A/N: A story written a while ago about the Turners going to see a certain musical. Borrowing the character of Edward Monk from this-unruly-heart's Diary fic.Borrowing every other character from Neal Street Productions.
"Patrick? Patrick Turner?"
Patrick turned from the newsstand, having just purchased another packet of cigarettes. The man behind him was familiar – blond, clean-cut, grey overcoat – but he couldn't place him.
"Edward Monk," the man said. "Colin's father."
"Right, sorry. Long morning." Patrick shook his hand. "How are you?"
"Fine. Yourself?"
"Good."
There was a moment of awkward silence, as both men were unsure of what else to say. Their wives were good friends and their sons, frequent playmates, but beyond the odd Cubs outing and a picnic organized once by Shelagh, the two fathers hadn't seen much of each other. Patrick, for his part, had never really warmed to Edward; the solicitor just seemed a bit too flippant. He offered him a cigarette now, like a peace pipe, but Edward shook his head.
"Thanks, don't smoke. Just came by for a packet of gum. Listen, I'm glad I ran into you."
"Oh?" Often that sentence preceded a plea for medical advice, which he usually gave, albeit cautiously.
"Jean was going to ring Shelagh, I think, but since you're here – " he paused to pay the news agent. "Jean's mother is ill –"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need a consult?"
"Oh no. No. She's in a hospital in Leeds. Jean is taking Colin to visit her for a while this weekend. It's only we had theatre tickets for this Saturday and since we can't go, Jean thought perhaps you and Shelagh might like them."
Patrick frowned in surprise. "Theatre tickets?"
Edward popped a stick of gum in his mouth. "Uh-huh, West End. Some show Jean wanted to see. The Sound of Music, I think?"
He hadn't heard of it, though that wasn't unusual. Patrick didn't care much for musicals, and only read the front page and the sports columns of the paper on the rare chance he had the time. But Shelagh was musical and might enjoy an evening out. "How much?"
"No charge. I got the pair as a sort of thank you from a client. What do you say?"
"That's…rather generous of you." He probably should be more skeptical – he barely knew Edward, and if his experience with Fred had taught him anything, it was that free or cheap goods were rarely the bargain they seemed to be. But Edward was a respected solicitor and it was unlikely he'd get into any dodgy schemes. "Well, thanks. Let me ask Shelagh tonight, but I'm sure she'd love it. It's been a while since we've had an evening out, with the baby and everything."
Edward nodded in commiseration. "I remember those days. Just call round the house, Jean has the tickets. Got to dash – lunch meeting." He paused and a sly grin appeared on his face. "You might like the show, actually. Jean said you got on well with the nuns."
"How would you feel about an evening at the theatre?"
Shelagh tried not to roll her eyes. She currently had Angela balanced on the edge of the kitchen counter as she tried to clean the mushy peas from dinner off her daughter's face and hair. Her apron was a lost cause and would have to be scrubbed thoroughly. An evening at the theatre? That was the furthest thing from her reality. "Why do you ask?"
"I ran into Edward Monk at the news agent's this morning –"
"I didn't know you and Edward talked."
"We don't, usually. It was a chance meeting. Anyway, he said he had these theatre tickets that he and Jean couldn't use because her mother is ill –"
"Oh no, she never said. I should ring her, perhaps take something round –"
"Shelagh." He sighed in exasperation and she finally glanced at him through the kitchen hatch. There was glint of excitement in his eye so Timothy-like that she laughed.
"Sorry, Patrick." She wiped the last of the food from their toddler's face, then crossed through to the sitting room and set her in her playpen. "There. Now, what's this about the theatre?"
"Edward is giving me these tickets for absolutely nothing. It's Saturday. Do you want to go?"
She frowned, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows. "They're free?"
"It's not like one of Fred's schemes. He said he got them as a thank you gift from a grateful client. He's just passing them on, since Jean will be away taking care of her mother."
"What's the play?" she said as she settled on the couch beside him.
"It's a musical. The, um Sound of Music, I think he said? Heard of it?"
"Jean mentioned it last time we spoke," she said, taking a puff of his proffered cigarette. "Thank you. She asked if I had heard any of the music. Some of the songs are quite good apparently. Oh, and the some of the characters are nuns."
"Yes, Edward made some cheeky remark about that – said I 'got on rather well,' with them." The man's sly wink as he'd walked away had annoyed and confused Patrick. He gathered Shelagh had told Jean about the unusual beginning of their relationship, and Jean had most likely told her husband, but he barely knew the man, certainly not well enough for such ribbing.
"Well, everyone knows you are Sister Evangelina's favorite," Shelagh said with a delightful smirk.
Patrick snorted as he stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette. "We could go – if you want. I'm not on call that evening. Ask the Noakes if they can watch Angela. Tim's old enough to take care himself, or he can stay with them, too."
She sighed and leaned back as he wrapped an arm around her. "I'd love to go, you know that. I've never been to the theatre. But Patrick, are you sure you want to go? You nearly fell asleep at the last choral society concert."
"Your choice of music happened to be very soothing," he said, placing a light kiss under her ear. "We haven't had a real night out in a while. Not even on our anniversary."
Her hand curved around the back of his neck and into his hair as he peppered kisses along her jawline. "Hmm, only because one of us is rather fond of staying in."
He smiled. "If you are trying to seduce me, Mrs. Turner, I'm sorry –" he kissed the corner of her lips. "— but you're going to have to take me to dinner and a show first."
She chuckled and kissed him full and soft on the mouth. "All right then. Let's go. It could be fun."
