Thank you for staying with the story and for all your lovely reviews …. so they're finally together (yah!) Still got a few more years to go… prepare for some fluff… I think they (well we) deserve it…
Friday 15 July 2012
Battersea, London
She stands in front of the large mirror in her hallway checking her appearance. She's pleased with what she sees, noting how the stunning green dress brings out her eyes.
He comes up behind her, places his hands on her hips, takes a long lustful look at her in the mirror and starts placing gentle kisses on her neck and along her shoulders.
She has a familiar sensation of tightening between her legs and feels them becoming weak. She lets out an involuntary groan as one of his hands moves from her hips towards her breast and she leans back into him.
Half-heartedly, she protests, "Stop it."
She can feel him hardening behind her as he pushes against her.
She's undeniably enjoying this sensory assault, but regretfully needs him to halt, "Stop it. I can't be bleedin' late."
He slows down his sweet caresses before stepping back from her, sulkily muttering, "You shouldn't look so bloody beautiful then."
She turns around and gasps at the sight of him in his tux.
"Shittin' hell Charles, how am I gonna keep my hands off you tonight?"
He adjusts the tent in his trousers and is not entirely joking when he says, "Well unless you want to see it splashed across the bloody tabloids, I'd suggest you try."
She smirks at that thought and launches herself at him, "Seems a shame to waste that. Might gonna have to be quick."
He lifts her up easily and she wraps her legs around his waist as he backs her up against the nearest wall, "Yes ma'am."
-x-
When Candy had sold her story to a certain Sunday tabloid, things had become a little bit crazy for a while.
Whatever anger or bitterness had caused her to do it, whatever revenge she'd been hoping to achieve, it had spectacularly backfired. Rather than being vilified in the press as some sort of heartless bitch, her and Charles' 'love' story had captured hearts and there had been a short period of extreme interest in their lives.
She'd suspected that someone at her publisher might have stoked the story more than it probably warranted, but the fact that they were a beautiful couple probably hadn't helped. The rags to riches aspect of her history had always been of interest in publicity interviews and the latest twist which saw her in a relationship with "handsome Captain Posh", was too good to be ignored.
Despite the fact that she had never actively embraced or encouraged the celebrity side of her fame, they became a story, people of interest. She'd always assiduously guarded her privacy and managed to live below the tabloid radar, so it had been a bit of a shock to them both.
Thankfully, the excitement had passed relatively quickly. Normality and relative anonymity had resumed, except that Charles had a new nickname, much to his dismay but Elvis' extreme pleasure.
All had been quiet for months, but the imminent launch of the much-anticipated feature film of the first Julie Criscoll book had renewed interest.
Tonight, at the world premiere, they will be very much on show and in the limelight.
-x-
The car pulls up outside the Odeon Leicester Square and she's completely taken aback by the crowds and assembled press.
She contemplates asking the driver to turn around and take them straight back home, "Shittin' hell."
He laughs at her, mimicking her accent, "Shittin' hell indeed Dawsey."
"Do you think we can sneak in around the back?"
He squeezes her hand, "What and disappoint your adoring public? Come on. Shall we do this?"
He gets out of the car and walks around to her door, chivalrously offering her a hand with a highly amused grin on his face.
She takes a deep breath, calms her nerves and fixes a big smile onto her face as she steps out of the car onto the red carpet, clinging onto his arm for dear life.
-x-
As the final scene ends and her name comes up in huge letters as the credits start to roll, he turns to her and whispers, "That was fucking awesome Dawsey."
Then the audience is on its feet, with the cast and production team receiving a standing ovation. For the next hour or so everyone wants to shake her hand, congratulate her and talk to her. He watches from a distance, marvelling at how much she has achieved, but yet how modest she is about her success. It's no wonder that the press bloody love her, she is so natural, charming and funny. However, what he still marvels about the most is that, over everything else, she's chosen him.
His life has been transformed by having her in it. Two years ago he was broken physically and mentally, but her love and support has been unconditional. He is grateful to her for encouraging him to stay in the Army. He has regained his confidence and once again become the strong and assertive man he used to be. A man that people look up to and respect. A man who can inspire and lead. A Captain who has just been promoted to Major.
She catches his eye and smiles. He winks at her. She nods her head, inviting him to come over and join her. As he approaches, she takes his hand pulling him close alongside her.
She looks a bit anxious, "You ok?"
He grins at her, "Sure. I'm was enjoying the view."
"I'm sorry if it's a bit borin' for you."
He squeezes her hand and reassures her, "Hey, it's not boring for me. This is your night. You've deserved it. I'm just happy and honoured to be here with you."
-x-
Much later, they're sat cuddled together on a small rattan sofa on the balcony of her flat, looking out over Battersea Park and the London night skyline sharing a bottle of wine.
He kisses the top of her head, "Well, that was definitely one of the more surreal evenings of my life."
"I know, it was a bit mad, weren't it. Fun though, but I'm glad to be home. I'm not sure I'm ever gonna get used to that sort of attention."
"You're a natural at it. I said you'd be brilliant, all those years ago, and I was right."
"Alright, no need to be so bleedin' smug about it. Anyway, you're not doin' so shabbily yerself….. Major James."
They sit in companionable silence for a little while before he shifts position to look at her. She senses a small change in his mood, he's become more serious.
He traces the line of her face with his hand, "You know what the date is today?"
For some reason she's starting to feel a bit nervous, "Of course... it's St. Swithin's Day."
He looks at her in mock exasperation, "and..."
She smiles at him, "and it's our anniversary... Thirteen years ago today we nearly got it together."
He snorts with laughter, "We've never talked about what happened that night... you seemed so into me and then you weren't."
"Well I seem to remember you fell asleep."
He sounds suitably chastised, "Yes, not my finest moment. But later on, in the morning, when you came back into the room after your shower, you didn't seem so keen."
"Oh, I was keen... very keen, but... well, looking back it's kind of silly..."
"What was silly?"
"My period had started."
He's incredulous, "What?"
"My period started and I was too embarrassed to tell you. So there. Now you know."
He laughs remembering how he'd felt, "Shit. I thought you'd sobered up and decided against me."
"No, not at all. Why do you think I suggested we spend the day together?"
He leans over and kisses her, "I'm so glad you did..."
She responds to his kiss and much to her annoyance after a little while he pulls away, "I've been a bit neglectful on the anniversary gifts in recent years..."
She doesn't care and wants to get back to kissing him, "No matter."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box, "Well, I was hoping that this might make up for it..."
He opens up the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring, "Molly. Will you marry me?"
She squeals with almost childish delight before climbing onto his lap, excitedly grabbing his face and kissing him fiercely on the lips. "Yes... Yes, I bleedin' will."