"Sorry, sorry, sorry….!" Chummy uttered as soon as she realised it was Peter standing on the corner propping up the wall of the closed butcher's shop. She had practically run down from Nonnatus, no longer caring what her hair looked like or if she looked a little bedraggled. As she belted down the road, anything to make sure he knew that she hadn't abandoned him as that would be the very worse, she saw her watch tick on and on. If she had to run then so be it and so she did. "The girls cornered me!"
"Oh?" Peter asked, holding out his hand so he could take hers up. He wasn't entirely interested but he had to show enough willing to his soon to be wife. The girl's conversations – or her reports thereof - he avoided like the plague as it usually meant dresses, lipstick or childbirth and all induced temporary deafness in the Constable.
"Yes", Chummy replied, slightly out of breath as they started to walk; her actually having no idea where they were going this evening as he'd never actually said. "It's bad luck for me to see you on the eve of the wedding, all of that…."
"Oh" he repeated, glad it wasn't something important. When he'd suggested supper it simply hadn't crossed his mind that some might see it as bad luck that he should see his bride this close to the ceremony. He just thought it would be nice to have supper with her the evening before the wedding as they hadn't really seen each other all week and it was nothing more than that. His mother had said very much the same to him a few days ago; telling him just those same stories it seemed his fiancée had heard too. Peter, however, firmly believed you made your own luck and had smiled and nodded politely at his mother, still determined they would have their date though.
"Well it's hardly a traditional wedding after all so I doubt all of those daft old wives tales apply to us…" he offered as they walked along the road. He was right about that she would easily acknowledge. No white dress, no veil, no groom in tails, the bride's father noticeably absent and, as he had put it, 'Nuns for bridesmaids'.
"And one is not remotely concerned" Chummy responded as they waited to cross the road, her just following to wherever he was leading her. "Tomorrow is going to happen even if the Church falls down!"
Peter smiled as they crossed, raising his spare hand in thanks to a driver that had stopped to let them cross. Despite what he had said, he was not too keen on tempting fate and there was still the question of Mater and whether she would deign to turn up. That was perhaps a more realistic worry than some fantasy of a tradition. It comforted him that she seemed to be so determined now but it still nagged him that there was that part about objections to get past. Even in the rehearsal, although he would never admit it to his fiancee, in his head he could hear her mother's voice booming up the aisle at the very point Father Williams said those words; imagining her marching up to the altar and dragging Camilla away.
Trouble was he really didn't trust her mother not to stand up and try a final attempt to stop the wedding that way and until those words were said, and that silence had drifted away, then he would then rest completely easy.
"So where are we going?" Chummy asked, breaking him out of his train of thought for which he was silently grateful. Whilst he hoped perhaps in time he might get to talk to her properly and try to understand the fractured relationship she had with her daughter, right now things like his future mother in law made him distinctly bilious.
"I thought we might go to our usual for a bite to eat and then see", he replied, leading her left and away from the main road through one of the multitude of alley ways that scattered from side to side.
She was starting to like the words 'then see'. It tended to end in long walks or stolen kisses in corners but. above that, she did have a burning question for him. "So why are we going in the opposite direction then?"
"Bottom end of Dee Street's shut" he replied casually. "Some chap got knifed a handful of times in the chest in broad daylight this afternoon. We closed it off".
"Oh..." Chummy responded, eyebrows raised and not really knowing what to say when he sounded so blasé about it. She might have a lot to learn as a Policeman's wife.
With that news imparted, she walked freely by his side the short distance to the dining rooms where he had already reserved their booth some days ago.
Arriving, they found their usual spot shut away at the back so they could see everything and everybody. He was glued to her side and having been presented with the menu by the waitress, Chummy particularly had already decided what she wanted. Both knew these menus back to front already the amount of time they spent here so barely had to look although she only felt like something light.
"I might have steak" Peter began, putting his menu face down on the white and blue checked table-cloth. "Just thinking I've got to build myself up for the next couple of weeks, haven't I?!"
He patted his belly and saw her trying not to laugh; even though he was wearing a very large grin. Despite the fact that boundaries had been crossed there was something rather special settling his stomach about a honeymoon in her company where it was just them and nobody else in somewhere other than Poplar. Peter also felt relaxed enough around her to make potentially inappropriate jokes like that without feeling like he should just quickly dig himself a large, deep hole to crawl into and die quietly.
"You flatter yourself. You really do" she replied flatly, interrupted by a waitress bringing them over a jug of iced water and glasses who then took their order. Steak for him as he had promised himself and white fish and vegetables for her.
As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Peter shifted in his seat settling down, hearing the squeak of the brown leather underneath him as they waited for their supper. "So are you all set for tomorrow then?"
"I'm not telling you what my suit is like or what colour it is or …." she began, not looking him in the eye. He had already tried that once when distracted, she nearly ended up telling him all about her dress. The bride had to have some secrets after all and the dress was just about the only one left.
He took up her hand, a look of grim seriousness on his face and she turned to him. "I didn't mean your dress, or flowers or anything like that. I meant that you'll be there…"
She sat up straight, puzzled, but knowing why he asked. "I am not going anywhere except after our dinner, back to Nonnatus to sleep and wake up tomorrow morning, get dressed, make sure one doesn't look a categorical state and walk out of that Church as your wife".
"Good" he smiled, kissing the back of her hand. He was probably just as nervous as she was and it would probably be worse tomorrow. After everything they had been through all he wanted was, yes, indeed for her to walk out of that Church as his wife. She however had put all her worries behind her – at least as far as she could disguise them - and determination had taken their place.
Peter released her hand to take a sip of water, noticing the dining rooms were really rather empty for a Friday evening. Not that he was too concerned by that though as sometimes you couldn't hear yourself think with music playing and people talking and he much preferred the peace. Taking a quick glance around to make sure that everyone else was occupied he set his hand down on her knee, rubbing his thumb over the soft cotton of her skirt.
"Peter, stop it" she whispered, placing her hand down on his to still the movement. The memory of yesterday shot into her mind and for a moment she felt really quite all over the place.
"No one's looking." he replied, leaning over so she could feel his breath punctuate against her cheek. "They're far too interested in their supper to pay any attention to us". She relaxed for a second as she felt him squeeze her knee. Perhaps he was right. Nobody was interested and it was only her imagination running into overdrive that had forced her to place her hand on his.
"Shall we go for a walk after we've eaten?" she asked, feeling him flex his hand again as he breathed out heavily.
"Don't see why not" Peter replied, taking another deep breath as he started to wind down. "I'd rather not be dropping you back off at Nonnatus at all….."
"I can't" she responded, leaning closer to him and keeping her voice even lower than a whisper knowing what he meant as practically every date they had had these last few weeks had ended up in his lodgings but it felt different tonight in particular. "The girls will be stalking the front door for me! I daren't!"
"In just about…." Peter looked at his watch, running the numbers through in his head. "...Twenty four or so hours you will be in a room with me in Ramsgate with absolutely no method of escape…" Chummy knew he was joking and took it that way.
"Yes I know that but…." she replied, still her voice low although he did not say a word. She looked at him, utterly unable to resist when it came to it and those feelings buried deep inside her that she was meant to suppress if she thought of herself a decent girl were betraying her once again.
There was unfinished business to attend to after all.