It was whispered that quietly that Chummy thought nobody had heard her.
"Bally, blasted botherations...why did it have to snow like this today?"
"I'd suggest you ask the Man Upstairs that question" Peter responded, appearing at her side bearing two mugs of tea. He was still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown; she was half dressed in her green uniform, peering out of the top window of the Lodge onto the ground below. "It's only a bit of snow" he concluded, having watched it fall from the kitchen only a few minutes before.
"It's only a bit of snow..." she repeated sarcastically. "Its at least a foot deep if not more! You aren't the one that's expecting the Social Services today Peter. All one needs is them in a tizzy before they even step over our threshold!"
"It will be fine" he replied as she relieved him of one of the mugs, wrapping her hands around it, frowning as she watched outside the window. "How many times have you had an inspection here and passed with flying colours? More than flying colours in fact?" Peter asked.
She sighed. "Three times" she responded, "but it doesn't make it any better". She took one glance back down the ground four floors below, that orange yellow glow bathing the trees and path before she turned to him. "Where's Freddie?" She had been expecting him up long ago if he had seen what was just outside.
"Out like a light still" Peter replied, now standing by her side as he watched the fluffy flakes of snow as they fell. He could still feel her anxiety and turned to face her. "Drink your tea, have something to eat, get dressed..." he said, gently lifting the top half off her uniform that was bunched around her waist, "you'll feel better once they are here and it all starts".
"You say that every time" she responded with a weary laugh, squinting up as the snowflakes continued to fall, resting in a tiny drift against the window ledge.
"And am I right or am I wrong?" Peter asked.
"Usually right" she breathed, resisting rolling her eyes.
"Usually?!" he responded with a laugh. "Usually?!"
"Alright" she smiled, relaxing a touch. "Constantly right. Will that you better for you, Sir?" she asked.
Peter shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of tea. "Maybe".
His wife just shook her head and smiled, still distracted but trying to reserve a little of his optimism for herself. She heard the clink of his mug as he placed it onto the window ledge, a little plume of steam clouding the glass as it stood "Camilla..." he started, resting a palm on her abdomen, rubbing his thumb over the buckle of her belt.
"One knows, one knows, I know..." she replied, leaning across to receive a kiss, not fighting his attempt to deepen the caress. She needed to feel grounded and steady; the mug taken from her as she knew full well she would forget it was there and tip it on herself, or him. It joined the other on the window ledge.
Less than a handful of seconds later, a moment after she felt his palm slide to grasp her neck, a hand touched the side of her leg – a small hand and definitely not that of her husband. As the pair broke the kiss; they both looked down to find the blonde top of their son's head; resolutely pushing his way between the two of them.
"It's snowing", Freddie announced primly, on tip toes to look out of the window. He might only have been 4 but Chummy was sure he was 4 going on 50. "Mumma?" he said, looking up at her expectantly. "Can I?"
Chummy sighed. "Ten minutes but after you have had your breakfast. Coat, hat, wellingtons and gloves!"
"Mumma..." her son whined. He was after going out now.
"No Fred" Peter interjected. "Do as Mumma said. Breakfast, dressed then you can go out in the snow for ten minutes before Mumma's visitors come".
Fred just made an annoyed noise and shot off again, Peter's eyes following him, seeing him disappear into the small attic kitchen. "I'll deal with him" Peter said, turning to pick up her tea for her again, giving her the mug. The moment he was relieved of it, he leant across and turned over the crucifix that lay against her skin as it was somehow twisted around. "You deal with Social Services. You are more than capable Camilla. Don't ever forget that".
She breathed in. Matron Noakes - as she now was – knew she had done so much for this place. It was not a place any more where the girls were afraid to be. It was peaceful; like a proper home should be. His voice interrupted her thoughts. "Come on. Dressed", he said again. "You have nothing to worry about. Snow or no snow".
Chummy pressed her lips together and smiled hesitantly at him before he walked away. This may once have been a temporary arrangement all those days ago but it seemed she had found her niche. Her beginnings in Poplar were so far in the past that it might even be impossible to go back. As a nurse and mother she had grown – almost outgrown – her old self, topped up with the confidence that Peter seemed to have in her. It was almost as though she was a different person. She was certainly living a life that was not expected.
Maybe - perhaps - Aston Lodge would be the making of her.
A little more time would tell.