Noakes' eye was any better from last time he was there. He'd been sporting the results of a fight and with a blackened and bloodshot eye he had picked her up to go for a walk last Sunday, seeing the Sister's horrified faces at the state of him as turned up at the door.

Peter arrived today, right on time, and no, his eye was still horrific, yellowing at the edges but still horrific.

"Did you speak to Dr Turner?" Chummy asked as they walked along the canal bank, arm in arm, interested in finding out if he had been to see him for treatment.

Peter nodded. "He just said to take those pain pills you gave me and try witch hazel". She knew and she had some herself in the bathroom cabinet so she would get it for him.

"Can I look at it?" she asked, wanting to see the injury properly.

They both sat down on a bench and, with both palms on his face, she turned it gently towards the light. He was far too keen to be looking at her and she couldn't see.

"Look upwards" she whispered, see the blood soaked whites of his eyes as he stared at the sky. "It still looks awful…."

"It feels awful" Peter replied, looking at that every morning in the mirror for nearly the past week and trying not to sleep on that side as it only made things worse. He missed her touch the moment she took away her hands.

"What time does the film start?" she asked.

"We've got nearly half an hour" Peter replied, glancing at this watch, knowing the cinema was only a short walk away now. "I'd like to stay here for a while".

Chummy smiled and nodded, reaching across to brush away a drop of water with her thumb that had slipped from his eye in response to her examination. She didn't think it an act of affection until he brought his hands up, taking hers from his face and kissed her palm. "Thank you" he smiled.

"That's quite alright", Chummy replied, insides turning circles at this new development. Nursing was natural to her and it had been entirely ordinary to gently brush her thumb across his face, not thinking in an intimate gesture at all.

"Peter?" she asked, the question burning in her throat and she needed to inquire. "Who was the first person you kissed?"

He looked at her curiously and just that touch surprised. "Where did that question come from?" he asked thinking it somewhat out of the blue.

"The girls and I were talking the other day about it, not about you, but I just wondered..." she responded, Peter simply now assuming she was just curious or interested and she now realising it was an enormous mistake to ask. These were things that he supposed couples were meant to know about each other though so he was prepared to answer.

"Daisy" he replied. "I think her second name was Dean. Yes, that was it, Daisy Dean. I think we were eight". He smiled and shook his head at the memory of it in the school playground, staring down at their entwined hands.

Chummy smiled, closed mouthed and he could tell she was uneasy. "So who was yours?" he asked, feeling brave.

There was that question again and she swallowed. "I'd like to think it might be me" Peter began. "But that would just be…." He just shrugged as though it was so highly unlikely that it was even silly to think of.

"It will be you. Perhaps" she replied, so quietly he was not sure what he was hearing.

"It will be me?" he asked. She was looking down too where he still held her hands, not daring to look him in the eye, seeing almost in slow motion his fingertip rise to touch her chin. "It will be me?" he repeated. Chummy didn't miss it was still a question rather than a statement.

She nodded her head, eyes pressed closed together for a moment. It was almost as though her breathing had stopped at the touch of his hand and as much as she may have wondered if he would, what it might be like, now she had confessed, she almost wanted to run. Peter had never understood why she wasn't married already the way he saw her but equally as glad that she wasn't.

"Can we walk up the cinema now?" she asked quickly.

Peter nodded and withdrew his hand, standing up feeling her slip her arm into his, mind wandering as they walked. He wanted to, certainly, but if he did he might have to tell her he wanted to marry her and he knew that might frighten her away if her response to his question was anything to go by over something as simple as a kiss.

The film and the walk back to Nonnatus was considered in relative silence and he delivered her to the door, just like every time before as he walked her up the stairs too.

Chummy felt him squeeze her hand, his usual act of goodbye before he left her, but this time though he didn't let go immediately. "What you were saying before…" he continued, staring at their feet before he looked up."What you were talking to the girls about…."

"Just ignore it Peter. It was talk" she replied, hoping it was enough of a dismissal to turn him away.

"No, no, no" he replied shaking his head, having thought it over. "Thing is….I'd like to be that person. The first person to…."

With that, she felt his palm snake along her jaw and just the lightest of touches on her lips. Another wall came tumbling down and to his relief he saw a shy smile.

"I was thinking" Peter began, his hand still resting on her cheek. "Next Friday, would you like to go to the dance or go and have our supper?"

"Anywhere but the dance" she breathed as his thumb moved gently over her skin.

Peter chuckled quietly. "Somewhere else it is then". He kissed her again, pressing his lips to hers more earnestly than before, feeling a return. "Goodnight Camilla".

"Goodnight" she whispered watching as he bounced down the stairs and closed the door behind her, half wondering now it was all over what on earth she had been worried out. She took a handful of steps to find Cynthia and Trixie at the kitchen table.

"So how was the date?" Trixie asked, her voice jolly and perhaps a little too interested.

"Lovely" Chummy replied, as it was. She had no objections to how it had unfolded, even if she didn't count the events on the doorstep.

"How's Peter?" Cynthia questioned.

"Still got his black eye, but no, he's lovely too" she replied, hands resting on the back of a chair, intent on going upstairs.

"So…." Trixie began, looking quickly at Cynthia for support. "Nothing else to report?"

Chummy thought for a moment. Would she tell them? Dare she tell them? No she wouldn't. "No" she smiled, hoping her face was not giving her away, "Nothing at all". She had decided to stop worrying what other people thought and think about herself for a change.

And think about the fact that she wanted him to do it again.

FIN