I'm always cheered by the kind reviews, so a big thankyou as ever. Here's the next instalment, hope you enjoy …
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Chapter 2
"Saturday night, Bols. Me and you. Nice restaurant. Wear something posh."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Sounds lovely. Where are you taking me?"
He pouted at her.
"Now that'd spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?"
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It was the beginning of February, a light dusting of snow lay on the pavements and New Year was long forgotten. Alex was getting ready for their big date, putting a lot of effort into her appearance even though she had no idea what the occasion was. Four month anniversary, maybe? Whatever it was, she got the feeling it was important to Gene, and that was enough for her.
He picked her up on the dot of seven, well wrapped up in his long coat, and she slid gratefully into the warm passenger seat of the Quattro. She'd dressed to impress more than for comfort, and her long clinging ivory dress and matching stole weren't doing much to keep the cold out. It'd had been worth it though, just to see the unconstrained desire in his eyes as they raked over her.
"Bloody Hell. Yer scrub up well, Bols."
She'd just smiled serenely, but she had to admit she loved the effect she was having on him.
They pulled up on the opposite side of the road to 'Chez Marcel', and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She'd always wanted to come here but never had the opportunity, and it was the last place she'd expected Gene to bring her to.
Her eyes were shining as he walked round to the passenger door and offered his hand to help her out.
"Shall we?"
She beamed at him.
"Gene. What a treat! Unless we're really going to the chippy down the road, of course …"
His lips twitched.
"Wouldn't 'ave made yer get all dressed up fer that now, would I?"
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Their table was discreetly positioned in an alcove affording them a view of the other diners but a reasonable amount of privacy at the same time. He pulled her chair out and once she was comfortably seated removed his coat and handed it to a nearby waiter. Was that a new suit, she wondered? Charcoal grey with a pale blue shirt and a matching silk tie which brought out the colour of his eyes to perfection. He looked good enough to eat and she almost suggested they skip dinner and rush straight home. Only almost, though. She was going to enjoy this.
Their waiter approached with menus, and offered them an aperitif while they browsed. And now came the second big surprise of the evening.
"Un pastis pour moi, et un kir royale pour madam, s'il vous plait."
Alex's chin practically hit the floor. The Guv did not speak French. In fact, he was known to have hit people who did.
"OK, who are you, and what have you done with Gene Hunt?"
He flashed her a genuine smile, slightly embarrassed but clearly proud of himself.
"Been teachin' meself, at least enough ter get by tonight, I hope."
She reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it gently.
"Gene, you are full of surprises. And you never have to do anything to impress me, you know. You do that just by being you."
"Just wanted tonight ter be special, Bols."
The waiter returned before she could ask him why, and he waited for her to order first.
"Le potage du jour et le coq au vin, s'il vous plait."
Gene cleared his throat and spoke up confidently.
"Les escargots, et un steak frites. Bien cuit, s'il vous plait."
He ordered a decent bottle of Burgundy to accompany the food, and the waiter bowed, his eyes lingering on Alex's cleavage a couple of seconds longer than necessary as he removed the menus with a flourish.
"Merci, monsieur …'dame. Bon appetite."
Alex raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Snails, Gene?"
He tried to look nonchalant.
"Just thought I should try 'em, once in me life at least …"
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The first two courses had been declared delicious, and now they were taking a pause while they decided whether to tackle a dessert or not.
"Yer know the rules, Bols. Starter, mains and a pud. No givin' up now."
He smirked at her, and she toyed with the stem of her wineglass, meeting his silver gaze flirtatiously.
"But I'm already full Guv, and if I eat too much I'll just fall asleep before bedtime. And we don't want that, do we?"
His lips twitched.
"Don't worry yerself about that, luv. I'm sure I can find some way of keepin' yer awake later …"
In the end they shared a delicious lemon soufflé, and she made sure to lick the spoon lasciviously, enjoying watching him suffer.
The coffees and liqueurs arrived, and she thought she detected a tension in him that wasn't there previously. He took a deep breath, his long fingers fiddling with a napkin.
"Just wondering, Bols. When did yer last see yer daughter?"
She sighed and her heart constricted. Why did he have to ask about Molly? Especially tonight when she'd succeeded in forgetting, just for an hour or two.
"It's been … a while."
He didn't meet her eye, clearly trying to choose his words carefully.
"Alex, wherever she is, we could find a way to visit, yer know."
She knew he was just trying to help, but suddenly the evening was spoiled and she felt hollow inside.
"I don't really want to talk about it, OK? Not now. Not tonight."
"Look, if yer ex is being a bastard, there's ways ter sort it. It's not right fer a mother ter be parted from her child, the courts know that."
Tears started to prick her eyes and she blinked several times, digging her nails into her palm.
"Please, Gene. Just leave it, will you?"
"Let me 'elp, luv. I've got contacts."
He reached across the table for her hand, but she withdrew it, aware of the tear trickling down her face.
"Believe it or not, Gene, there are some things even the all-powerful Manc Lion can't sort. I need some air, I'll see you back at the car."
She stood, throwing her stole around her shoulders and stalking out of the restaurant, and he watched her leave with a distraught expression on his face. He sighed heavily, brows furrowed, running his fingers through his hair distractedly. He hated seeing her unhappy, all he'd wanted to do was help, but it had back-fired on him badly. Well done, Genie boy, you've well and truly messed it up now.
He waved the waiter over.
"Forget the champagne, mate. Just fetch me the bill, will yer?"
As the man wandered off to comply, Gene reached into his inside jacket pocket. The little jewellery box containing the ring was still safely nestled there. Some other time, he thought sadly …
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My French is a little rusty, so if it's not perfect, many apologies. Although it would be quite appropriate if Gene hadn't got it spot on anyway!
All feedback is most welcome, as ever. And a Happy New Year all round. :)