Come What May
Chapter Ten
Regardless of the words she and Bert had exchanged with each other, Mary couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her duty and continued to care for Michael throughout the week. Each day he got a little better, but he still needed her. Whenever she had to be a nanny to the Banks family she would sit by Michael's bed whilst Jane went to school, the days were often quiet as the boy slept – this gave Mary too much time to think things over. She did feel guilty and she felt stupid – she didn't know why she was contradicting her own fears; the prospect of childbirth and all of the terror that it could bring with it still terrified Mary, yet here she was doing something that could gift the exact same fate. Maybe she did it because the risks were slightly lessened? She really had no clue. But she didn't want to abandon her duty or neglect Michael when he really needed her; after all, she was their nanny and she took so much pride at her job. It was what she excelled at.
But she felt somewhat defeated. Perhaps Bert was right, perhaps she was stubborn? She wanted to weep. Things had been flat between them over the last few days; she didn't think that they were angry with each other, but there was definitely tension. If their eyes ever met one of them would soon turn away and break the connection, they spoke to each other less and less – their words did not carry the meaning and emotion that they were accustomed to. She couldn't even remember the last time she kissed him. She threw her head down into her hands, she began to wonder why he was being so cruel to her, but upon asking that question she realised that she was the one being cruel to him. He cared for her and the baby more than anything else, yet here she was putting herself in danger – knowing how much that hurt him.
But she was stuck in an ocean of turmoil – and she was drowning. Anyone would give her the solution as if it were an easy one: that she should not return to the Banks household until it was safe for her, that she should return to the arms of her husband and apologise. But it wasn't that easy for Mary. It never was. Mary took her duties so seriously, anyone else would've happily taken time off until it was safe, but Mary didn't think she could bring herself to do that – her work meant so much to her. It was her pride and it was her identity – she treated her employment with the upmost respect and she'd never let anything get in the way of it in the past; after all, she was currently four months pregnant and still had no desire to stop working. She used to pride herself on her resilience, but she was starting to hate herself for it. There was a reason for why she worked so selflessly and she did want to lose sight of it.
When she returned home that evening she found Bert sat at the coffee table sketching, as she came through the door he looked up and managed to give her an uncomfortable smile.
"Evenin', Mary" he said plainly.
"Evening, Bert" she replied. It pained her to have them act in this way, "Michael's getting better" she added.
"I'm glad" that part was true; in spite of everything, Bert still loved the Banks children.
"I think he should be right as rain within a few days…" she could seem the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes, "…but he still needs me"
That was what killed the glimmer – extinguished it like water over a dying flame.
"I see…"
God, she hated herself right now.
"Bert, I -"
"—You don't need to explain yourself again, Mary" he said flatly – he could feel his chest aching.
There was that turmoil again – she felt utterly suffocated by it all…and the pain on Bert's face broke her heart. But what was she to do? Both her options would cause hurt for somebody.
"I'm sorry, Bert" she almost whispered.
Bert closed his sketch book and moved past her so that he could store it away in the spare room.
"I know you are" was all he said.
"It's not a crime to care about somebody, Bert" she was rarely passive aggressive.
"Believe me, Mary, I know that…"
It was true. Mary wanted to care for Michael and Bert wanted care for Mary. Bert moved towards the apartment door.
"Where are you going?"
"I promised Tommy that I'd 'elp 'im take on a large job with 'is apprentice…"
She knew that he was telling the truth, but in the past he never would've taken a job this late and left her. That's what hurt, but she couldn't blame him, at this point simply being around Mary was causing him a whole world of emotional suffering. She felt wicked.
"Okay…stay safe"
"I will…don't wait up…"
"Bert -" she injected just as he was about to walk out the door. He turned back to face her,
"I'm going back to the Banks family tomorrow"
His expression twisted with confusion.
"You're not scheduled to work on Thursdays…"
"I know…"
"Mary, is that really necessary? The boy can survive without you for a day" his tone was still stoic, like he had lost all the passion that once lay within him.
"You know how I feel about all this, Bert…"
"An' you know 'ow I feel…" they discussed the matter no further, "…I'll be back in an hour or so"
Those were his final words to her before he left. He never would've allowed her to see it, but as the door closed behind him several tears began to irritate his eyes and flow down his cheeks. He stood outside of the apartment with his back against the wall and simply cried, cried until it hurt. Why was she doing this to him? And why was he doing this to her? He loved Mary more than anything else, he just wanted to protect her and their child…he had tried for days to understand the blind loyalty that she held for her employment, but he just couldn't fathom how she could risk the health – and potentially the life – of both her and their child. They were both cold with each other, but it was evident that they didn't want it to be that way, but they were both defending their side. Bert was desperate to wrap his arms around Mary, kiss her and forget the whole thing, but he didn't think he could do it knowing that she would return to Cherry Tree Lane – he cared for her so much that he would struggle to be content with such a decision. He suspected that Mary too wanted to resolve things, but knew that she would be hurt if she had to do what she considered to be abandoning her duties. It seemed as though they were stuck like this and it was unclear as to when it would all be over.
Bert eventually made his way out of the building to meet the sweeps. The December air hit his face like a thousand knives and his teary cheeks felt like they had been slashed repeatedly; he shoved his hands in his pockets and briskly walked through the city – hating himself more and more with each step her took.
Mary practically collapsed onto the bed as he left and it didn't take long for her own tears to fall. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to go on like this, she was hurting him so much…she could understand how ridiculous her decision may seem, but to her, her job was just as important. She laid back and stared up at the ceiling, she could feel her muscles tense – she seemed like a stiff board against the softness of the mattress. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, questions and conflict, it was as if there were separate voices in her head – each one trying to reason with her, convince her to go in a certain direction; but she didn't know which one to trust. She continued to cry.
0oooooooooooo0
Bert returned home exhausted. He had hoped that the extra job with the sweeps would've taken his mind of things, but it just seemed to make him feel worse. He was noticeably distracted the entire time and soon he was consumed with guilt. He gone with the sweeps because he couldn't face her, he could bear the atmosphere between them – he felt weak and pathetic for feeling such a way. He silently scolded himself every second, telling himself that he was a sorry excuse for a husband, that he shouldn't have had the audacity to unnecessarily leave Mary just because her choices were hurting him. He cared for her, so he convinced himself that he should've stayed home. But at what cost? So they could sit there and just make things worse between them?
He snuck back into the apartment and was greeted by a heavy silence, it wasn't overly late but Mary was already asleep. The moon wasn't providing much illumination, but what it did give framed Mary angelically. Bert rubbed his forehead and sighed. He moved over to the window and let his eyes fall lazily over London's glowing streets.
"I'm such an idiot" he whispered to himself, "Why am I doing this to 'er?"
Mary felt her eyes flutter open – but she didn't move an inch.
"I love 'er more than anythin' else, yet I'm treating 'er like dirt…just because she's upset me…"
Mary listened carefully.
"Am I really being that unreasonable?…I'm only upset because I care about 'er…I just wouldn't be able to bear it if something 'appened to 'er…can't she understand that?" He paused, "Can't she understand that I only want what's best for 'e?r…I've told 'er that a million times, she knows 'ow I feel…guess we'll just 'ave to wait for it to pass…"
Mary could feel herself tearing up again and squeezed her eyes shut. Bert moved over to the bed so that he could sit beside her, her caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers and drank in her beauty. Eventually, he leant over and placed a feather light kiss where his had once been.
0oooooooooooo0
By the time Friday was around Mary was delighted to find that Michael seemed to have made a full recovery; after spending an extra day with him yesterday, she had suspected to discover such a result. Still, they didn't allow Jane to sleep in the nursery for another day – just to be safe. But it delighted her to see him well again for a huge array of reasons, she obviously hated to see him so sick and seeing him smiling and up on his feet was like the first arrival of the spring foliage; but she also knew that this could be the beginning of the end of her conflict with Bert. Well, she hoped that it meant that. It was clear by now that they had both been stubborn – perhaps her more than him – and that they were both desperate for it to end. She promised herself that she would make it right. Still, Michael had been kept home from school that day so she had the whole day to waste away with him.
"I'm afraid today isn't going to be much fun, Michael, your mother has given me strict orders to keep you indoors until we can be sure that you've made a full recovery"
"But I'm feeling so much better, Mary Poppins -" he ran over to her and placed her hand on his forehead, "—see, feel my forehead, I don't even have a temperature!" he announced excitedly.
"Well, that's all very wonderful, but rules are rules, Michael Banks"
"I know…" he said sadly.
"But don't worry, I'm not going to force you to do anything, you can spend the day as you please…within reason of course"
Michael seemed to ponder that statement.
"Can I ask you a question, Mary Poppins?"
"You may"
"Why didn't my mother want you to look after me?"
Why did he always ask the difficult questions?
"Well, because I'm having a baby it means I'm more likely to become unwell, and if you're unwell when you're having a baby it can be a bit unpleasant" she said tentatively.
"So, you could've gotten sick like me, except it would've been worse for you?"
"So to speak"
"And mother was worried that you and the baby were going to get sick"
"Yes, that's right"
"But you decided to look after me anyway?"
"Of course I did, Michael, I'm your nanny, it's my job to look after you"
"Mother could've done it…or even Ellen"
"Well, your mother and Ellen are very busy people, that's why I'm your nanny"
"Were you worried that you were going to get sick like me?"
"Perhaps just a tiny bit"
"Was Bert worried too?"
Of all the things Michael could've possibly asked, that was what he chose.
"Yes, Bert was very worried" she admitted.
"But you came here anyway?"
"Yes…you see, Michael, you know that I care about you and Jane a lot, so I wanted to make sure that you would be okay"
"Thank you, Mary Poppins"
Mary knelt so that she could hug him. A few moments passed before Michael spoke again,
"Can I ask you another question?"
"Of course" Mary chuckled.
"When are you going to have your baby?"
Mary smiled.
"In May"
"How many months is that?"
"Five" Mary told him – she ignored any thoughts of panic.
"Does having a baby hurt?"
"I'm not sure, I've never had one before"
"Will you let me know if it hurts?"
Mary laughed.
"Okay, I'll let you know" she smiled.
0oooooooooooo0
As Mary walked back to the flat that evening – surrounded by the darkness of December – she had never felt more nervous. She found it hard to collect her thoughts as her purposefully slow footsteps pounded through the snow. She could feel the heaviness of her eyelids, but she suspected that her exhaustion did not stem from her laid back day with Michael Banks – instead it was the unknown. She hoped with every fibre of her being that she could resolve things with Bert, or at least make a start, but she knew how much she had hurt him with this entire ordeal. She didn't think that he'd never forgive her, but this path was so clouded that she didn't know what to think. She decided that wading through the sea of possibilities in search of an answer was futile, so she did her best to block out the thoughts as she got closer to the place they called home. She felt her stomach shift uneasily.
She made her way up the stairs – as fast as her growing stomach would allow her – but found herself stalling at the door. She felt ridiculous, it wasn't as if Bert would be fuming with anger…but she was still scared, she'd rarely fought with anyone – at least not in this manner, but she had definitely never fought with Bert before. She wasn't even sure if it could be called a fight…but whatever it was, it hurt. With a deep breath she opened the door. Bert had been sat sketching at the coffee table, but he jumped to his feet at the sight of her.
"Mary…" he breathed.
"Hello, Bert"
Their voices seemed to have emotion again. They stood far apart and in awkward silence, it seemed they were both searching for a solution.
"I saw Jane today, she says that Michael 'as made a full recovery"
"He has indeed"
"I'm glad to 'ear it"
"It is a relief"
Another long pause.
"Listen, Mary, I wanna talk to you…" slowly, he took a few steps towards her, "…I wanna apologise, I was bein' way to harsh on you an' I never should've been so cruel to you, I should've talked to you properly instead of running away from it all…I'm really sorry…"
Mary closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his body- she buried herself into his chest. She felt his arms slip around her delicate frame.
"Oh, Bert, you have nothing to apologise for…I don't think I truly realised it until now, but you only wanted me to be safe, and I was being so foolish and so selfish by not listening to you…" she was crying now, "…can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?"
Bert kept his arms around Mary, but took a step back so that he could look into her eyes.
"Mary, you don't need to apologise either -"
"I do…I was so narcissistic about the whole thing that I lost sight of what really mattered…"
"Mary, I know that you would never want to put our baby at risk…we all make mistakes"
"So, you forgive me?"
"Of course I do…"he cracked a slight smile, "…but only if you forgive me to?"
"I do"
He pulled her back against his body, buried his face into her neck and held her as if he would never let go – he would hold her for an eternity if he could.
"I love you so much" he whispered – his tone was slightly desperate and it echoed against her skin.
"I love you too…and I never want us to fight again"
They were consumed by their sense of unity – it was a feeling of safety, the very same feeling that made their hearts flutter and their heads spin. It was that feeling that made everything seem possible, for they had each other's strength. They were a shield for the other. But it felt stronger this time, they had just defeated a hurdle – it was like a broken bone, it's stronger once it's fixed. They felt as if they could transcend all that was humanly possible, time, space – like they could break through the limitations of being human. In this moment, everything felt warm, fresh and almost new, like they had unlocked a new door – a new pathway for them to explore. They revelled in this revelation – in this stronger part of their love that they had discovered.
Then Mary mumbled into his chest,
"I haven't let you down have I?"
There was still the tiniest part of her that felt as if she'd betrayed him in some way…Bert kissed her neck.
"You could never let me down" he told her simply.
0oooooooooooo0
Saturday was a day that overflowed with relief and happiness – it was confirmed that Michael had definitely made a full recovery and with a bit of pleading, Mrs Banks had granted him permission to go out with Mary and Jane. But, Winifred made it absolutely clear that he was not to be out for too long – through fear of him becoming ill again; this was a concern and an order that Mary whole-heartedly agreed with. She ensured that both children were well wrapped up and she decided that she would take them to see Bert perform – since he couldn't draw pavement pictures in the snow. She could see Michael's eyes gleam as they walked through London – like he was seeing a new world, she loved how much his home meant to him, how fascinating it was to him – it was a trait that she valued in everyone. He walked enthusiastically with his sister but they were a few steps ahead of Mary – but she enjoyed watching their joy. The sky was clear that morning and the air was free of any falling flakes, but London was still a picturesque beauty that was buried in blankets of dazzling white snow.
Mary felt herself wearing a permanent smile, things seemed practically perfect, she had overcome her troubles with Bert and her life seemed to have returned to that small spec of paradise within the spectrum of life. She couldn't and wouldn't have asked for anything more. She rested a hand on her stomach as she walked – her bump was less visible under her thick coat – but hiding it was on the cusp of becoming a pointless act. But she didn't want to hide it. A few people had stopped to watch Bert, but due to the cold weather most people – understandably – kept moving past; although, many were kind enough to toss a copper into his hat – which was placed neatly by his feet. But she knew that Bert never minded if people didn't donate their money or even stop to listen for longer than a few seconds, she knew that he mostly played his music at the park because he enjoyed it so much; he viewed music as a beautiful creation and the most generous of gifts.
Bert was playing his guitar that morning, and the sweet sound of the acoustic strings filled the air with their smooth melody – like a rush of warmth, it was almost palpable. It was as if the guitar was speaking in its own musical language – if so, its tongue was gentle and calming. It was practically hypnotic. The instrument in question was made of a simple wood that glistened in the limited winter sunlight – but it stood out amongst the snow like a rustic beacon. Perhaps the only thing more mesmerising was the sound of Bert's vocals – his voice was deep and smooth, the kind of voice that had the power to sooth somebody into a slumber but always awaken them like a pulse of electricity. Maybe it was unusual to call the singing voice of a man beautiful, but Mary couldn't think of a more perfect description. His melody rolled between the bodies of those who watch and down into the snowy streets – it carried such a positive aura, it just made people want to simply smile. And they did.
Mary and the children stopped amongst the small crowd and watched as Bert was engrossed in his performance, he could feel each lyric and every single sound was delivered with such emotion. His fingers plucked the strings gracefully and with such talent – like he was born to do it, everything he did seemed so fluid and effortless. It was a true art form and a pleasure to watch the creator at work. When his song came to an end there was a gentle applause and Bert smiled graciously.
"Be back in a minute folks" he announced politely as he moved towards Mary, "Mornin', you three!" he greeted cheerfully.
"Morning!" the children replied.
"Mr Michael Banks, it's good to see that you've made a full recovery"
"Mary Poppins took good care of me" he said proudly.
"Of course she would!" he smiled.
"You're ever so good at playing the guitar, Bert" Jane complimented.
"Why, thank you kindly! I started it up some years ago – not too long after Mary, actually" he smirked.
"It would appear that you've got some regulars" Mary nodded towards the group of street boys that Bert had written poems about – that seemed like so long ago.
"Mornin', fellas!"
"Fancy playin' another song, Gov'na?" the one with sandy blonde hair asked politely as he threw a copper towards Bert – which he caught.
"I sure will – I got a nice calm number that I'm sure you'll all enjoy, might warm ya up a bit" Bert smiled as he took his place at the centre of the crowd, but he stopped and Mary saw his face light up mischievously. "I've got an idea…Folks, I would like to invite my lovely wife Mary to sing this next song with me!" he announced and gestured towards her.
Mary felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She lingered for a while; normally she was never one to do such things in public – excluding when she was with the sweeps – but there was something about the smiles from the crowd, the gleam in Bert's eyes and the seemingly perfect day gave her a new attitude. She stepped towards Bert and joined him in the spotlight.
"I'm sure you're gonna love this, folks…mostly because my wife's singing voice is far better than mine!" he chuckled. He began to strum his guitar intricately.
The song had a lengthy instrumental introduction, but the melody was so beautiful that it made time seem irrelevant. Soon they began to sing sweetly together,
"Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.
I know not what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then;
But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.
It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an angel's psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm."
Bert purposefully let his own voice die down so that Mary's stunning octaves could lift into the air and fill it with their sweetness. Her voice was utterly angelic and had the power to stun people into silence.
"It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife;
It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.
It linked all perplexed meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loth to cease.
I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,
Which came from the soul of the organ,
And entered into mine.
It may be that death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again,
It may be that only in Heaven
I shall hear that grand Amen."
There song came to a powerful - yet gentle – end and there was a moment of silence as the crowd drank in the beauty of their song – it was breathtaking. Soon applause and even a few cheers were gifted to them and the pair blushed. Several donations were dropped into the hat and Bert made sure that he thanked every single patron. The crowd began to thin slightly, but the street boys were sure to remain.
"'ow about somethin' more upbeat?"
The boys cheered in response.
"Wanna join me for one more, Mary?"
How could she deny his smile?
"Go on then" she chuckled.
0oooooooooooooo0
Mid December arrived like a thunderous wave and the snow showed no sign of leaving the London streets, it continued to flurry throughout the city it beautiful patterns that seemed to hypnotise people. Bert and Mary spent one particular Sunday lazily, they had a flame alive in Bert's tiny fire place but spent their time drinking tea and talking whilst they cuddled into each other on the small sofa. Their day was quaint and perfect. The gentle flicker of the flame provided a friendly glow from its intricate and spasmodic dance, it made the room feel warm – regardless of its unimpressive size. It was like a hug. Mary found herself playing with Bert's hair as he spoke.
"Is my 'air really that interesting?" he teased.
"Quite" she joked, "I was thinking the other day –"
"- About what an 'andsome 'usband you've got?" he smirked at her.
"Yes, dealing, you're the only thing that ever crosses my mind!" she said in a mocking tone.
"Good!" laughed Bert.
"But there was something else I was thinking about…"
"What was that?"
Mary smoothed her other hand over her stomach and cuddled further into Bert.
"Well…we haven't discussed any names yet…I don't know if it's too early or not – perhaps it's rather late – but it feels odd that the baby doesn't have an identity, or a potential identity, so to speak"
"You know, I've thought of that a few times too…oh, the daughter of the Knight family has advised us to name it after her!" he laughed.
"We could do…what's her name?"
"Madeline"
"Hmmm, it's pretty" she smiled.
"'Course, we could name it after one of us?"
"Have a second Mary or Bert crawling around?"
"Maybe…or their opposite sex equivalents"
"What would they be?"
"Well, I think the male version of Mary is…" he paused, "…Mario? Mark?"
"And what would it be for Bert?"
"Uhh...Bertha?"
"Do you think we should think of a new name?" she chuckled.
"Yeah, I think so!"
"Are there any names that are special to you, Bert?"
"Well, my sister's name was Alice…but I never liked the way 'Alice Alfred' sounded…too many 'A's"
Mary laughed.
"Okay, so nothing alliterative then"
They sat there quietly for a moment – digging through the deepest parts of their minds for ideas.
"We could name 'im after the king?"
"George?..." she pondered, "George Alfred…it has a nice sound…but what if it's a girl? You remember what that boy said to us, don't you?"
"Then it'll be Georgia!" he smiled.
"Elizabeth is quite popular" Mary noted.
"So is William"
"Perhaps Isobel?" she continued.
"Or perhaps Harry?"
"You seem quite sure that it's going to be a boy" Mary noted.
"No, but you were suggestin' girls names so I thought I'd cover the remaining fields" he smirked, "what about Violet? That's your favourite flower, innit?"
Mary blushed slightly.
"You remembered?"
"Of course I did" he smiled.
"Violet is very nice…but I feel like it's a bit materialistic to name a child after one of your favourite things"
"Think of it as bein' sentimental"
"Because they were the first flowers you ever gave me?" she smiled.
"That's right" they gazed at each other for a moment, "D'you really think it's goin' to be a girl?"
"I'm not sure…maybe call it woman's intuition?" she joked.
"Okay then, well my man's intuition is tellin' me that you quite like the name…Charlotte"
"I do…one of my first charges was called Charlotte – she was a lovely young girl, shy but so kind for her age…she had a sister too"
"What was 'er name?"
"Clara"
"Hmmm, very nice" he said in a mocking business tone.
"You know, there is one name that I have always liked…" Mary began.
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"My late mother's name…" she insinuated.
"Evelyn" Bert answered correctly.
"Yes"
They smiled at each other for a while before Bert placed a light kiss on the top of Mary's head.
"I like it"
0ooooooooooooo0
Christmas was right around the corner and Bert and Mary made sure that they lived off of the bliss of the occasion. They had spent Christmases together in the past, of course, but this would be the first year in which they would spend it as more than friends – as a married couple no less! They wanted to make sure it was something special. They'd bought themselves a moderate Christmas tree – it wasn't anything spectacular, but it managed to dominate the whole of Bert's flat and gave off an alluring scent. They giggled and chatted merrily as they attached candles and decorations to the luscious branches; they hung delicate and colourful trinkets that epitomised elegance; but it also gave their apartment a cosy and homely feel to it. It was like a warm embrace. There were two presents wrapped in quaint brown parcel paper sat underneath the tree and Ivy ribbon was draped throughout the room – it made it seem like they had their own secret forest. Bert had also 'conveniently' hung some mistletoe above the door – an action that earned him a humorous eye roll from his wife. Soon the place was overflowing with holiday vibes.
"You know, the place don't look 'alf bad!" Bert commented with an approving smile, "But did we really 'ave to do the whole thing ourselves…couldn't you 'ave just snapped your fingers and made things a bit easier?" he half joked.
"Now, Bert, where would be the fun in that?"
"Well, I dunno about you, but watching objects move by themselves is pretty fun to me"
"Even after all this time?"
"Mary, I don't think you'll ever stop surprisin' me" he smiled.
"Good" she smirked.
"See, you do get a kick outta seein' people react to your magic!" he laughed.
"I assure that I experience no such thrill"
"I don't believe a word of it, sweetheart!"
"As I have said time and time again, I do not enjoy making a spectacle of myself" she tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth were tugging into a smile – she couldn't fight it.
"Oh, yeah? Then why do you always end up flyin' when we're with the sweeps, or takin' your charges on adventures that go beyond even the imagination of a child?" he smirked.
"That simply occurs as a result of my generosity"
"If you say so, dear"
"I do" she chuckled slightly.
Bert took another moment to admire their handiwork.
"You know, I think this might just be a perfect Christmas!" he announced.
"Oh, do you?"
"I do indeed!"
Mary wrapped her hands lazily around Bert's neck and his hands travelled to her waist – they stayed in this loose embrace as they gazed at each other and spoke.
"Tell me, Mr Alfred, what did you have in mind for this perfect Christmas of yours?"
"Well, Mrs Alfred, I believe that the simplest things are the best…perhaps just a quiet and cosy day by the fire, a present or two and a nice goose for dinner; after all, they do say it's the time for joy and family"
"My, my, you're a regular Charles Dickens, aren't you?" she teased.
"Well, you know me, always tryin' to spread the love" he laughed.
"Oh, yeah? Who have you been spreading the love too exactly?" she joked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, the usual people, the sweeps, the boys that come to listen to me play music, Mrs Corry…even Admiral Boom!" he smirked.
"Anybody else?" she insinuated.
"Nobody so far…but there's still plenty of time left" he winked.
"Bert Alfred, you're such a tease!"
"You love it!" he laughed.
"I do not" she joked.
"Are you feelin' a little left out, Mary?"
"Oh, not at all -" she teased him, "—I can't expect my husband to show me any affection when he's so busy giving in to the whole of London" her tone carried a slight laugh. She had a spark in her eye.
Bert leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck, then her jaw, then her cheek before finally bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was made of passion and their lips moved together fluidly.
"Better?" he asked – his voice almost a purr.
"For now"
0oooooooooooooo0
They had been invited to a party on Christmas Eve at the Banks household and when they arrived they were amazed by the festivities, they had the grandest Christmas tree imaginable and it was covered from head to foot in dazzling decorations – everything from ribbon to cornucopias. The candles that stood proudly upon it were lit and they became glowing orbs of light – like beacons. A roaring fire was alive and well in the drawing room and the entire house seemed to glow a festive gold. There was a huge array of guests all dressed in their finery – they sipped champagne or eggnog and chatted gleefully, it seemed that everyone of every field was there and were relaxed.
"Bert, you really don't have to avoid the champagne on my account" she said – although she was incredibly touched by his chivalry.
"Nonsense, if you're not allowed to drink, then I'm not going to either"
"You really are a diamond" she said softly.
He slipped his arm around her waist – in a socially acceptable fashion – and smiled down at her; his eyes were filled the same adoration that had always been there. She returned the look and was momentarily lost in his sapphire eyes. It wasn't until Mrs Corry made her way over that they both snapped back into reality.
"Hello, dears!" she said cheerfully.
"Good evening, Mrs Corry" Mary greeted.
"I haven't seen you two since your wedding, have you both been well?"
"Fine thank you" Bert said.
"Everything okay with you, Mary?"
"Yes, perfectly fine, thank you"
"I'm very glad to hear it – I must admit I was quite shocked when I heard that you were expecting, Mary"
"So was I!" Bert joked.
"Your Uncle Albert was the one who told me – not too long before the wedding, I do hope you don't mind"
"Not at all, Mrs Corry, you've been a good friend to us all" Mary said sweetly.
"Listen if there's every anything I can do for either of you, well, you know where to find me"
"Thank you, Mrs Corry" said Bert.
"We really appreciate it" Mary added.
"Well, it's just good to know that things seem to be settling down for you both; it must have been so difficult?"
"Well, it was a bit of a shock at first -" Mary said honestly, "—but I think we've done rather well so far"
"Listen, I won't keep you, but I'm so very happy for you both, I'll see you later" she smiled as she walked away.
"Your Uncle Albert was never any good at keepin' secrets" Bert joked – Mary let herself laugh quietly at his comment.
It was then that Bert spotted a slightly aged gentleman eying him from across the room, he wore a dark suit and an almost ridiculously oversized top hat; he twirled his moustache between his fingers and kept his gazed pointed at Bert. The look was not malicious, more like intrigue – but it made Bert feel uneasy; he had no idea who this man was - he'd never seen him before. Bert tried to convince himself that his observer had simply let his mind drift and wasn't aware that he was staring – but that suspicion was put to rest as Bert remained the focus of his look for some time and at several points throughout the night.
"Bert? Bert, darling, are you alright?"
He snapped back into reality.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine"
"You don't look fine"
He paused.
"Well, I'm probably just bein' stupid, but there's a fella over there that's been staring at me for ages…"
Mary subtly looked across the room.
"The one in the obnoxious hat" Bert informed humorously. Mary spotted him instantly, and he was indeed fixated on Bert.
"Perhaps he likes your suit?" Mary joked.
"Maybe…I dunno, it's just makin' me feel uneasy…an' I know 'e knows 'e's doin' it!"
"Did you work for him once?"
"No, I've never seen 'im before"
"Maybe he's seen you working before? He could be a fan of your artwork?"
"Maybe…"
That's where their discussion ended – not that Bert felt reassured in any way.
The rest of the evening was pleasant, but uneventful, although, in light of the past few months, Mary and Bert were grateful for that. They left the party fairly late, but the empty streets of London – with nothing but the fallen snow for company – were beautiful; their peacefulness allowed them to see such a different side to the city. Seeing London when it was calm was truly sensational, in those moments, it became a completely different world; a world where nothing ever went wrong, or when nothing ever could go wrong. It became a world where everything was calm and nature and industry lived in harmony. It was an experience that Mary and Bert had lived through many times, but it never lost its magic.
They wrapped their arms around each other as they walked and observed the way their breath hung as tiny clouds around their faces. Bert's foot slipped slightly on an icy patch –which almost sent both of them crashing to the ground.
"Do be careful, Bert, I'm not in the mood for snow angels!" Mary laughed.
"I've still fallen over less than you!" he teased.
"Firstly, the instances in which you're referring to were not me being clumsy, I was feeling faint due to the fact that I'm carrying your child, secondly, I've never actually fallen from such symptoms"
"You nearly 'ave!"
"Exactly, nearly" She smirked.
Bert nearly slipped again and Mary found it hard to contain her laughter.
"These streets are lethal!" Bert exclaimed humorously.
A few moments passed before Mary spoke quietly,
"Bert…"
"Yeah?" he could hear the change in her tone, it almost seemed sad.
Mary took the time to considered her words,
"Do you ever wish that things could've been different between us?"
Bert stopped walking immediately and turned to face her.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you ever wish that things had been a bit more…normal for us?...Instead of us sleeping together, do you ever wish that we'd courted instead and that we would've planned our marriage and children?"
"Mary… -"
"—I don't regret any of this, Bert, I'm happy with our life and I wouldn't give it up, but I think Mrs Corry made me truly realise how much things have changed in such a short amount of time…so I was just wondering…"
"I don't know where all of this 'as come from, but let me say this, you are Mary Alfred, you're my wife and you're the mother of my child, an' I don't care 'ow we got 'ere, what matters to me is that we are 'ere…I would walk through fire if it meant I could 'ave a life with you, Mary…an' I'm not exaggerating"
"But what if everything had been so much more straightforward? What if we never had to worry about how to handle this pregnancy or hiding the fact that our child was conceived out of wedlock?"
"None of that matters to me, Mary, if I was told to choose between a simple and straight forward life without you, or a complicated life that involved bein' married to you…well, I'd pick you every time"
"I'm sorry for asking such things, Bert…I don't think I'm as confident as I used to be…"
"It's okay…" he soothed, "…we all 'ave our weak moments"
They began to walk again.
"You definitely don't regret it, Mary?"
"Not a single moment"
They were interrupted by the sound of a chiming clock and all twelve beats announced that Christmas day had finally arrived – and as if by some miracle, it started to snow at that exact moment. It was the most perfect example of magic either of them had ever seen.
"Did you do that?" asked Bert.
"No" she breathed in response – they were both mesmerised.
The flurry fell with confidence and each flake spiralled in its own unique way, they dusted over their coats – as if to pass on some of their magic, to keep it alive. This glorious moment in time seemed to be perfect. The snow continued to envelop them like a natural veil and they allowed their lips to meet tenderly.
"Merry Christmas, Mary" he whispered.
"Merry, Christmas, Bert"
I know this wasn't the most eventful chapter, but I've got lots of good stuff planned for the next few! Hopefully they'll be exciting!
For anyone who's interested, the song I used in this chapter is "The Lost Chord" - a popular Victorian song from 1877.
Thanks so much for all the support and kind words - it means the world to me when you tell me that you're enjoying this story! 3
Please leave a review! xxx