The darkness of the cinema closed in as music piped its way around them and for a second Chummy resisted shutting her eyes and succumbing to the weariness of her bones. The cinema was dead; barely another person there and they had had a very free choice of anywhere to sit.
With Peter's comment of 'are you sure you don't want to sit in the back row?' ringing in her ears she wished she had the nature to go along with the joke and sit there and not care. Instead she had taken him by the wrist and had chosen slap bang in the middle of the auditorium. Mind you it was that empty that you could have been up to anything anywhere and no-one would notice.
She truly was fighting falling asleep as the night wore on. It was warm; too warm and perhaps when they walked home in the cold it might wake her up a bit as she didn't want to cut their date short for any reason at all. She had also wanted to see this film though – Tom had taken Trixie and the latter had been told not to breath a word should it be spoiled – and as a consequence, she was determined to savour as much of the film and his company as she could.
By the time it was over, and the short sharp blast of cold air had greeted them both as they stepped outside, Chummy was shivering in only the way that true tiredness could bring.
"Are you sure you don't want to get the bus?" Peter asked, seeing the number 18 a good few hundred yards down the main road. It would drop them at the end of Broughton Terrace leaving not far to walk at all and he could see that she was flagging.
"No" Chummy replied, still madly determined that she would have every second of this night with him - in the cinema, on the trip home and strictly behind closed doors in peace. "I want to walk down by the canal like we used to".
"Alright. If you are sure" Peter responded taking her hand as they started to cross the street not convinced but happy to go with the flow of it all. "If we are after old times then how about a drink in The Arms as well?" he suggested, knowing it was not too far away.
Chummy smiled. She'd thrown her first dart, and sampled her first taste of beer, vodka and cider, in The Arms. Not together though! "If I drink a single drop of alcohol now, I will be definitively 'on my back' as it where".
"Why do you think I asked?" he replied, affectionately shoving her.
"Peter!" she replied, looking quickly to find that no-one was listening. "You are far too cheeky!"
"I try" he responded casually.
As they walked, ducking down side streets and alleyways that Peter knew brought them on a short cut to the banks of the canal, Chummy wondered what Freddie was up to. Hopefully by now he would be tucked up in bed, but she also knew his grandparents indulged him too much and he was probably still wide awake and it would be her and Peter that would bear the consequences tomorrow.
"He will be fine you know Camilla". Peter knew that look in her eyes a mile off.
"I know" she replied, as they stepped towards the slow flowing water, "and I know he spends a lot of time with your parents and he will be perfectly fine...probably won't even care we're not there…"
Peter smiled. He had lost count of the times he had told her just those words and every time Freddie had been fine and entirely unscathed by his hours away from them. Most of the time he would start asking when he could go back and stay another night with Nanna and Grandad as soon as he left their house and Chummy or Peter would have to put him off so his aging parents could have a break.
"Shall we sit down?" Peter asked, pulling her along, the bench where he had first kissed her was just a few yards further up and it seemed the perfect spot to rest.
She smiled and nodded and they sat hand in hand, just for a moment watching the moon light twinkle its way across the water. If this was the South coast or perhaps the Seine if they were lucky, it might have been more romantic than the local canal but Chummy found that she did not care a jot. This place held only good memories and she had learned in the past few years that romance could be conjured up whether you were sitting freezing by a canal, tucked up in bed, or sitting with the radio blathering away in the background. She had resolved that all you needed was the thought in your mind and you could create wonders with it.
"Do you know I can't believe its been nearly six years since we first walked along here" she noted.
"And I have relished every second" Peter replied, squeezing her hand.
"I never thought about it you know. What I'd be doing; whether I'd still want to be in Poplar any more" she responded quite candidly.
"But you do?" he asked, apprehension very evident in his expression. That was the one insecurity that had always dogged him from the moment that they started to spend time together. She had spoken willingly of her wish to go to Sierra Leone and, not knowing his feelings or thoughts towards her at the time, she had readily offered up her plans to him. One thing he had always noted was how determined she seemed, how she truly lit up when she talked of her dreams that would be the place where her life would be. All he could do was hope she might love him the same way and that it might make her stay. On reflection though, to her, it had all been rather simple. He will never love me or want to marry me so, why not just share that not so secret with him?
"This is home now. In three years time I will be 40 so no, this is home now" she replied emphatically before halting. "Where did you think you would be when you were nearly 40?" she asked, having never actually asked the question of him before.
"I am where I want to be. My wife, my son, my job" he replied, more than happy with the way that life had unfolded these last few years.
"But when you were younger, where did you want your life to go?" she pressed, curious.
"I don't know". He genuinely didn't. The army came as a matter of whether he liked it or not and then there was job after job he couldn't settle at, losing interest after a few weeks whether it was the greengrocers or the paint shop, girls here and there that meant little except some pretty company for a few hours. He knew it made him sound shallow and that was not the real Peter Noakes underneath it all; rather than that life's occurrences had made him that way until he found the one thing that made it all shake away.
There had only been Jean and Enid that could have meant something but they were not a patch on Camilla by any means. "I'd just like to think all along that this is where I wanted to end up".
It did all seem right. "Are we going for that drink?" he said, not wanting to think of alternatives to life as it was.
"Five more minutes?" she asked, just listening to the quiet.
Five minutes extended into twenty until they made it to the pub. Finding a subdued corner they sat close and simply watched the world go by, talking of somethings and nothings, seeing several of Peter's colleagues mixing with a few of the local troublemakers all around them and they passed a pleasant hour.
"Just need to…." Peter said, nodding towards the gents toilet across the way as they decided after their promised drink to make their way home. On the bus.
"I'll wait outside" Chummy replied, before standing outside in the increasingly cold night air. Now she was cold, properly freezing cold, and there would be no arguments from her - she was not walking all the way back to Broughton Terrace. No Sir.
Chummy rubbed her arms. Even under dress, cardigan and coat she was feeling the chill again. Still breathing in the night she barely noticed the small group heading towards her. She just about registered it was two men and two women, talking and laughing happily; probably two couples on a night out so she let them pass by her as they continued to walk along, hearing just a snippet of their conversation. Behind her Peter appeared through the pub door and it shut loudly behind him.
"Ready?" he asked seeing her firmly nod, his attention only on her as they both turned away in the opposite direction from the group. "Come on then, missus. Homeward bound".
One of the woman stopped briefly and looked back, catching the voice and a glimpse of the back of the couple as they walked away, arm in arm and deep in conversation that she could not hear.
'No can't be' she thought to herself, seeing them speed up probably heading for the bus that was pulling up on the other side of the road.
'No, hearing things I am' she concluded and turned back, trotting the few paces she had lost in her moment of distraction back to her friends. The voice still lingered in her mind though as her night wore on and it burned slowly at her.
Had she heard right after all?