The next morning he woke to find himself alone and her pottering around on the opposite side of the room, the covers on the other bed pulled back.

"You didn't come back in with me last night" he said, through bleary eyes, seeing her pouring tea.

"and 'Good Morning' to you too" she joked.

"Sorry Camilla. Good Morning", he replied, brushing his palm over his face.

"I'll tell you why, "she paused. "When you decide to sleep neatly one might consider sharing that bed again!"

"My wife is so disrespectful to me", he muttered, swinging his legs out of the bed. "I really ought to think how I should address that" he continued walking across to her, sliding his arms completely around her waist. She knew he was teasing her; she could differentiate that now between good hearted playfulness and reproach for her actions. He kissed her on the cheek.

"Sit down, I will do that".

She took her lead from yesterday and sat on the step up to the single bed where he had spent the night.

She received a cup of tea to her hand and balancing the other cup; he sat down gingerly as she shifted trying to cover her knees with the short nightdress.

"Camilla, I was looking then, stop it".

She suppressed a laugh and let the hem be.

"So what happened last night?" he asked.

"I went to get a drink and Belle was downstairs. She was so upset! She was talking of not marrying him. Of running off ".

"Really?" he replied, quite shocked. "I mean, I know you said about her Mother's money, but look at us. We are better off than most in Poplar but we will never be rolling in it".

"Remember you said to me when we came here it was a different world?" she asked taking his hand. He nodded in response.

"It is a different world. A different time. When I was growing up, one had so many expectations placed upon me. I would go to Roedean, I would find a husband, get married at St Margaret's and provide children. I would be expected to host dinner parties and paint a smile on my face no matter how miserable or desperate I felt. That would be my life and I would have little say in it. Those expectations are the same for Belle. Mater wanted me married well and that was that and I would be set off on that path and never be able to step off it unless I wanted a divorce to my name. I would have no Nonnatus, no cycling around in the dead of night and no you".

"I know she thinks very little of me, but nothing and nobody will make me leave you".

"I know that", she paused. "It's odd. I would always wonder when I would see clarity of mind. In an obtuse way Mater forcing me to see and do what she wanted, has fortified that I was right all along. See Belle like this has made me realise how lucky I am. I might have had my moments, but even when you are a doddering old duffer I will still be in Poplar with you".

"Doddering old!?..." he remarked, eyebrows raising. "I will remember that when you want your wheelchair pushing!" He took a sip of tea.

"What did you say to Philip last night when he was talking about the supper club?"

"I told him I would be arresting him if I saw his face in there" Peter said bluntly, remembering the look that passed across Philip's face; as though he had just uttered the most uproarious jape that man ever invented.

"And?"

"He offered me double what he had before".

"And?" she asked again, with a slight level of anticipation in her voice, wanting, praying that he would say what he subsequently did.

"I told him I would be arresting him if I saw his face in there" he repeated. "That was when he suggested draining the wine cellar".

Chummy smiled. She liked the fact that he had told Philip precisely where he could put himself. She doubted very much that there was a quieter softer side to this man she had escaped. Nobody in his life, she imagined had ever said 'no' to him and he knew it.

"Philip, well, most of the men here, think that money is the key to having everything you want. You can buy possessions and people with enough. They think they are above the law".

Peter just shook his head. "I have no qualms about putting him in a cell. Even if he is your friend".

"I'd retract that if one was you. Philip is not my friend. Acquaintance at best".

"Do you think she will run?" he asked. It had crossed his mind that Camilla could have called off their wedding too though but for all different reasons than Isobel. He did not know and she had not confessed to her tearful thoughts of taking the veil, tears Jenny had kept so very close to her heart. Clearly, Isobel felt somewhat the same and no matter how much he thought Philip Harbottle was nothing more than a crook with a bank account, he had been complimentary about his future bride whilst they were examining the wine cellar.

"I understand why she would. I can't describe it, not properly, how it feels to be told you have no say, no choice". She knew the terror of being trapped, too frightened to speak up but she had seen the other side too, embracing the freedom of a marriage that allowed her to speak, to think and be what she wanted to be. "Its like you are suddenly hollow inside".

He took her hand, again twisting her wedding ring around her finger. It still unnerved her slightly when he was contemplative. The connection with her mother was so tenuous and limp that one of these days, whilst she may hope to understand and hope to be understood as time passed, she knew how close Isobel and her mother were. For Chummy, a much pain that it had caused her in her decisions, she knew Isobel's heart must have been shattering at this impossible situation.

"Does she have no-one else to go to, nowhere else?" His wife had had Nonnatus and the Sisters to run to, but feared that would not be the same for her friend.

Chummy shook her head. "That's what makes it so terrible. The only place she had to run to is one she fears the most. She asked me so much about you and it made me feel awful for being happy. Is that a terrible thing?"

"No", he replied. "It just goes to show you have a heart".

She nodded, still apprehensive. She had faced that ledge and had taken flight far too many years ago. "She has to make her choice. I am so glad I made mine", she smiled, leaning to kiss him.

"Are we supposed to be walking to the church?" he said.

"Yes. It will be such a parade, but there was no money for cars. Belle's mother just said that they told people they thought it would be a 'thing'. A quirk to make people remember the wedding. We are in a pickle if it rains" she concluded as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

"It's nearly 10. We ought to think about getting ready".