Tugging the short skirt down over her sheer tights didn't make any difference to the way she felt in the dress, she was still horribly afraid that it made her look as if she was touting for rough trade round the back of Kings Cross. It'd looked great in the changing room mirror when she'd bought it, short, very short, and tight, made of stretchy black velvety stuff that clung to her boobs, her flat stomach and her bum. It wasn't the most expensive dress on the rack, as usual she'd had no money to speak of, but she'd felt that it suited her and made her look sexy, but now she was turning this way and that trying to see herself from a lot of different angles and wondering whether it just looked cheap in more ways than one. It was times like this that she missed her Mum and especially her Nan who would have told her the truth, no matter how harsh it sounded. She was very tempted to change into her usual jeans and put a scoop neck top on with them, because she really wasn't sure any more.

Not having seen hide nor hair of him since he'd run away from her, she didn't know whether they were even speaking or how things were going with his wife, she knew it was very selfish but she kept hoping and praying that it hadn't gone well, although she would have thought he would've called or come over to Shoreditch if that was the case. It'd been more than two weeks without a word, but she surely hadn't imagined what was between them the last time she'd seen him. Lovely Stan had been several times, and Robert, the one with the glasses, was there every day, but he wasn't very friendly; the bloody old witch hadn't shown her face at all, but then neither had Charles and she missed him.

Doreen had told her that he and Stan were definitely coming tonight, the one called Robert would be there because he was making the 'nice to have known you, now please shove off' speech, and Molly really hoped that Doreen hadn't got it arse about tit as she sometimes did. Other halves were included in tonight's party and Molly was one of the very few who were going on their own, it wasn't that she couldn't have dredged up someone to go with, she could, but she didn't want to be shackled to someone else if he came on his own, which Doreen had said he was going to, or at least he hadn't mentioned a plus one.

That was what the dress was all about, and the sheer black tights and putting her hair up in a messy, curly topknot, then putting make up on, then washing it off, then putting it back on; she wanted to look different to usual so that he'd notice her and maybe regret what he'd missed when he ran away. She knew he'd fancied her at that moment, well she could hardly have missed it, and she fancied him, really fancied him, but she didn't want to look like some old slapper who was gagging for it.

The response to her appearance by her workmates and their partners was gratifying, even old Bert sucked his teeth then wolf-whistled loudly as he circled round her pretending to be dazzled. Doreen swept away any doubts she'd had about her dress, saying that she looked gorgeous, like someone off of 'X' factor or some pop video and that she should wear a dress more often and to not to be so bloody silly when she'd said she weren't sure. "If you've got it, you flaunt it and you've got it' was the consensus opinion, which made Molly feel a whole lot better, that, and the very large vodka and coke she'd necked as soon as she'd arrived, her courage and confidence were rising in direct relation to her blood alcohol level.

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Persuading Stan that it made sense to take two cars over to Shoreditch hadn't been easy, but Charles had every intention of offering Molly a lift home so that he could be alone with her when he told her about Rebecca and him and probably about what had happened with Samantha as well; he wanted to explain why he hadn't been able to put in an appearance for a couple of weeks, and that it wasn't because he didn't want to see her, because he did. He told Stan that it was because he'd probably need to push off before proceedings finished to get back and let the puppy out, which sounded completely lame, even to him.

Stan had shaken his head and smiled and Charles had a horrible suspicion that he could see straight through him and knew exactly what was going on, and actually, he didn't care if Stan had worked something out, he was going to find out a lot of stuff sooner or later, especially if he was successful in persuading her to let him take her home. He could feel his grin getting wider and wider when he saw her, despite trying to suppress it by biting the inside of his bottom lip; it kept escaping all his attempts at control. She saw him and beamed back, dispelling all his fears that she would be mad at him for staying away all this time, it was only when he got much closer that he realised that the glass in her hand was by no means her first.

"How are you?" He wanted to put his arms round her and apologise if she'd been waiting for him, she kept saying that she didn't think he was coming and he wasn't sure why, he hadn't realised that he was late.

"I'm good" She was trying her best to focus slightly squiffy eyes on him "We 'aven't seen you for a while, where you been?"

"I'll tell you later" The last thing he wanted to do was to explain everything that had been going on in front of an audience which included Doreen, Karen and Bert and a whole group of people he didn't recognise, probably some of the printers and everyone's partners, so he changed the subject the only way he could think of "Can I get anyone a drink?"

"I'll have a vodka and coke please" Molly waved her empty glass at him as he raised his eyebrows and decided that a vodka and coke without the vodka was favourite, it looked to him that she'd had more than enough already. It was as he'd expected, she didn't notice the lack of vodka as she sipped from her replenished glass although Doreen winked at him, so it was obvious that she'd guessed what he'd just done and approved, which made a change from the last time he'd spoken to her.

"Do you like me dress?" Molly had obviously reached the level of blood alcohol that meant that her sift, sort and check mechanisms had broken so that the brakes between her brain and mouth had failed "I bought it for you, wanted to look sphisti… sophris ….. you know, a bit smoother than I usually do, so you would see me like you do them others" Charles laughed uncomfortably as the people around them shuffled a bit, then moved away slightly "I think I'm a bit pissed" Her face was totally serious, curly tendrils of hair were falling over it which she was trying and failing to blow away and her green eyes were huge, but unfocussed, as she stared at him and he longed to put his arms round her and hug her.

"Yep, I think you are a bit" Charles laughed as he tried to move her away from their fascinated audience because much as he tried to keep his voice down, she didn't seem to have any volume control and for the group around them this was providing real entertainment. He tried to give her a hint by dropping his voice to a whisper "and I love your dress"

"Do you?" She beamed, obviously thrilled, then frowned as if puzzled "What you whispering for? I was a bit worried that I looked like a brass in it"

"You could never look like a brass" He'd managed to move her a bit further away from the group "Who are these others you're talking about, the ones that are sophisticated?"

"Your wife for one"

"Yep my wife's sophisticated but she's not my wife anymore, we're separated, getting a divorce, we never got back together" It seemed very important, somehow, that she knew he hadn't slept with Rebecca "She's gone back to live with her parents so she's getting half a house she didn't pay for and I get the dog" He wanted to add 'and with a bit of luck, you as well' but was aware that the group had closed in again so they still had a circle of avid listeners which he wanted to move right away from "Let's go and get some food" He was hastily reassessing his plans for the latter part of the evening, there was no way he wanted to start anything with her by having a drunken shag which could possibly lead to his face being well and truly slapped the following morning.

"I'm sorry"

"What for?"

"Your wife 'n that"

"I'm not"

"Aren't you? And I'm sorry that I got a bit trollied, you know, cos I thought you wasn't gonna show"

"I'm not a bit sorry my wife's not my wife anymore, I'm just sorry that it took me so long to come to my senses, and what on earth made you think I wasn't coming? Of course I was coming, I wanted to see you" He put his hand in the small of her back and started edging her towards the buffet table and away from their spectators "Come on my little pissed womble, let's get you something to eat, soak up some of that booze"

"What did you call me?"

"Well, you're about the same height"

"I'm not you cheeky bugger"

He asked her who the other sophisticated woman was that she'd been talking about and hooted with laughter when she said the witch then explained that he couldn't stand her and that she was history anyway. They were now far enough away from viewers and listeners for him to be able to tell her that he liked her just the way she was, that he didn't want her to try and be like anyone else. That he loved her dress and appreciated seeing her legs because he'd begun to think the jeans were a permanent fixture which were hiding some dark and sinister secret, which made her giggle, and then watched her blush scarlet as he told her he'd been wrong and that her legs were as beautiful as the rest of her.

The official part of the evening began with speeches and toasts while Charles tried hard to concentrate, something that was made unbelievably difficult by Molly standing just in front of him, almost close enough to be leaning against him, so that the baser parts of his anatomy began to reassess his plans once again. As they listened, or he pretended to, he knew that he'd got an idiotic grin on his face and his heart missed a beat as she put her tiny hand behind her and it crept into his, so that he squeezed it, meaning to let go but lacking the willpower as her fingers entwined with his and his high minded decision of earlier that evening all but vanished completely. He looked across and saw Stan raise his eyebrows, so he gave him a weak smile aware that everyone, including Stan, would know everything there was to know by this time Monday, but feeling guilty that he hadn't told him himself, Stan was one of the good guys. He let his eyes sweep round the room and saw that they were now the focal point of the floor show, so that he was conscious of the fact that Samantha had been right about one thing, and that they were the only ones who imagined they were some sort of secret. He wondered if the audience would believe him if he announced that he'd never touched her and decided the answer was probably not.

"Pardon?" Molly had murmured something which he didn't catch so he bent down so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I don't get it. Why do people always buy bleeding clocks for people what retire? You don't need to know the time when you stop at 'ome all day" The feel of her breath against his hair and ear was making him shiver.

"What would you have bought him then?"

"I dunno, a season ticket to a lap dancing club or something" She began to giggle.

"Molly, he's had a mini stroke" Charles laughed "What do you want to do, finish him off?"

"It'd be more fun than sitting at home watching a clock go round all day"

When the speeches were over he steered her across to Eddie suggesting that they should say their goodnights and good luck before he took her home, then waited while she went across to her mates and said her goodnights, hoping that she wouldn't get side tracked so that he'd have to go and retrieve her, then grinning broadly as she wandered back across the room to join him.

"Come on, let's go home" He looked around and waved at the group of people, then nodded at Stan and Robbie, seeing the knowing looks and smirks they were exchanging and thinking that they couldn't be more wrong if they tried.

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"What we doing 'ere?"

"This is where you live, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but where you gonna park? I didn't know we was going to mine, it's a bit of a bleeding mess in there, I thought we was going to yours"

"I'm not parking, and you're going to yours and I'm going to mine"

There was a long silence as she considered what he'd just said.

"You mean, you don't want me to stop with you? I thought you wanted us to be together"

"Of course I want us to be together, I just don't want some drunken thing …. one which you might be sorry about in the morning"

"I didn't know you was drunk"

"You know I'm not talking about me, I've had half a glass, not even that, I just don't want you to …. I thought we could talk tomorrow when you're sober"

"Charles?" She interrupted his attempt at being a gentleman.

"Yes"

"You know you're talking bollocks don't you?

"Am I?

"Course you are, I'm not drunk, I might 'ave been a little bit pissed earlier, but I'm not anymore, and seeing as how you think this is bandit country and you're too bleeding scared to park 'ere, and if you mean it that you wanna be with me, then I think it's time you took me home, don't you? Anyway, I wanna meet your dog"

"Lovely, so it's not me it's Parsnip"

"Parsnip?" She looked at Charles and started to giggle as he nodded "That's not a dog that's a bleeding vegetable you 'ave at Christmas"

Charles leaned across and kissed her cheek as he put the key back in the ignition and started the car.

"Don't let him hear you say that, you'll hurt his feelings"

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A/N: Thanks for your kind comments, I am absolutely loving writing this, so hope you carry on enjoying it. To the reviewer who thinks my chapters are too short, I've always thought that somewhere around 2,500 words was about right, and that anymore and I would run the risk of getting boring. Believe me, I could carry on forever, so have to force myself to apply the brakes somewhere.

So, onto Richmond, first night and future plans.