So Edith started telling Bertie about Marigold. Or rather, she started telling him about Gregson, the things she had left out when she told him how she had inherited the magazine and the apartment.

But Bertie interrupted her almost immediately.

"You can tell me about this if you want to, but you don't have to", he said. "I don't think this is the best place to tell any sensitive things, with waiters interrupting and perhaps overhearing."

At that very moment - almost to confirm Bertie's words - the waiter chose to come up to them to clear the table.

...

"So, let's talk about other things for the time being", Bertie said when the waiter had left them again to fetch their second course. "What has happened in your life since we last met?"

So Edith started to tell him about Mary's wedding. She didn't tell him about her quarrel with Mary right after he had left, though. That was one of those sensitive things that could wait. Instead she asked him about Tangiers.

The rest of their meal passed pleasantly by in the same way.

Bertie was talking about how it had been at the memorial service and how much he had missed her that day. But also about what it had been like to fly in an aeroplane. Edith told him about what had happened at the magazine. She made him laugh by telling him how she and Laura had found out who their agony aunt was.

After the dinner was finished and they had got their hats and coats, an awkward pause followed. Edith hadn't actually accepted his proposal yet, had she, Bertie thought. He'd better not jump the gun again.

"Can I walk you home?" he asked.

"Of course", Edith said. "We still have things to talk about."

"You can tell me about Marigold if you want to", Bertie said. "But you don't have to. It's enough for me to know that she is your daughter."

"Of course I will tell you!" Edith said simply.

...

So they started walking together and Edith started telling him about Marigold. Or rather - the things she hadn't told him before about Michael Gregson. Which wasn't much, she had already told him most of it, all except that one night in Michael's bed.

"And then well, he disappeared in Germany as I have already told you. And I realised that I was expecting a baby."

After that she was quiet, wondering if she could tell him the most sensitive thing of all. The doctor in London and how she had wanted to end her pregnancy.

"Do you know what I love most about you and Marigold?" Bertie asked her before she had managed to decide. "That Marigold is still there with you. That the first thing you asked me when I proposed to you that night was if you could bring her. Even if you couldn't admit that she is yours, you haven't given her up either. And I'm sure that if I had said you couldn't bring her you would have refused me at once that evening. It is things like that makes me want to have you as my wife."

Edith listened to him in silence. She was certain now that she had to tell him the whole story. She wanted him, and she wanted him as close as only a total truthfulness and understanding can make two human beings. She didn't want any lies - big or small - in the middle of her marriage.

"I wanted to give her up", Edith said. "I even went to one of those doctors... you know the kind... but I just couldn't go through with it. Then I went to Switzerland with my aunt, to hide the pregnancy and have the child adopted by someone there. But I just couldn't do that either."

"I'm so glad you didn't get through with any of that ", Bertie said. "And if you have done it all because you couldn't do it any other way, that makes you even more precious to me. You and Marigold both."

"I breastfed her", Edith said, stopping at the pavement, looking up into Bertie's eyes, willing him to understand how important that had been to her. "Before that I felt her little feet kicking inside me. My body turned into that of a ... a walrus for her. I gave birth to her and - well it did hurt some. Then I breastfed her. She was my baby for nearly half a year after she was born. So I refused to sign the adoption papers - I said I needed to think for a few months more. I went back home but all the time in England I was thinking about how much she probably missed me. When I didn't think about how much I missed her..."

Bertie got tears in his eyes hearing all this. He took a quick look up and down the street - there was no one around. Then he took his hat in his hand and bent forward, touching her lips softly.

To his delight Edith threw her arms around him and kissed him back with all the enthusiasm he could have wished for. Perhaps she had missed kissing him just as much as he had missed kissing her.

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for the nice comments to last chapter - so long ago.