For Connie, the worst thing about going to bed fully dressed in the early morning was waking up with the underwire of her bra digging into her skin. She shifted under the hot duvet, trying to throw it off and adjust her uncomfortable cleavage. It was no good, she had to get up and stop being lazy. One luxurious bath later, she stood in front of her wardrobe in her favourite deep purple French knickers and considered what to wear. She had the day off, but there were some things she wanted to buy in the city, Grace's Christmas present being one of them, so she needed to wear something suitable. That was when she realised. Her car was still at the hospital. She reached for her phone, cursing Michael Spence to hell. She didn't even register the lack of missed calls waiting for her.
'Well hello Mrs Beauchamp. What can I do for you?'
'Well Mr Spence, since you so kindly insisted on giving me a lift home this morning, I appear to be without transport.' She explained, looking at herself in the mirror as she spoke, idly twirling her hair around her fingers.
'Oh Connie, I do apologise. How very inconsiderate of me.' He replied sarcastically.
'Precisely. So, what are you going to do about it?' She asked, preoccupied with finding her best angle in the mirror, admiring how her breasts were still the perfect shape, the skin smooth and soft. What a waste, not having a man about the place to make the most of them!
'Well, I guess I could give you a lift to the hospital, but I need to be at the next flat in half an hour...'
'Fine, pick me up in ten minutes, you can drop me off at the hospital afterwards.'
Michael sounded reluctant, but he didn't have a chance to argue. She put the phone down with a grin. This was going to be fun.
...
'And this is the master bedroom.' The estate agent announced, leading the way to a large empty room with stripped pine floors and a vast window overlooking the river.
'Oh yes,' Connie said before Michael had a chance to stop her, 'this is perfect, isn't it darling?'
She didn't wait for a reply before turning to the young man already nervous after her performance in the kitchen.
'Michael likes a large bed, you see.' She confided loudly, 'for our little parties.'
She winked effortlessly, making the boy's cheeks blush red.
'Right, I think we've seen enough.' Michael said, stepping in to save himself from further embarrassment. 'This place is fine. I'll drop by to put an offer in later. But now, it's time to go.'
'Oh but sweetheart...'
'No really, darling.' He replied forcefully. 'Time to go.'
With that he put an arm around her waist and steered her out of the apartment as she struggled to contain her giggles at the mischief she had caused.
'Connie you are impossible.' He whispered in her ear as he dragged her to the car. She waved at the shell-shocked estate agent through the window of the 4x4 and blew him a kiss as they drove away.
'Oh don't be such a prude, Michael. Right, take me to the hospital, we need to see if my beautiful and very expensive car is still in one piece.'
'Alright, alright, anything to make you shut up!'
Connie could tell that he was amused, though, the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was giving him away.
...
Resisting the urge to pop in to the office on her day off, Connie had made it into town and was fighting her way through the festive shoppers when she left the High Street and headed down an alleyway to the toy shop where she had bought Grace her first teddy bear. There in the window, draped in multi-coloured fairy lights and silver tinsel, was a beautiful wooden rocking horse. Connie stared, transfixed, at his dapple grey patterning and long cream mane. She had always wanted a rocking horse, but her parents had never had that kind of money. Now, as an adult, she could bring a little magic into her daughter's life.
'Can I help you?' The older gentleman in the shop enquired as she closed the door behind her to the chime of a little silver bell above her head.
'I'd like to buy the rocking horse.' She said confidently, feeling suddenly like a little girl again, swept up in the madness of it. After all, the horse was probably worth more than the entire contents of her shoe cupboard.
'Ah.' He said, looking thoughtful. 'Unfortunately the rocking horse is not for sale. He belonged to my grandmother. He's part of the family.'
Connie felt her heart sink. 'Oh. Oh well, never mind.' She replied, trying not to look too disappointed. 'Perhaps I'll just buy another bear then.'
'You've been here before?' The man asked, his blue eyes twinkling kindly.
'Yes. I bought a teddy bear for my daughter here when I was six months pregnant.'
The shop keeper laughed. 'Ah yes, I remember now, you came in from a thunder storm, your face as pale as snow.'
She smiled. 'And you told me to sit down in case I fainted before I bought anything!'
What she now remembered, though she didn't say, was that she hadn't meant to go anywhere near a toy shop at all, it was a spur of the moment decision to get out of the driving rain. But sitting on a little wooden stool, surrounded by all those bears, dolls and hand-painted toys, had made her realise that it was all startlingly real; in three months time she would be sharing her life with her very own little girl.
In the end she did buy a bear, but it wasn't for Grace, it was for herself; a slightly scruffy antique Steiff with a little black button in his ear. What would the staff say if they knew that Cruella de Beauchamp had bought herself a teddy bear?
...
Thank God for Starbucks, Michael thought, as he sank into a fashionably-battered leather sofa with a cinnamon spice mocha. He needed it after all that damn paperwork he'd had to fill in at the estate agents. The flat was his – he didn't like to wait around for these things, and the owner had bitten his hand off at the generous offer he'd made earlier in the day.
He took a sip of the hot coffee and smiled to himself. He'd been a little down about actually committing to somewhere to live. Staying at the hotel, it had felt as if the situation with Annalese was temporary, and they might be able to resolve their differences. In reality, he had just been afraid to move on. He would never admit it, but having Connie there to lighten the mood a bit had really helped, even if her little game had been totally embarrassing.
He wondered what she was up to in town. He could call her, ask her to meet him somewhere for lunch. And what then? He asked himself. What was this all about exactly? Did he just want to get laid? Because there were plenty of younger, less complicated women out there who could give him that. If he did sleep with Connie, she'd only find a way to use it against him. He told himself he was being ridiculous. He needed to stay away from Connie Beauchamp and keep things nice and simple for a while.
...
Across the Atlantic ocean, in his warmly lit apartment, Sam Strachan was packing his daughter's tiny pink suitcase ready for their flight in the morning.
'Isn't mummy going to be so happy to see you?' He asked the little girl who was colouring in a picture of the Statue of Liberty on the carpet with a bright blue pen.
Grace nodded her head knowingly. 'This is for mummy.' She said, holding up the finished drawing proudly, her golden blonde locks framing her little face. He had no idea where she got that from; neither of her parents were blonde. The curls, however, definitely came from Connie's side of the family, though Mrs Beauchamp herself was firmly attached to her ceramic straighteners.
Sam smiled. It had been beyond his wildest dreams that Connie would let Grace stay with him in the States for a month, the longest she had ever been away from home. He'd been surprised that she agreed to the suggestion, but with her recent departure from Holby, perhaps she felt she needed a break to sort herself out. They weren't actually supposed to be flying home until the following week, but he wanted to surprise her, and it would be a really good surprise, if the numerous telephone calls were anything to go by.
There was more to it than that, though. There was a part of Sam that wanted to know if he really was welcome in her life, or if she just permitted his presence for Grace's sake. They had spoken over the phone, but the conversations had been short and a little awkward, especially with an excitable four year old in the room. To be completely sure he needed to see her reaction to his unexpected appearance face to face.
