"Do you think it will ever stop?" Chummy asked as she sidled up to Peter, who was watching the rain and rather ominous black clouds creeping in over the sea. They had been in the hotel all day in various states of trying to find amusement that only partly involved being upright as going outside in the tipping down rain just seemed altogether too much of a bind.
He'd taught her cribbage and how to play poker with a ratty pack of cards he found in one of the dresser drawers and he had declined to learn bridge in return. She was quite pleased about that bit as she wasn't sure she understood it herself.
The fact that they had just spent the day, almost locked up, in a room together and they had sat, played games, kissed, suffered from fits of the giggles, kissed, drunk tea, talked, kissed and talked and just enjoyed each others company, was rather fantastic. Neither had gone stir crazy either which was always a bonus.
"Judging by that" Peter said pointing out the fork lightening as it speared the horizon, safely for him, in the distance, "no. I don't imagine it will ever stop".
He couldn't see her smile as he had turned back to the window, but felt her palm rest on his arm.
"Do you want to go down for dinner?" she asked. It was a bit early but lunch had been the best ham sandwiches that the landlady could offer and her stomach was starting to rumble.
"Are you hungry?" Peter asked, still watching the black clouds as they tumbled towards land, gathering speed before him.
"A little but I can wait" she replied.
"Half past?" he suggested, looking back at her for a second over his shoulder. It was almost ten past seven now.
"Half past it is" she smiled, walking away towards the bed, lying down and stretching out long limbs. Her knees hadn't appreciated sitting on the floor playing cards. Chummy closed her eyes and hadn't realised he had turned back and was watching her as she stretched every single muscle and sinew she had.
"Entirely ladylike madam if I could say so" he teased, arms folded as he leant against the window frame. She'd seen that smile before too. That real, proper, happy smile that told her that all was right with the world.
"Peter!" she exclaimed, thoroughly embarrassed she had been caught out.
"What?" he laughed. "I don't expect you to be all prim around me, Camilla" he said walking over crawling on the bed with her, so she could settle on his shoulder. All of a sudden there was another rumble of thunder, quite close this time, and Chummy shivered. Immediately she felt Peter tense up.
Despite the fact that she loved thunder grumbling away at her and lightening as it struck from sky to horizon, she half guessed that he did not feel the same way.
"I've always loved thunder and lightening" she started. "When I was at school I was on the top floor of the boarding house I could see for miles. I feel so safe ".
He was still quiet. "I hate it", he muttered.
Chummy looked up slightly, wondering whether to ask. She'd heard this before and she hesitated to bring up the subject. There was one date where they almost had to run back to Nonnatus, one stifling Summer evening when the sky had started to go rather spectacular shade of navy and they could both here rumbles over the river. "Is it because of…?" she asked, wanting him to talk if he needed to. He nodded. It was still clear as day, hearing bullets whizz past him, choking on acrid smoke, seeing friends hurt and being unable to do a thing. Thunder was too like the noise of explosions and lightening too like the death bringing impact.
"You know if want to talk Peter you can", she said. "I'll be here to listen forever".
"I know you will" he replied. She felt a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "Distract me" he said suddenly and her mind went blank for a moment.
"Oh! Erm.." She thought for a second sitting up out of his arms until she saw his face. He actually looked pale.
"Peter", she began. "You know if you want to talk…."
"No Camilla".
"Only…. if you do.."
"No Camilla"
He sat up to face her and shook his head, seeing the fact for a moment she actually looked almost frightened. "First and last marital crossed word" he whispered.
"One should keep ones enormous trap shut" Chummy replied bluntly, looking down at the bedclothes, feeling admonished and entirely stupid that she had pushed him when she should have realised.
Peter shifted and sat up too, drifting his palm to the back of her neck, pulling her forward so he could kiss her deeply and rather thoroughly. "Not all the time" he muttered through the kiss, feeling her self consciously laugh.
"I'm sorry" she said quietly, catching his eye at last.
"Shush" he replied. "It doesn't matter. I know you're trying to help". Peter barely heard her response as she almost mouthed the word 'alright'.
They lay back down again the room only lit by the single bedside lamp on his side the room hosting a rather yellow glow. They had spent so much time today talking about anything and everything that suddenly it seemed as though words had run out. There might be a day when she could start to worry that they might run out of topics to discuss but today there was no need for concern as there was peace within company.
She settled down, burrowing closer to him as his left hand ghosted quietly up and down her arm letting the seconds tick away. These moments were heaven and how she wished she could bundle them up, tie them in a knot and put them away for those times she felt down. That brief exchange of 'words' felt dead and buried and forgotten about. It was a strange thing to become accustomed to that as the years rolled by that when they did argue, it was over in seconds. Short, sharp and consigned to the past.
He too, could hardly believe how right this felt. There were those times whilst she thought she would never marry, he thought he would like to but had been slowly giving up on the idea. She was never anywhere within reach, until this particular woman crossed his path and he intended to hang on tight.
"Camilla?" he asked quietly. "When you said you never thought you'd get married….did you really think that?" She had told him quite openly some time ago that whilst she harboured hope, it always seemed to be a pipe dream.
"Yes, I did" she replied. "By the time Mater had tried to tie me off with potential husband number ten or so..."
"Ten?!"
"Ten" Chummy responded matter of factly. "Could have been more; I lost count. Stopped counting" she added quickly. "I stopped caring. I hoped; but cared? No. I don't think cared enough about myself at that point to even engage".
Peter frowned, finding it quite difficult to understand how any mother could behave like hers generally let alone forcing marriage onto her only daughter where she would know that she would be nothing but unhappy. "I can't imagine what that was like".
"Don't imagine. Don't even try" Chummy warned. He'd never understand and she would fail entirely in explaining how it wore away at her soul; ground her down and yes indeed, led her simply not to care any more.
"Was there really nobody?" Peter asked.
'No harm in telling him' Chummy thought.'After all you told me about your fiancee that never was'.
"There was Tom" she began, still resting on his shoulder. "His Pa and my Pa were friends back from when they were boys at Eton. I could have a conversation with him, but one day he just wasn't in our circle of friends any more. His Pa, Ma, him and his siblings. I've no idea why although nothing ever happened between us". She wanted to add in the last bit. He'd never even got as far as holding her hand let alone anything else but she liked him and he seemed to like her.
"Mum never used to interfere..." Peter said, only for the first time really considering the fact that his mother had given him a fairly free reign when it came to girlfriends but he could hardly say he had driven his way through the female population of Poplar.
"With your multitude of girlfriends?" she teased interrupting him, turning a button on his jumper as she went, waiting for the response, hoping he would see she was only jesting.
"Hardly Camilla" he replied dryly.
"But at least you…." She started, before deciding it was probably not a good idea to tell him what her brain was thinking even though it had been whirring over and over in her mind, wondering if he really appreciated or realised that when she had joked that she had no experience with men that she really, truthfully meant none.
"At least I?" he asked, gently pressing on her shoulder to encourage her but he was met with silence. "Camilla? At least I?"
"At least you got to, oh, I don't know…..You had the choice. Had the choice to choose who. Mind you" she started, thinking suddenly. "Who would want to kiss me?" Peter could not see the briefly widening eyes.
"Me" he replied. It was clear as day to him. "Me. Repeatedly".
"Before you. You were my first everything" she sighed, not wanting to recall or remember some of those times gone past.
"Well I am grateful for that" Peter replied. She felt a kiss pressed to the top of her head. Funny how just that brief touch, made her feel so protected and as though all her disbelief could one day be packed away and forgotten about. He did love her. All the affection, to her, meant so much more than she could ever imagine.
"Honestly?" she asked, thinking he might just have wanted to have a wife who was perhaps a little more worldly wise or hadn't practically been sold off to the highest bidder.
"Yes. I'd like to think of it that that you were waiting for me" he replied before he heard her laugh.
"I didn't realise you had such an high opinion of yourself! I may have to rethink things somewhat!" she replied, still chuckling away at his audacity even though she knew full well he hadn't quite meant for it to come out quite so arrogantly.
"I meant that... " he began before she cut him off again.
"I know what you meant you fool" she replied. "That someone decided that we shouldn't be married to anyone else. We just had to wait a while. Learn what we wanted". Peter just nodded in response; it was was what he was trying to get across except doing it badly.
"Speaking of waiting..." she muttered, feeling her stomach start to rumble again.
"Come on then!" he replied, sitting them both up. "It'll be half past by the time we get downstairs anyway. Let's go and have dinner".
She followed him happily, hanging on to his hand as she closed the door behind them, leaving the room in its warming yellow glow until they returned.
