Chapter 37

Friday 10th February

"You've got a dog?" Charles asked, putting down his beer.

William chuckled, "I know, seems ridiculous right? We're both at work so often and in a flat." He shook his head. "But Niamh had always wanted one and so…" he shrugged. "Jack. I've got pictures on my phone but that seems a step too far – to suddenly start dragging those out."

"I don't mind, seeing them, you know."

"You have pets? Do you even like dogs?"

"We just got a kitten actually, total fluke that is. Elsie isn't, well wasn't, much of a pet person. Basically, we'd kinda adopted a cat, well I kept feeding it and it turned up over Christmas and gave birth in our living room."

William laughed, "Wow, some gift."

"Yeah, Elsie's sister loved it. Three kittens anyhow, we… well, we kept one of them. He's become Elsie's shadow, hence her change of heart. No bigger than your fist and yet he's taken over the house."

"They do that. She seems nice. Elsie, I mean."

"She is. Wonderful. And, your… Niamh seems lovely too."

"She's great. Frantic plans starting now though."

"You have a date in mind, for the wedding?"

William nodded, draining his pint glass. "We'd like to do it this year."

"Oh, that soon?"

"Seems silly to wait, no need for a long engagement, neither of us wants that. Besides. We like the idea of starting a family."

Charles felt his throat dry, and glanced into the bottom of his empty glass. "You've discussed children, then?"

"Yeah. From the start. I suppose we want to try and be traditionalists, as far as we can be. But it's all stress, you know, we're planning this wedding and we're looking for a house."

"You want to buy?"

"If we can. Getting a deposit together has been fun!" He laughed. "Not really making it easy for ourselves."

"It's a lot of stress at once, do you need to buy so quickly?" Charles felt like he was extra cautious with his words, he really was in no position and certainly had no right to give his opinion.

"I think we like the idea of moving in together, our own place, you know. Even if it needs work, in fact I think we'd prefer that. Then we can make it ours."

"Well, Elsie knows a lot about properties, got a lot of contacts. I can ask her if she knows of anything coming free. You want to be in the same area?"

"Yeah, thereabouts. I'd be grateful for it, if she knows of anything. Shall we get another drink?"

"Oh yeah. Course, I'll get them though."

"You don't have to," William got up. "Same again? I've got time, before I go."

"You're meeting Niamh?"

"We're seeing the late film."

Charles nodded as casually as he could be, "Same again would be great."

He fiddled with the beer mat as he waited, twisting over one corner where it had come unpeeled and working the thin layers between his thumb and forefinger. He had hoped they'd go out for dinner, or just eat in the pub, have a real conversation, but he didn't want to push things. Since he'd returned from Brighton and Elsie had encouraged him to make contact he'd lived in a whirlwind of emotions.

He was a father. Confirmed.

William, quite clearly, was in a bit of a state at having it there in black and white; despite his years of knowing Charlie Grigg wasn't his father it was still a thump to the chest to find out he was now, actually, a Carson.

For his part, Charles had been ecstatic. He'd cried when he'd put the phone down, Elsie staring at him expectantly and gently whispering, "Well, what did he say?"

And he'd smiled at her, nodded, and cried, his face buried in her shoulder as she'd held him. It was quite something to admit, after all the years of wonder, that it was something he'd wanted his entire life.

She'd kissed his head, rubbed his back, soothed and whispered words of affection and he'd clung onto her, genuinely happy in that moment.

It was only after that he'd lay in bed at night wondering what the hell it all meant now and where they'd go from there.

A few stunted telephone conversations later and finally they met face-to-face. Charles had been early, as usual, and wondered about how to greet his 'son' when he arrived. William was home for a long weekend, wedding planning he said with his family, and that had put Charles firmly in his place. Presently, he was still nothing more than an old family friend and a sperm donor. Gently, gently was the route to go. This was the unknown to both of them, after all.

"There we go," William put down his drink. "So, what are you doing for Valentine's this year?"

"Nothing too exciting, considering the extravagance of last year." He smiled at the memory, "Hard to believe it's only a year ago, Elsie and I had just started seeing each other really, getting to know each other."

"Now a firmly established couple."

"Quite." He could remember that first tentative night in the hotel, waking in the early hours and making love and feeling like it was the first time he'd ever touched a woman. "Changed my life," he said gently, then looked to William's face. "I might not have ever been brave enough to pursue this had it not been for her."

William swallowed his beer, feeling his cheeks pink at the direct focus on the awkward truth between them.

"Niamh's been the same, to be honest, I didn't know if I wanted the results. When they arrived it took me a few days to open them; I wasn't sure if I wanted things to change."

"I can understand that."

"She made me realise if I didn't look then I'd always wonder, just as I have always wondered."

"Nothing has to change," Charles added. "Not really. We can take this at your speed, I'm happy just to be… just for this kind of thing really, just to be involved, to get to know you. I'm not phrasing this well."

"I know what you mean. And I appreciate it."

"Sybil, last year, losing her made me realise you've got to make the most of it all. You can't keep still, as much as that's been my tried and tested approach to things. If you want things to change you have to make that happen, otherwise I could have spent a lifetime staring at Elsie from across the room at a party and wondered but never known for sure. And you, I could have wondered, questioned, but remained in the dark."

"And knowing? It's better than not?"

Charles smiled slowly, "Yes," he nodded, feeling Elsie's hand take hold of his, her scent surrounding him, "immeasurably so."

"Now, don't bite," Elsie said, kneeling on the kitchen floor and holding out the cat treat. "Agh, no, wait, don't bite. You have to learn these things."

Socks lifted his paw and tapped the treat until it snapped in half and fell from between Elsie's fingers to the floor.

"Clever little bugger," she chuckled, watching him try to get the giant stick into his tiny mouth.

She scooped him up, settling him on her lap, "Come here, rascal," she kissed his head. "Let's try this," she broke off a piece of the treat and laid it in her hand in front of him and screwed up her face as he licked her palm and took the food. "Lovely," she said, "Your spit in my hand. You want some more?"

Socks looked up at her and licked her chin, "You're too cute for words," she smiled, kissing his nose. "Mummy will get you some more."

She fed him another piece, mentally pausing when she realised that it was first time in her entire life she'd used the word 'mummy' in reference to herself. She felt silly after the fact; he was just a cat, an animal, but then again maybe he did see her as his mother - she certainly did everything a mother would do – provide a home, feed, clean, even entertain.

"This is quite the family scene to come home to," Charles said, startling them both. Socks hopped down from her lap and bounded over to Charles, standing on the toe of his shoe and fighting with his laces.

"You and these bloody shoes," he said, bending down to tickle his belly. "We can be sure he's a man," Charles added, "I saw his manhood earlier today."

"You did what?" She pushed herself up to her feet.

"He was lying on the sofa and I was stroking his chin and there it was."

"Perverted," she laughed, "What you two get up to whilst I'm at work. Thank goodness he's not done that to me. You're back early," She said, glancing at the clock, "it's only just after eight. I thought you'd be a couple more hours."

Charles threw his car keys onto the table and leaned over to kiss her cheek, "Yeah, he was heading to meet his girlfriend at the cinema."

"Oh," she sensed the low tone in his voice. "It went okay?"

"Yeah, went fine. Just… short." He shrugged. "Baby steps I guess."

"Yes, and better than nothing. I thought you were going to have dinner."

"Me too. We just had a couple of drinks. Misunderstanding I think, or me not making it clear what the evening would be."

She rubbed his arm, "I'll make you something to eat. Anything in particular?"

"Can you make me that cheese on toast you do, where you do the mustard thing? I like that."

She smiled, "Of course. You don't want anything more?"

"No," he wrapped his arms around her waist, "just a quick hug," he said gently, holding onto her. "Thanks for making me go," he mumbled into her shoulder.

"Oh, well, we both know how intelligent I am…" she returned the hug, "…always right."

Tuesday 14th February

It had been decided between them that Tuesday was a ridiculous day to celebrate Valentine's; that the restaurants would be overpriced, terribly busy and noisy and they'd have a more pleasant evening if they just stayed home.

So they did.

Charles had a meeting as it turned out, and had taken the train to Milton Keynes at some obscene hour that morning, before Elsie had even woken and they'd had a chance to exchange gifts.

There was a card and an enormous bouquet of flowers in the vase on the kitchen table; she wondered how he'd managed to hide them from her. A post-it note stuck to the table informed her the rest of her gift 'came later' and she wondered if he'd meant the slightly risqué double entendre or if it was just her filthy mind.

He was gone most of the day, scouting for possible training venues with Steven and Michael and so she'd pretty much worked for most of it too. Coming home for her lunch hour she'd made Charles' favourite chocolate cake. She'd borrowed heart shaped tins from Beryl in a bid to make it slightly romantic and iced a C and an E entwined on the top, though the E was slightly wobbly as her wrist had weakened, but it was legible and she didn't think Charles would mind the distinct lack of flair with her cake decorating skills.

She'd gone back to the office in the afternoon with chocolate icing around the cuff of her blouse.

Charles was home by the time she got in, building Socks' latest toy and cursing in the kitchen.

"Oh bloody hell," he complained, sucking on his thumb to ease the sharpness behind his nail. "Bloody thing," he mumbled.

"Whatever's wrong?"

"Stupid thing, and they call these things instructions, four pictures do not make instructions. Screw this in here and put that through there."

"What kind of instructions are you reading, exactly?" She couldn't help but grin at the scene; Charles on his knees surrounded by bits and bobs as he tried to assemble the climbing frame and Socks, sitting on the kitchen table watching him.

"And all for him, look at this," he waved his hand as the kitten yawning and licking his foot. "Building this tower block for him, and he's wandering over the kitchen counters…"

"He's sitting on the table, he likes it there. Don't fuss."

"He's quickly becoming a spoilt little boy."

"He's lonely since Munchkin left," she said, turning to look over the cat climbing frame and Charles quieted at her tone; ever since Blue had died and they'd taken Munchkin up to Scotland, she'd been overly-protective of the remaining kitten, he couldn't deny her that really. "It's coming on," she said. "Nice, isn't it? Smart looking."

Charles pushed himself to his feet and stood back, "Not bad I guess, won't look bad in the corner."

"See. Anyhow, are you forgetting something, Mr. Carson?"

He smirked at her expectant expression, casual as he slid his hands around her waist, "What might that be?"

She fiddled with the open collar of his shirt, "Oh maybe missing me all day long, something like that."

He held her tighter, leaning his head down to hers and tenderly kissing her lips. "Happy Valentine's."

She smiled, eyes flashing bright and pure, "Happy Valentine's in return – our second one."

"Shall we celebrate?"

"Of course," she said, "Plenty of wine in the fridge."

"And cake…" he said knowingly.

"Oh, you found it, did you?"

He chuckled, "I might have noticed it, hidden as it was right there in the middle of the counter. Nice icing." He winked.

She smiled, "Thanks. I do try. Do you want to finish that thing and I'll get started on dinner."

He kissed her again first, after weeks of awkwardness and then Brighton and the confinement it felt good to be relaxed with her. Sharing everything again.

She took out a bottle of wine from the fridge. "So, I was thinking."

Charles hammered the top shelf onto the frame, "Yes?"

"How about if we invited William and… what's his fiancée's name?"

"Here?"

"Where else?"

"They erm, well, they don't live close by really."

"No, but they could come over, they might, if you ask."

He sat back on his haunches, putting down the hammer. "We're both only just getting used to the fact we're related."

"Yes. And you've seen him once since the results. Charles, you pushed for this for a reason."

"And I don't want to push him away."

"It's dinner, some chat, that's it. And I want to get to know him too. I am part of your life, after all…"

He shook his head, "Pressing my buttons."

"Is that done?"

"Think so," he wobbled the contraption. "Seems sturdy enough."

"Well, he weighs as much as a satsuma. Put him on it, see if he likes it."

"You know the little bleeder's started nipping my fingers."

She held back her smirk; she did know, he'd done the same to her. "He just wants to play."

"He's still not learned how to retract the claws," he got to his feet, scooping Socks up from the table and gently placing him on the top shelf of the frame. "What do you think to that then?"

Socks turned round three times, sniffing the material, then plonked his bottom down and looked expectantly at Elsie.

"Do you like it sweetheart?" She kissed his head, "There's toys on it too, see," she shook one of the balls that hung from the stem and Socks reached out his paw to swipe at it. "That's it, look at your coordination."

"You'd be one of those terrible stage mums, I can see it."

She rolled her eyes, "Play with him whilst I cook."

He nodded, protesting but nevertheless putting up with a few claw marks as he played with the kitten. "Don't forget to chop the carrots –,"

"Lengthways, I know. Fussy bugger."

"You'd think, with it being Valentine's, you'd cut them into little hearts really."

"Oh yes, and you'd eat the blood-stained pieces."

"Each and every one. You do realise I have a gift for you, a real one, not the flowers."

"I would hope so," she took a sip of wine. "And I have one for you too, of course… Shall we swap now?"

"Because you can't wait."

"Because you can't!"

She rushed out of the room, returning a few moments later with a large envelope and a small, wrapped package.

Charles had moved Socks' frame to the other side of the kitchen, and the kitten was happily clawing at one of the legs.

"Here you go." She said biting her lip, "Last year I gave you a jar of sweets."

"I still have the jar," he smiled, "it's empty now mind. I gave you nothing, so, hopefully this will make up for it."

"You gave me plenty," she kissed his cheek as she took the package from his hand and handed across her gift. "Hope you like it."

She giggled, hopping about playfully as she tore off the paper, "I love getting gifts!"

Charles opened the small package she'd given him, a set of paintbrushes.

"You'll get it when you open the other one," she explained, opening the small jewellery box to reveal a beautiful pair of blue earrings.

"Thought they'd match your eyes." He said, watching as she took out the pair she was wearing and put in the new ones.

"They're beautiful."

"I completely agree," he said softly, pulling her to him and kissing her firmly on the mouth.

She smiled against his lips; their second Valentine's and they were in love, deeply entwined in one life.

"Open the envelope," she said giddily, squeezing his free hand.

He did so, turning over what looked like a letter. "I need my glasses."

"Oh bloody hell, it's a painting class. I signed you up for it, 12 weeks, all paid for, and spring is coming so you can paint the garden…" She looked eagerly to his face, "You like it?"

"It's wonderful, a really wonderful, thoughtful present. Thank you so much."

"Hence the brushes."

"Well, indeed. Hope I haven't forgotten what to do with them."

"Never," she teased, "like riding a bike."

He rolled his eyes, squeezing her hip where he held her.

"You paint something good, I'll hang it in the lounge."

"I'll hold you to that." He leant in to kiss her and she pressed her finger to his lips.

"If you keep doing that we'll have no heart-shaped carrots."

"Bugger the carrots."

Charles shifted his legs, making room on the sofa as Elsie returned to the lounge, carrying a tray with two glasses of wine and two very large slices of chocolate cake.

"Ohhh that looks good," Charles rubbed his hands together. "Thank you darling."

"You're very welcome," she sat at the opposite end of the couch. "Had to cut through the heart of course."

"And you'd made it so lovingly."

"Mm," she took a forkful of the cake. "You had a good day?"

"Fruitful one," his cake was already almost gone. "Three possible venues, we're just going to play them off against each other now. I am, in fact."

"Look at you, businessman," she grinned. "Who'd have thought?"

"You've just never seen this side of me, that's all." He put his plate aside and took hold of his wine instead.

"I wasn't making a joke," she squeezed his sock-clad toes. "I like it, I like the fact you're enjoying this."

"Gives the old man something to do."

She shook her head, "More than that." She settled back comfortably, crossing her legs, which tipped her plate a little and she giggled as she put it aside and took hold of her wine.

"Elsie?"

"Mm."

Her hand rested on his ankle and she was absently rubbing his skin as she kept her eyes on the television.

"You're not bored, are you?"

"With the film?"

"No, I mean…" he picked up the remote and muted the television. "When we first started dating –,"

"I was watching that."

"Yes, listen though, for a second. It's Valentine's evening and we're stuck inside – cooking for ourselves and… Well, in the beginning…"

She sipped her wine, pursing her lips, amused by him. "In the beginning…" she prompted. "Is this a Bible story?"

He rolled his eyes, "Listen, sensibly."

"I am listening. Sensibly."

"We used to go out all the time, you know, dates, evenings."

"Yes. Are you worried we're staying home too much?"

"No," he shook his head, "course not. You know I'm happier here… But you're an outdoor, that's not the word I mean. You're sociable. You like to go out."

"I'm very happy," she said, squeezing his foot. "And we do go out, we had lunch with Robert and Cora at the weekend and I was perfectly pleasant to them."

"You were very nice."

"See. I am a social butterfly, perfectly content wherever, with whomever."

"And the large G&T helped."

"You know how I feel about Gin," she smiled. "Can we watch the rest of the film now?"

"Another thing, whilst I'm on it."

"Charles, I'm not bored. Besides we go out often, we have tickets for that play next week, if you don't want to go…"

"I do. It wasn't that. You remember on the stairs," he felt his chest redden and the blush rise up his neck. "New Year's Eve."

"Ohhhh, you mean 'that' on the stairs."

He nodded, "Were you bored then?"

"What the fuck?"

"No! Not that moment, I mean, of our sex life, I know I can be quite pedestrian."

"Are we really talking about this?"

Charles stared at her open-mouthed.

"Spit it out, whatever's on your mind," She insisted.

"Did we do that on that night because you were getting bored with me… I know, missionary, and all that?"

"No." She smiled softly, forcing herself not to giggle. "Of course not, never. Though I am concerned it's taken you almost two months to ask me that."

He shrugged, "I don't like to rush things."

She laughed, "Oh goodness, Charles," her body shook with laughter and she put down her wine and glanced at herself, noticing a mark. "Look at this."

"Icing on your breast," He said wryly.

She looked at him with dark eyes, "Want to lick it off? It is Valentine's."

Elsie crawled up the sofa, up over his body, laughing with him as he dipped his head down and licked the chocolate icing from her skin.

"Tastes good."

She placed a full kiss on his mouth. "My darling. I'm not bored. There's nothing I enjoy more than making love with you, any which way, that and making a huge profit when I sell a house."

He laughed now, cuddling her against him and kissing the top of her head, "Good. And I'm still waiting to see the benefits of that, you promised me a nice dinner."

"And we will. I promise I'll take you somewhere really swish. I was hoping to use the money in a more interesting way though."

"Oh?" He pulled the blanket from between them and lay it over their bodies.

"We were talking about getting some sunshine, and we still haven't done anything about it."

"I found a few hotels, we need to sit and look at them together."

"Let's do that tomorrow and get something booked."

"Deal," he kissed her head again. "Wanna watch the rest of this?"

She nodded and cuddled up against him, "I'm staying here though. I'm comfy now."

"That is your spot." He kissed the top of her head, "Unless you want to make an early night of it…"

Charles yawned and stretched his legs, curling his toes into the warmth of the bedding and immediately feeling his body relax. He listened as Elsie turned off the lights and removed her dressing gown.

"Where's my little boy?"

"On the windowsill," he mumbled.

She checked on him before she got into bed, "You think he's gonna want to start going out soon, at night I mean?"

"Dunno," he turned onto his side, burying his face into his pillow. "Natural, I guess," he yawned. "Get in bed."

"I am," she climbed beneath the sheets and snuggled back against him. "Chilly tonight."

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her shoulder, "Soon warm up. I put the blanket on."

"This shows our age." She inched back against him, feeling his mouth on the back of her neck. "I don't want him to go outside without one of us, what if he doesn't come back?"

"You're kidding me. That kitty knows which side his bread is buttered, he's going nowhere."

"I hope not." She turned onto her back, leaning up to his kiss. His eager hands wandered over her body, lifting her hips up to him. "Mm, I see you're suddenly awake." She smiled against his mouth.

"Shh…" he rolled over onto his back pulling her with him; she giggled as her body fell on top of his.

"Charles…" she groaned, deepening the kiss.

"Ah, shit!" He rolled them forward again, gasping and reaching behind him.

"What?"

"What the hell is this?" He fussed behind him, searching for something in the sheets and Elsie turned on the lamp. "It's a bloody hairbrush!" Charles exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry." She took it from him, "That's mine. I must've thrown it on the bed this morning."

"Jabbed me in the arse."

She chuckled, "Oh dear Mr Carson, that's a different kind of foreplay all together."

"Not funny."

"I don't know," she laughed again as he rubbed his bottom. "Maybe you like that kind of thing, for me to give you a good spanking with it. Paddling, is that what they call it?"

"You'd find humour in every bloody situation," he smiled, laying down again. "Kinda ruined the moment."

"I don't know. You were worried we might be getting boring, this would certainly liven things up."

"I do not want to be spanked with your hairbrush. Christ almighty, why people go in for that stuff? Agony."

"You should pay more attention to what you're lying on. Maybe I should use a different name whist we're engaging in it – Candycane or ohh Chesty Leroux. I've wanted to use that for a while."

He shook his head despairingly.

"What would your name be?"

"Charles," he said deadpan and she laughed harder, resting her head on his chest.

"I don't know, teaching my little boy naughty ways."

"Well, he best close his ears because I'm going to have my wicked way with his mother."

"Are you indeed, with or without the involvement of a hairbrush?"

"Elsie…" he drawled, "or do you prefer Chesty for short?" He was laughing as he tickled her waist, covering her chest in kisses as she rolled across their bed and he moved after her.

"What do you want to do to me?" She teased, lifting her feet to press against his stomach, keeping him at arm's length. "Chaaarles…"

He sat back, pulling off his t-shirt and throwing it aside. "Just you wait."

"Tease."

"She says with her heel in my groin."

"Want me to put the brush there instead?"

"Drop it with the brush," he pressed his hands to her knees, "otherwise I'm just going to roll over and go to sleep."

"Oh really?"

He parted her knees and moved on top of her and she simultaneously wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him tight against her.

"I don't think you could," she said, wiggling beneath him. "Not without a cold shower."

He gazed down at her smiling face, the shine to her clear eyes. "Elsie Hughes," he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face, spreading it out over the bed.

"Yes?" She lifted her chin, her nose nudging his and they smiled into their kiss.

His mouth moved over her neck, he took his time, enjoying the feel of her body beneath his, the way she responded to his touch. She was holding his left hand in her right, lifting it up over their heads, stretched across the mattress, their fingers enclosed around the others.

He felt his toes touch the carpet, his knees bent awkwardly on the edge of the mattress and he slipped down to the floor until he was kneeling by the bed. She yelped in excited surprise as he pulled her towards him, his strong hands on her thighs.

She gasped his name as he ran his thumb between her legs, her free hand reaching down to grasp his and still his movements. He kissed her lower belly, pushed himself up with both hands against the mattress and Elsie watched as he removed his pyjama bottoms.

"This is the height of seduction," she teased, stretching on the bed. "We're the wrong way round, you'll never fit on the bed like this."

"Stop talking," he bent over her again, kissing her, his tongue stroking hers, one hand cupping her breasts.

Her hands stroked up his back as his mouth shifted to her breasts.

"God, I love it when you do that," she breathed, a worship as he lavished attention upon her nipple in his mouth. "It feels so good."

"Everything about you feels good," his palms smoothed over her belly to her hips, lifting her pelvis again as he moved back to his knees. He was probably too old for this and might regret it in the morning but right now nothing else mattered but tasting her and hearing that wonderful sound she made when he did. He'd go anywhere, pay anything, make any sacrifice, to hear her whisper his name in the way she did when wrapped up in her pleasure.

When the tension in her stomach got too much she pressed one hand against his head and pushed herself forward, one leg either side of him, feet pressing against the floor as she moved. Their mouths met frantically, his arms tight around her, and somehow she managed to fall from the bed and into his lap and they both laughed when he groaned at the pressure on his knees.

She pressed against his shoulders as he sat back on the carpet, unfurling his legs and stretching them out as she simultaneously rearranged herself and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Lord above you're good," he panted as she moved her hips, taking him inside her. "So, so good for me."

She hummed her response, consumed by pleasure, her mouth seeking his again. "I love you so much," she whispered into the kiss.

One of his hands was pressed against the side of the bed, supporting them, the other spread wide against her back, fingers flexing against her shoulder blade. He would have pledged her anything in that moment, but words had become too difficult to form, even breathing was a chore. She made him forget his own name.

He somehow held back, bit his lip, fixated on her face, watching as she melted before him, on him, around him. The pitch of her voice rising alongside her orgasm; she giggled after, and that made him smile. She was happy and that filled him. She pressed her hand against his chest and he lay back, letting her rise above him, his hands on her hips.

Elsie gazed down at him, a lopsided smile on her face, the deep intensity on his. She watched his eyes darken as she lifted her hips, rolled forward, back, slow, slowly. His lips parted, just slightly, and she imagined feeling the long breath escape him, coloured with the edges of a groan, a gasp.

"Happy 2nd Valentine's," she whispered. "My love."

No fancy restaurant or extravagant hotel could be bring him more joy.

"This is the longest relationship I've had," she whispered, tucked neatly against his chest, warm, sated, content. "Fourteen months nearly."

"Really?"

"A-ha. Isn't it yours?"

"Two years and three months, that's my longest."

"Oh," she pouted, running her nails over his chest.

Charles squeezed her shoulder, kissed the top of her head, "You sulking?"

"No…"

"I can sense it."

"I want to be your longest relationship."

"You're the most important, does that count?"

She shrugged, "A little."

He chuckled, "Child."

"Well. I'll be sticking around, like it or not, I like to win and I've still got another year to go if I'm going to beat this other bitch."

"Am I suddenly a competition?"

"No, course not," she kissed his chest appealingly. "But I'm still going to win."

"You already have. Several times over."

Elsie looked up as Charles suddenly jerked his head.

"Ow! I'm a catastrophe area tonight."

"What's going on now?" She asked.

"Socks; guess my eyeball is a nice place to sleep."

She twisted over, "Where is he?"

"Curling into a ball on the other pillow. My pillow."

"Well, stay here, this side, don't turn over in the night, you'll crush his little body."

"He should be in his basket."

"It's cold and he wants to be near us, be nice, you wanted him after all."

"Yes, I do want a pet, I thought it'd be nice for us, to share something like that. But that doesn't mean we forego rules."

"We'll teach him rules when he's older." She giggled, "You old grump."

"Thanks very much."

"How's the bottom?"

"Sore. Why people do that for pleasure is beyond me."

"People like all sorts," she yawned, cuddling even closer. "I guess doing it on the carpet didn't help neither."

"It," he chuckled. "Doing it!"

"You know," she smirked, "Stop talking, I'm working tomorrow."

"You're the one rabbiting on." He closed his eyes, feeling her kiss his chest again. "Night night."

"Night darling, love you."

"I love you too…" he smirked, "Candycane."

Saturday 18th February

Elsie was a little behind the others. The venue was an old manor house on a sprawling estate; she'd driven them to the door then gone to park, as confusing as the parking arrangements were, before walking the gravel path alone to reception.

It was the kind of late winter morning she always liked; a white sky, a pale sun, and the crispness of the day taking her forward.

She'd left Charles searching B&Q online; ever since the painting gift he'd decided he needed some kind of decent sized shed in the garden where he could keep his materials. 'If I'm going to get back into it,' he had said, 'I want to be serious about it.'

He'd sketched plans for shelves where his materials would be carefully organised and stored, and gone back to his old apartment to bring over unused canvases and old brushes. It seemed an eternity since he'd painted anything decent and with his hand the way it was he still wondered if he could manage it. She'd indulged him, there was room behind the garage for a shed, they'd just need to clear away some plant life and trim the hedge back. And besides, she felt like she still owed him something, like she was still trying to do the best by him.

"Cocktails then?" Beryl said, getting up from the couch as Elsie came through the entrance.

"I need to pee first."

"There's toilets downstairs," Isobel said, hooking her arm through Elsie's. "Come on, let's have champagne cocktails before we go into the spa. What time's your massage?"

"Not til 11, I thought I might swim first."

"We'll all do that," Beryl agreed. "Swim, get the exercise bit done, then laze about the rest of the day."

"Fab Christmas gift," Elsie said, thanking Isobel.

"You're welcome. Let's go sit in the lounge, I've something to tell you both."

"I think we're bringing down the average age," Beryl said, laughing.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Elsie glanced around the bar area, "We might be just about joining the average age."

"Don't say that," Beryl insisted. "I don't want to think of myself as some kind of doddery old fool quite yet. Taking coach trips to quiet hotels around the country and taking up ballroom dancing for the afternoon session."

Elsie sniggered as Isobel carried their tray of drinks over. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Beryl was just looking forward to the afternoon entertainment."

"I know! Have you seen what it is? I feel like Lionel Blair might turn up to direct proceedings." Isobel handed the glasses around. "Now, wait, before we drink I want to say something."

"Is this some heartfelt speech about how you love us blah blah blah?" Beryl said, lifting the glass to her mouth.

Isobel touched her arm to stop her drinking, "No. Much more serious. You see, Valentine's, well, Richard proposed…" she paused, taking in their expressions. "…And I said yes."

"What?!" Beryl gasped, "I can't cope with this! First Anna hitching it up the aisle and now you."

"Well, not quite yet. And it will only be small. Very small. Low key."

"Don't make it so small we can't see it," Beryl laughed, tapping her glass against Isobel's. "Good for you darling, make the most of every day is what I say."

"Elsie…?" Isobel asked timidly. "You don't think it's too soon?"

"What?" She shook her head, shaking herself free of her own selfish reflection, "Of course not." She smiled, leaning in to kiss her friend's cheek. "Congratulations, of course," she joined in the toast and took a long drink of her cocktail. "I'm really happy for you both. Richard must be ecstatic."

"Over the moon," Isobel smiled, "we both are actually. I didn't think I wanted marriage but when he said the words I just…" she pressed her hand against her chest.

"When you know, you know," Beryl said.

"How…?" Elsie started, but then a young lady arrived to escort them down to the spa and show them around the facilities.

"How what?" Isobel asked as the three of them followed the attendant through pale decorated corridors filled with the scent of lavender and the delicate chimes of relaxing background music.

"Sorry?" Elsie said.

"Just then, you said 'how' but then never finished."

"Oh," she shrugged, "How did he propose? I guess that was it."

"Just after dinner, we were walking home and he just stopped and asked, just like that. There's no ring yet, we'll go look for one together. I wanted to tell you both, before anyone else." She squeezed Elsie's arm, "I wanted to call straight after and tell you."

"But you were too busy doing something else, we know." Beryl said, holding the door open for them.

"Really Beryl," Isobel sighed, "One doesn't discuss their sex life in public."

It was raining in the afternoon, great sheets of rain that swung in diagonally against the car. They were partway to Beryl's house when it hit. Isobel and Beryl were laughing over something, a shared joke, and Elsie was focussed on the road ahead, gripping onto the steering wheel and staring at the white line along the middle of the road.

She turned into Beryl's drive, distracted, pretending by the weather.

Beryl leant between the seats, one hand on each woman's shoulder. "So, that was a grand day."

"Lots of fun," Isobel agreed, reaching up to squeeze Beryl's hand. "Let's go again soon, we don't do enough of that kind of thing. Fun things together."

"We used to, til you two shacked up with the opposite sex." Beryl teased. "Happy for you though," she added, leaning in to kiss Isobel's cheek. "Really happy. Nobody deserves it more."

"Thank you sweetheart."

Elsie breathed deeply, returning Beryl's hug and feigning a smile, but inside her heart felt leaden. Her skin prickled, her pulse racing.

"What's wrong with me?" Elsie whispered, watching Beryl run for the cover of her front door. Her voice cracked when she said it again, "What's wrong with me?"

Isobel turned slightly in her seat, her voice soft, full of concern when she spoke. "I don't know darling." She reached across to touch her arm, "But I want to help, I will try, if you let me."

Elsie lifted her head to respond, "I don't know where to start." She shrugged, "I see you making this decision and how happy you are, you seem content and secure and I feel such a mass of contradictions. I don't know what would be the bigger mistake; saying yes or continuing to say no."

"I can't answer that."

Elsie pushed the car into gear, "We best go, she'll wonder what's wrong." The vehicle jerked out into the road, and she slammed on the breaks at the red light at the junction, the rain soaked windscreen hampering her view. She wiped angrily at her face.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "Risking your life."

"Pull up," Isobel directed, and Elsie turned the corner, indicated and came to a stop at the side of the road. "Now, let's be honest here." She opened her handbag, passing a handkerchief to her friend. "Will you be honest with me?"

Elsie nodded, "I don't make it my business to lie to people."

"No." Isobel breathed deeply, "But perhaps you're not being honest with yourself."

The rain pounded against the roof of the car, a thudding rhythm as Elsie lifted her eyes to meet Isobel's.

"Has this all just gotten out of hand, with Charles?"

"I don't know what –,"

"I mean, dating him, did it go too quickly? Moving in and then…"

"No," Elsie said quickly, interrupting. "Not at all, I'm very much," she closed her eyes. "I really do love him, I never thought I'd find anyone," she looked to her friend, eyes wide and moist with tears. "I want to be with him. That isn't the problem."

"And so, what then?"

"I don't know, I wish I did. It's like there's a niggling something here," she angrily tapped the side of her head. "I can't stop it, every time he mentions anything to do with marriage, commitment, I feel myself seize up and back away. I don't want to be like that, I don't want to push him away through my own faulty gene. There must be something wrong with me Izzy, I couldn't ask for me than he gives, I don't want more…"

"Oh darling," she pulled Elsie towards her, uncomfortably hugging her across the handbrake. "Nobody's pushing you into anything, nobody's rushing you. If you're not ready then so be it, if you're never ready…" she shrugged. "Then so be that too. Not everyone has to marry."

"I'm letting him down," Elsie said softly. "As much as he proclaims he's content, I know when he hears your news there'll be this disquiet in his soul. He's an old-fashioned sort, he likes to do things the right way and the next logical step for us is marriage."

"Can you find what stops you? Pinpoint it, I mean."

She shook her head, "God I wish I could, I wish I could dig it out like some defective worm." She laughed sharply, "My father always said I'd never marry, I was far too proud."

Isobel rolled her eyes, "Parents know how to fill you with confidence." She squeezed Elsie's hand, "Shall we go get a coffee somewhere, talk some more?"

Elsie wiped her face clean, "No, I can't. I promised Charles I'd be back, he's making something nice for dinner." She snuffled. "Thank you though, for listening to me ramble."

"You don't have to thank me, I'm your friend, that's my job." She touched her hand again, "There are a lot of people that love you Elsie, don't forget that."

Sunday 19th February

At some point in the night they'd managed to swap sides in bed; Elsie was facing the door, Socks above her head asleep on Charles' pillow – he seemed to prefer it there, perhaps the smell of him comforted the kitten.

Elsie rolled onto her back, feeling Charles' hand move with her body. Her eyes were still closed and she felt him inch down the bedsheets, his palm ghosting over her stomach, over her ribcage, beneath her breasts.

Her skin felt like silk: warm, soft, inviting. He tilted his head forward and placed a kiss to her shoulder. Elsie opened her eyes, turned her head slightly to look at him.

"Good morning," he said. "I see we're in a threesome again."

She laughed at that, turning over to lean against his chest momentarily before kissing his cheek. He turned too then, facing her on their shared pillow.

"So, I've been meaning to tell you something."

"Oh?" He queried, yawning. "That sounds dubious, the Italian guy hasn't come back has he? Threatening my position in your bed."

"Don't be ridiculous. He'd never share his pillow with a cat."

Charles rolled his eyes, "Well, we're on thin ground with that. Only the fact you're so beautiful has swung it."

She smiled, running her fingers over his shoulder as she cuddled closer to him. "So, Izzy and Richard got engaged, on Valentine's."

Charles breathed slowly, "Oh."

"She told me yesterday at the spa."

"And you've been building up to breaking the news, or waiting til I was in a good mood?"

"Don't be…" she huffed, looking up at him. "Felt awkward, discussing it."

He shrugged, "It is what it is. Thus goes everyone to the world but I, and I am sunburnt."

"That's something I don't get."

He brushed her hair from her face, noted her wide eyes, the slightly worried expression. "Look it up. Or I'll take you to see the play, an outdoor one would be great, maybe this summer."

She chewed her lip. "Be honest with me."

"Aren't I always?" He touched her face and she smiled softly; her eyes as blue as the ocean, the morning sun dancing over her beautiful face as she looked up at him. He felt consumed with joy, complete with it. And he wanted nothing more than to bathe in that wondrous feeling for eternity, to somehow breathe yet more life into it and watch it grow and flourish each and every day.

"Marry me," he said gently, "I do wonder why…" he shook his head and the joy and peace in her eyes was gone. He felt his chest deflate and he groaned, "Sorry, sorry. Shouldn't have said anything."

"Because of Izzy?" She pulled the bedsheet back up over her body, twisting towards him. "You ask again because of them?"

"Forget it, I should keep my mouth shut."

"No don't, don't be upset."

She turned over to face him, wide awake now, the restfulness of sleep quickly evaporated. "I don't want you to be angry with me," she moved her body so she was leaning over him, and kissed his mouth, holding his face in her hands. "It's not that I don't love you –,"

"I know that…" He interrupted.

"It's this feeling, something inside whenever you ask and I can't… I wish I could explain it."

"I wish I could get inside your head." He said, his tone slightly harder.

"I want to, I wish I could shake it. It's like something holding me back, something I'm unsure of and I hate myself for it because I love you, I know that, I'm certain of that. And I want us to be together."

"I'm gonna go have a shower."

"Don't go. I don't want us to argue, I hated those weeks."

"We won't argue."

"But you're hurt, I'm hurting you."

He sighed, "As I said, I brought it on myself, I should stop stupidly uttering the words."

She didn't want that neither; why did she have to be such a mass of contradictions? "Charles…"

"What's the feeling?"

"What?"

"You said there's something inside holding you back – what is it?"

"I…" she licked her lips, "Uncertainty maybe. Fear. Like something… it's like something is unresolved, like there's a piece missing. Whenever you ask I feel my chest pull tight, like I can't breathe."

"Anxiety?"

"Maybe."

"I'm glad I evoke such a lovely response."

"Don't be… Oh God, I'm making such a mess of this." She flopped onto her back again, freeing him, and he got out of bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress and reaching for his dressing gown.

"I'll go get a shower."

She reached over to touch his back, "Sweetheart. I don't want to make you sad."

"You make me unquestionably happy 99.9% of the time." He said, getting up from the bed and reaching to squeeze her hand. "It'll be fine. It shouldn't matter so much to me, not really, we're here together. What more can there be…?"

Elsie licked her lips, sitting up, brushing her hair back from her face. "Shall we go for a walk? The weather is dry."

"Cold though," he said, "We'll go, let's drive up to the Moors, do a real walk."

"I do love you, Charles."

"I know. And I love you too. Always will."

Sorry for the delay - exam period and I'm in the process of moving house so mad busy times! xx R