"Uh-oh! Uh-oh!" came a little voice from behind her as the clatter of something hit the stone floor in the hallway. Ronnie turned to find Freddie, fresh from an afternoon dip in bath that she had been stewarding before the arrival of the Callaghans, lid in hand, but content and cup splattered all over the floor.

"What was that young sir?" she asked, having picked up her sister in law's nickname.

"Uh-oh!" he repeated, doleful brown eyes staring up at her, knowing he had made a mess. "Me sorry".

Ronnie laughed lovingly at his apology for the milk that was now seeping into the cracks. "Do you know young man, for that apology, we will go and find a cloth and mop it up and say no more to your grandpa".

Freddie looked up at her and smiled following her to the kitchen.

"Was that him?" Peter asked as he found his sister in law on her knees in the hallway, son 'helping' her dabbing his own cloth onto the stone trying to copy his aunt.

Ronnie looked up and laughed. "Take after Chummy does he?"

"She rules him with an iron rod when it comes to apologising for his accidents, but no not really, he's not as bad as she can be at times!" Peter replied. He could see clearly his wife's almost desperation to ensure that her son was his own person; not like her forever scared of causing trouble, always thinking before doing and any time there was a spillage or the like she found herself telling him, almost involuntarily, that he had to apologise even though it was most of the time a simple accident.

"What are these sisters that are coming tonight like then?" Peter asked, taking the damp dishcloth off his son as he settled the boy on his hip.

"Never met them" Ronnie replied as she was helped from the floor. "Bob, from what he remembers of them, said that they seemed perfectly pleasant. One doesn't know how they are around children, but you know Pa-in-Law would never have the children at the party".

Peter nodded, accepting the truth, hearing behind him a bell ringing.

"That'll be them" Ronnie noted, going to walk back to the kitchen.

"That's a bit early" Peter noted, surprised, taking a quick look at his watch reading almost four o'clock as he followed her.

"It's to let us get ready apparently", Ronnie replied, taking the other dishcloth off him. "Pa in Law asked so we would have time".

Peter slipped the zip up the back of his wife's dress as she stood in front of the mirror, turning left and right, not convinced the maroon dress was the correct choice. She didn't say a word to him though; knowing she had to stop doubting and once in a while trust her own judgment.

"Thank you" she whispered smiling back at him, seeing his arms slide around her waist, over her stomach and his chin rest on her shoulder feeling something shift under his hand just for a brief moment.

"Did you feel that?" she asked voice low having felt the child move herself. She'd felt this one earlier this time. "I did" he responded smiling over her shoulder. "Was Fred alright when you left him?"

"Oh yes perfectly. The Callaghans brought colouring books and crayons with them so he was off like a shot!"

Peter sighed contentedly. "So this is the day we get to meet the elusive Mrs Hamilton?"

"Yes" Chummy replied, her hands across his arms, letting out a breath as well.

"What's she like?" he asked.

"Do you know she was always nice enough" she said fairly. "But she was the staff so Mater never really let us talk to her. Not have a proper conversation and by the time she settled in I was back in London".

Downstairs they could hear the front door bell again and again and a buzz of conversation. Peter smiled to himself.

"What?" Chummy asked, curious.

"I was just thinking" he said, releasing her and going to put on his jacket that had been hanging over the back of a chair. "Your Dad".

"What about him?" she asked, looking at herself in the mirror from side to side again, brushing down her dress and checking the collar was in place.

"Marrying the staff" he replied, seeing her in the mirror as she frowned at him.

"You married me and your father is following suit".

"You're not staff!" she replied quite aghast, even though she could see where he was coming from. It was something that she had not entirely thought about but yes, indeed, her father was marrying 'below himself' if there was such a thing possible.

"Marrying across class then" he said straightening out his jacket behind her.

"Don't say things like that". She turned and kissed him. "Just please don't. You have more class than anyone down there. You can have all the money in the world and still be entirely devoid of any taste or compassion for others. Please don't say it, Peter. One cannot bear it".

He wrapped his hands around her jaw, leaning up to return her kiss. He didn't need to say a word, his feelings for her expressed in one action. "Come on then" he said. "We have people to meet".

"Chummy?" came an inquisitive voice from behind her as she took her first and only glass of champagne from the sideboard as the party was starting to get into its swing.

She turned around to find a very familiar face. "Thomas?"

"The same" he replied with a smile stretching out his hand to shake hers. It had been firmly years since she had seen Thomas - Tom - Downey.

"One didn't expect to see you here!" she exclaimed, actually happy to see at least one of her father's guests.

"I have to say I didn't either, but Mother and Father were invited so I thought I would trip along for the ride! Care for a walk away from this noise? Got a bashing headache and that twinkly music is not helping" Tom announced, trying to be heard over the din of conversation and Mozart.

"I could fetch you some aspirin?" Chummy offered.

"Do you know that would be darling. Thank you". Tom took her glass and waited by the dining room door as she disappeared somewhere, coming back with two white pills in her hand.

"Are you meant to mix these with Champers?" he asked, throwing the pills down his throat and taking a hefty gulp from the flute in his hand.

"One doesn't think so!" she replied slightly alarmed, but far too late to stop him.

"Oh well!" he shrugged. "There's a nurse in the vicinity if it all goes up the creek!"

"You are nursing still?" he added quickly.

"Yes" she replied, a touch surprised he remembered. "Only part time though".

Her wedding ring caught his eye as she raised the glass to her lips, taking a sip of champagne too, as they walked towards the open floor to ceiling windows breathing in the warm evening air.

"I see Ma Browne got her wish" he nodded at her hand.

"Well" she paused, wondering whether she would received the raised eyebrows and relentless questions again. "One would quite go that far!"

"Oh?" Tom replied, suddenly curious as to her cryptic answer. She looked at him. "Mater didn't choose him".

"Well congratulations in any event" he smiled, clinking his glass against hers, always slightly fearful of asking anything about her mother and marriage in combination. "Where are you living?"

"London", Chummy replied as they made their way closer to the veranda so they could hear themselves think.

"Just thinking of moving myself back there too at some point before Christmas" he noted. "The old work is drying up in Spain for some reason and it's time for a fresh start methinks. When was it we first met?"

Chummy thought for a second. "1948". When she thought about it, yes, it was during that time before her mother gave up the ghost of trying to arrange a suitable marriage for her daughter. "Wasn't it someone's birthday party?"

"Yes, one does believe you are right", he replied. "Can't for the life of me remember who though!"

"Me neither" she shrugged with a smile, not particularly being bothered either as it was clearly such a memorable event for them both!

"I em" Tom started, knowing he had to broach the subject one way or another. "I was sorry to hear about your Ma and her passing so suddenly".

"Thank you" Chummy replied. She had stopped crying months ago over her mother; a new baby taking precedence. No-one asked any more; no-one expressed their condolences and her ashes were in the familial vault at St Margaret's, a place that chilled Chummy to her very middle.

"You know she was always a good egg to me". It was the truth after all; well most of the time.

"Yes I know. I'm surprised she never tried to pair us off quite frankly" Chummy replied. Tom Downey had been in all likelihood the only male acquaintance or friend she had had that had not been a prospective suitor.

"I know why Chums" he said. "Do you remember when Father went to work in New York?"

"When you were living in Dorset?" she said, taking a sip, seeing Peter outside having a rather animated conversation with a friend of her brothers.

"Yes that's the one" he confirmed taking another flute of champagne from the sideboard behind her.

"I do remember. I remember Pa saying something that he'd gone so quickly and it was all a bit of a shock so it must have been a fantastic post".

"Yes well" Tom hesitated, briefly coughing at the irony of it all. "That's why I was persona non grata as a potential son in law"

"Why?" she asked, wondering why on earth his father's profession excluded him in the eyes of her mother.

"Father wasn't in New York. He was in the old nick" Tom declared.

"Jail?!" she whispered quietly, making sure that nobody was within earshot.

"Hmmm" Tom replied. "Fraud" he enunciated rolling his tongue around the letter 'r'. "Swindled the partners in his business out of thousands he did".

Chummy smiled realising. "Yes, so you were highly unsuitable!"

"Mind you, it did allow me freedom of choice to marry who I liked and when I liked" he nodded, not casting any aspersions on Chummy at all and she did not take his comments in any other way than an innocent statement.

"So you are married?" she asked.

"No!" he laughed. "Wouldn't catch me doing something like that! Enjoy my travelling far too much to be tethered to one place. So how long have you been spliced then?"

"Three years next month" she replied, thoroughly looking forward to the arrangements they had already made - a visit with Freddie to the dining rooms where they had spent hours and hours when they were going on dates and where they saw as their own special place. Where they fell in love.

"Children?" he said gesturing, clearly seeing she was expecting.

"Two" she replied, smiling. "Well will be two soon. Little chap upstairs and then this one", she replied, baby now quiet after the burst of activity upstairs, responding, she would like to believe to his or her father's touch.

"So which one's yours then?" Tom asked, looking around to try to locate what was seemingly an absent husband.

"Out there" she gesturing to where Peter was standing half way down the garden. "In the blue suit talking to Emmie and Jimmy Hayes".

"Well if that's the case and if the lady would excuse me", he said reaching around her to pluck a fresh bottle of champagne from the dresser. "It's time one introduced oneself".

He was about to step away when he turned back. "Do you know it is so lovely to see you. After all this time". He tapped her on the elbow and was gone.

Chummy sighed. Perhaps she would run upstairs for five minutes to see how Fred was doing. It was almost his bed time and everyone else seemed just so engaged in conversation that it might be an imposition if she interrupted.

As soon as she put one foot on the stairs she heard her name.

"Camilla?"

She turned to find her prospective step mother standing in the doorway to the sitting room and her heart flipped at the sight of her. So unlike her mother and so unlike she remembered her.

"I" Margaret said, moving forward to the woman who was stock still on the stairs. "I wondered if we may speak?"