Chapter 29

June 1962

Clara took a series of deep breaths as soon as she had solid ground under her feet again and yet she still felt like it was moving underneath her.

"Are you okay?" John asked as he took her hand luggage from her.

"No," she breathed, "Please, tell me we can take a boat on the way back."

John laughed. "I'm afraid we can't, darling. But the flight wasn't that bad. There was absolutely no turbulence. It all went fine."

"Then we're going to stay here because I am not stepping on a plane again. And if that wasn't bad I don't even want to find out what turbulences feel like!"

"Darling-"

"Don't darling me. I have never been so sick in my entire life. The pregnancy was a walk in the park compared to this!"

"But darling," John said enthusiastically, "We're in London."

For the first time Clara looked around. All she could see was the airport but it felt different. A smile spread across her face. If only her knees weren't so wobbly.

"We're in London," she repeated happily, "And we will never leave because I refuse to step on a plane ever again."

John wrapped his arm around her. "We'll be here two weeks. Trust me, when it's time to leave you'll have forgotten all about the flight. And now we should probably get to our hotel and sleep. It's late."

"I'm really not tired," Clara complained. They probably should have started living by European Time while they were still at home to avoid the jet lag but it had proven to be difficult with a toddler who demanded constant attention.

"I know," John replied, "But if we don't go to bed we'll sleep in and miss half of the day. There are so many things I want to show you."

Clara sighed happily. "Alright."

After retrieving their luggage Clara and John took a taxi to their hotel in central London and she was pleased to see that it was right next to the Thames. Despite the darkness Clara had looked out of the window the entire ride and her eyes had grown bigger and bigger at the sight of the city. It seemed to be absolutely marvellous and Clara decided right then that they would be living here one day.

John carried their luggage upstairs until they both stopped in front of their hotel room door and Clara took the key out of her pocket and opened it.

"Oh look," she gasped as she looked out of the window, "You can see Big Ben from h- uhhhhh!"

Clara made a noise of surprise as John suddenly picked her up from behind and she fell back onto the bed, landing on top of him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, laughing.

"I told you we have to go to bed," John replied as he turned them around and climbed on top of her.

"And I told you I wasn't tired," she smirked at him.

"Oh, don't worry," John said in a low voice, "I'll tire you out."

A moment later John crashed their lips together in a passionate kiss that almost robbed her of her breath. She smiled against his lips. As much as Clara loved it in their New York apartment and as much as she loved their little family and their life together – this was also quite nice, not having to worry about keeping quiet, not having to make the bed the next morning, not having to think about college essays or dirty dishes or the laundry.

Clara wrapped her arms around him as he started grinding against her, sending shivers right down to her centre and she parted her legs under him, pushing up against the terribly unsatisfying friction.

"You're gonna have to do better than that," she breathed when his lips left hers so John could catch his breath.

"Oh?" he cocked an eyebrow.

And in one swift movement he reached behind her back and pulled her up to sit in his lap before he kissed her lips again. John's hands wandered below her shirt, quickly pulling it over her head. The rest of their clothing was soon discarded of and John was back on top of her, pinning her to the sheets. When he moved inside her Clara thought she would never tire of the way he touched her, the way he kissed her. They were simply made for each other and whatever wind had blown him into the small Texan town on the day they had met Clara was so thankful for that and for every second that they had spent together since as she came apart under his touch. John kissed her roughly after he had spent himself inside of her and rolled on his back, pulling her up to lie on his chest.

OOO

John was woken by a strange sound coming from the bathroom and he opened his eyes to find the bed next to him empty.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Clara exclaimed.

"Is there something wrong, darling?" he called out.

And then his wife came storming back into the bedroom, holding something between her fingers that he couldn't see.

"I found a grey hair!" she yelled.

John frowned. "That's it?"

"I found a grey hair, John! On my own head!"

He couldn't help but burst into laughter. "And that's why you're freaking out?"

"If that isn't a reason to freak out I don't know what is! The bathroom light here is much better. God knows how long I've had that and never noticed!"

Still laughing he struggled into a sitting position and looked at Clara.

"Darling, have you taken a good look at me? I have nothing but grey hair on my head. I've never complained about it."

"That's different," Clara spat, "You're older than me and you're a man. Men look good with grey hair. I'm only 31 – that is way too early!"

She walked up to the bed and let herself fall back down, pouting.

"Soon I'll be all grey and wrinkled and then you'll go and find yourself a new wife, someone who is young and pretty."

John giggled and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Yeah, I should probably start looking for her right away," he said sweetly, "There is no way I'm going to love you with a few wrinkles. That's unacceptable."

He bent down and placed a few kisses along the line of her neck.

"Are you being silly and sweet to make me feel better?" Clara asked grumpily.

"Absolutely," he whispered into her ear right before he gently bit down on her lobe.

"Okay," she sighed, "Keep going."

"Nope," he replied and suddenly jumped up from the bed, offering Clara his hand, "We're gonna take a bath together, go downstairs and have breakfast and then I will start showing you around London."

Finally, at the mention of London, her eyes lit up again and she took his hand and allowed him to drag her back to her feet.

They hadn't planned anything in particular for their first day so John decided to just show Clara around the city, starting with a walk along the Thames, which she loved, he took her to ride the Tube, which she also loved. They strolled through Hyde Park and eventually ended up in a small café in Greenwich.

"John," she said earnestly after she put her coffee mug down, "I want to live here."

John giggled. "You have only seen a tiny fragment of London."

"I don't care," she replied, "I love it and I want to live here as soon as I'm done with college. New York is nice but this," she looked around, apparently lost for words, "The spirit of this city, I just love it and I know Beth will love it when she's bigger."

"I love it, too," John admitted.

"Why did you leave?" Clara asked him, "What made you leave this amazing city and move to a small town in Texas? I don't get it."

He shrugged and if he was completely honest he didn't know either. Everything that had happened before Clara seemed so far away now, so unimportant that it was almost like a dream. He never even thought about it because the only two things that mattered to him now were Clara and Beth.

John reached across the table and took Clara's hand in his. "Then let's do it. If you're sure, we'll do it. When you've finished college we'll move."

Clara smiled at him and it filled John with happiness. She had changed so much since the day they had met. She had grown from a sad, young person working in a diner to a strong woman, wife and mother who was now on the road to fulfilling her dream of becoming a teacher and even though John would never brag about it he knew that he was the one responsible for that. He couldn't be prouder and he didn't think he could love her more.