I found more cherry drops!!! And Kate has had a mars bar!
Having endured the montage of hits, some distinctly lacking in Christmas references, it was time for Wes's year to perform. As the opening bars to Imagine echoed through the hall, both Harry and Ruth jostled about in their seats, craning their necks to try and catch a glimpse of the small blonde haired boy they both adored. It didn't help that they were all similarly dressed in John Lennon style outfits, with round glasses partially hiding their faces. It was Ruth who spotted him first, a massive grin claiming her face as she watched him sing and sway to the music with his class mates. In her excitement, she had automatically reached out and captured Harry's hand, squeezing his fingers as she momentarily took her eyes from the stage and pointed him out to Harry.
"He's the fourth one in from the left," she murmured, above the singing.
"How did you manage to find him when they all look so alike?" he asked incredulously.
She was saved from answering when the woman in front of them turned and offered an amused smile. "A mother can always tell which one is hers. Don't worry," she said to Harry, "my husband once failed to recognise our son on stage without fancy dress!"
"Oh e-er..." Ruth began to stutter an explanation, realising as she did so that it was too late; the woman had already turned back to the stage, unaware of the impact her words were having on the couple sat behind her
Having accused Ruth of being broody not so many minutes previously, Harry reasoned that it was somewhat hypocritical of him to now be entertaining thoughts of them having a child together, but he couldn't help it. Their nosy companion in front had planted a seed which was now blossoming as he pictured them with a little girl, who looked adorably like Ruth.
Ruth watched him out of the corner of her eye and wished, not for the first time, that she knew what he was thinking. There was an expression of longing on his face and she wondered briefly if his thoughts had followed a similar path to her own. She was stopped from speculating any further by the sound of applause and looked up just in time to see Wes trooping off the stage.
Dropping Harry's hand, she rushed to join in the applause, enthusiastically clapping as if she was trying to be heard above the din and making her hands sore in the process.
Mercifully, the interval followed soon after Wes's appearance and they were able to extract themselves from the throng of the crowd and disappear backstage. By unspoken agreement, they sought out Wes and showered him with praise. All too soon, however, they were told it was time to change in to their costumes for the start of the second act.
The pair of them slipped to one side, mingling amongst dozens of changing performers, and graciously turned their backs to each other as they began to dress. Cautiously, he turned around as he finished dressing, relieved – although not necessarily pleased – to find her fully dressed. He was still half fumbling his way into his shirt despite nervous thumbs slipping on buttons when he noticed a peculiar look on Ruth's face. She looked petrified, as if biting down on her emotion.
"Nervous?"
"Petrified. I feel sick," she admitted.
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "You were wonderful earlier. I have every faith in you."
She returned his smile. "The show must go on, hey?"
---
Standing huddled just off stage, the jaws of Jo, Malcolm, Ros, Zaf and Adam had collectively dropped with military precision by the fourth line of the song. Rogue factions of the crowd were already wolf whistling Ruth and the routine was going down a storm, but more than that, the tension fizzing off the stage was like nothing they'd ever seen, even on the Grid.
Having missed the sexual foreplay that was their earlier rehearsal, the team were completely unprepared for the raw energy which seemed to emanate from the performance and there was a united gasp of breath as the song swelled to its ending and the final notes were sung with nearly touching lips.
"Bloody hell," whispered Zaf. "The book's closed."
---
Panting heavily, and after no less than 4 minute's continuous applause, Ruth and Harry left the stage, shaking with adrenaline.
For Ruth, it was almost more than she could take. The cocktail of emotions coursing through her were fast destabilising what was left of her composure, and the though of having to endure the stage with him – in his arms, no less – for another half an hour, was making the butterflies in her stomach attempt wild gymnastics. Both we making a slightly less modest and more rushed attempt to change costumes in time to be back on stage for the Nativity within the space of one song.
"Are you ok, Ruth?" he asked, noticing she'd come over all peculiar again.
She nodded; forced; jaw clamped shut.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded again. "Hic!" She bit her lip as her hand clamped over her mouth. "No," she mumbled. "I should have mentioned earlier. I sometimes get the hiccups really badly when I'm nervous."
Tears were actually forming in her eyes as she spoke. "Oh God, I thought I'd be better once I got the first performance out of my system." She neglected to mention that certain elements of it were to blame for her even more heightened state. "Please, Harry, what am I going to do. Don't make me go on, I'm going to make a fool of us."
"Ruth," he placed an awkward hand on her shoulder, and the warmth of it was more than welcome. "You're not going to embarrass either of us. Have you tried taking some deep breaths?"
She nodded the affirmative.
"Holding your breath?"
She nodded again.
"Ok, I'm going to fetch you some water. Stay here."
She leant against a costume rail as she watched him leave, and visibly startled as it rolled away behind her under her weight. Even that didn't cure her hiccups, although at least the powers that be had had the good grace not to let Harry be watching as she made a fool of herself.
A minute later, he returned, plastic cup in hand. "Here, sip that slowly. We still have the rest of…" he strained his ears to listen and pulled a face "…the strangled cat's parade, then another number, then it's us."
She laughed, and let out another loud hiccup before beginning to sip.
"It's not working," she said, eventually, chucking her cup and a black rubbish bag. "I can't go on with the hiccups, it'll ruin everything."
"I only know one thing that always cures hiccups."
"What?"
"You have to totally forget about your breathing; just let go and not think about it at all."
"Okay? How do I do that?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course," she replied, thinking that was a bit of an odd question.
He nodded at her, as if still checking some unspoken understanding.
"Harry?"
"I'm sorry, Ruth, I didn't want it to happen like this."
His warm, broad palms felt firm and possessive against her cheeks, which flushed with nerves and excitement, and in an instant his soft, full lips were massaging against hers, gently insisting they part for him. She willingly acquiesced, although more than surprised at his actions, and almost sighed into his mouth as she felt the tip of his tongue move past her lips to explore her own. They continued in this fashion for some minutes, not really aware how long, only aware of the taste of each other's mouths, and the sensations they were creating with their rhythmic kisses and strokes of their tongue.
Please review, we haven't got enough medication for me yet and if Kate has another mars bar, she'll need some too!
