So I know this has been slow: massive apologies if anybody has been reading this and waiting on the next instalment. I got distracted by The Breakfast Club. As a quick recap of where this has got to, Cat and Roger are living in relative harmony in London, yet on a visit back to New York to see Mark and Stacey's baby, Cat finally realised that Roger was never going to allow them to have their own children because of his illness. After a few days of wondering whether she wanted children more than Roger, Cat has accepted Roger's proposal. And here we pick up again...


Two days later, it was as though the ring had always been on my finger. I couldn't quite believe it. It was like it had moulded itself to me, or I'd moulded myself to it; I wasn't one-hundred per cent sure which way it worked. But I liked it.

I wasn't the only one. Lyn and Michael had both, in their own ways, expressed their pleasure at my becoming ever so slightly closer to being a real member of their family. Michael had acknowledged the ring with a nod and a 'Fits alright?' In contrast, Lyn had found every opportunity to give me affectionate hugs and squeezes, actions I thoroughly enjoyed. I tried not to think about how differently my own mother would take the news and concentrated instead on this moment now.

It was Roger's reaction to the ring which made me smile the widest. We'd always slept in almost uncomfortably close proximity to each other. Nothing had changed, except somehow his hand always found my left one and we awoke with him clutching the ring so tightly it left indentations in his palm. Having never really labelled what we had, the word 'fiance' rarely left either of our lips, but his touch would, from now on, always revolve around that ring.

The remaining days at the farm were blissful. Mornings were spent leisurely peeling potatoes or running errands with Lyn whilst Roger and Michael completed the work on the farm; afternoons were our time and we walked further than I thought possible without ever leaving his family's property.

'This place is beautiful,' I remarked one day as we stared down from one of the many hills at the house nestling in the valley. 'I can't believe you ever wanted to leave it.'

'It all worked out for the best in the end, didn't it?' Roger replied, squeezing my hand, and I had to agree. This was the very best.

The night before we were due to head back to New York to spend more time with Mark and Stacey, and actually get around to seeing Maureen and Joanne who had spent Thanksgiving in Las Vegas in the way only they could, we received a phone call from Mark. Roger's initial confusion as to how his room-mate of over ten years had got his home number was met with a cutting response: 'Your mom gave it to me. You know, when you weren't calling her?'

Even so, it was a bizarre occurrence and Roger and I exchanged confused glances as Mark proceeded to shoot the breeze on speakerphone for what felt like forever. Eventually, Roger blurted out, 'Is everything okay?'

'Yeah. Everything's great. Why?'

'We're coming back tomorrow. Couldn't this have waited?'

'Oh. Right. Yeah. Actually… there is a reason I'm calling.' We waited but could never have been prepared for his next statement, delivered in a rush as though he wasn't quite sure how to say it. 'Stacey and me… we're getting married. Tomorrow. Could you come straight to it?'

Stunned silence from our end was eventually broken into by some scuffling and laughter on the other end of the phone.

'What Mark means is,' Stacey said, unable to contain her giggles as she tried to rescue the situation, 'if you could make a detour to Scarsdale on your way home, we've decided to have a very small ceremony. We'd love it if you could come.'

It was an incredibly romantic and spontaneous development, one I'd not have thought the ultra-cautious Mark was capable of. It also gave us precisely zero time to sort out any suitable clothing, something I was still bemoaning as we made our way to Scarsdale the following morning.

'I know Mark and Stacey won't mind and it was really nice of your mum to lend me something but… well… it's not that I don't like her, it's just…' I tailed off as Roger's deep laughter took over the car and I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. 'There's no need to laugh at me.'

'I'm not,' he insisted, taking my hand and lifting it to his still fluttering lips. 'I'm… laughing with you.' When I shot him a sidelong look, he realised his attempts at charming me weren't working especially well and put both hands back on the steering wheel. 'Seriously, Cat, you look nice.'

'Well that's a lie.'

'It's not! I mean, shit, this is hardly a tux, is it?' He gestured down at the jeans and jumper combination he'd thrown together that morning. 'Next to me, you'll look way appropriate.'

I doubted he was right. My own outfit was only one step up from his casual-casual look, having been saved by a dress Lyn had unearthed from her wardrobe which, she admitted, had seen better days. It was a pretty enough floral pattern, and with some careful pinning it even sort of fit, but it was a million miles away from what I usually considered appropriate wedding wear. What's more, it seemed so un-special for a day which, to me at least, felt so very important.

I must have been silent long enough for Roger to notice as his hand crept over mine again, his fingers finding the ring as though it had always been there, and giving me a tight squeeze. 'Cat, you look amazing. You always do.'

'You're biased,' I replied, still unwilling to give in entirely, but unable to prevent a smile breaking out as he shot one in my direction. 'Oh, shut up. I just want today to be special.'

'It will be.' He lifted my hand to his lips again. 'Just enjoy it.'

It was only as we parked the car outside the small hall Stacey had directed us to over the phone that I hesitated. 'Wait.' Roger obeyed the request. 'What about this?' I waggled my ring finger at him, perhaps a little excessively as I enjoyed the way the light bounced off of the stones.

'What about it?'

Rolling my eyes, I said, 'I can hardly upstage the bride can I?'

'Will anyone even notice?'

'I assume Maureen's coming?'

He pulled a face. 'Okay, good point. Here.' He turned the ring deftly around on my finger. 'Just don't go waving it around and nobody will be any the wiser to your terrible decision.'

'Oh, I didn't mean it like that, I meant…' I tailed off as a deliciously devilish grin came across Roger's face. 'I hate you sometimes, you know?'

'No, you don't.' His grin broadened as he took my head in his hands and kissed me in a way which made actually having to leave the car and be with other people suddenly very undesirable.


I'd been to a number of weddings over the past few years and seen all the glitz and glamour that they could offer. Some of them I'd found interminably boring (Amelia's immediately sprang to mind) and some I'd sort of enjoyed. Mark and Stacey's was nothing like any of them, and to my mind, that was a good thing. The strange thing was that I'd expected to find it overly emotional, but instead I found myself laughing far more than crying, something especially helped by Stacey who was the happiest bride I'd ever seen.

'We're so glad you could come!' She flung her arms around both Roger and me on several occasions over the day, mindless to the creases she was imprinting in her dress. Even when Rose was sick on her she shrugged it off and continued as though nothing had happened. If I hadn't already known that she was perfect for Mark, their wedding day confirmed it for me.

'That was,' Maureen declared as the music began winding down for the evening and she slumped down in a vague champagne haze into the chair next to me, 'the best wedding I have ever been to.'

'Amen to that.' Roger clinked glasses with her.

'Oh please don't!' For the first time that day, Stacey actually looked slightly perturbed as she crouched down next to us. When we raised our eyebrows at her she said, a little sheepishly, 'Please don't get Mark's mom going on Hebrew again. I only just survived the last time.'

'Yeah, how did you get away without smashing a glass?' Roger leaned back in his chair with a teasing smile on his face.

'Dangerous around the baby.' Stacey gave him a wink but shook her head at the same time. 'I swear, we only just managed to avoid a serious Cohen family explosion. She's never seemed that Jewish before! We had to get married here in Scarsdale to even mildly appease her.'

'Rose seems to help,' I remarked, glancing at where Mark's mother was proudly showing off her newest grand-daughter to just about everybody she bumped into.

Stacey's face lit up into a warm smile. 'Yeah. Luckily for me, the only thing Mrs Cohen values more highly than going to synagogue is her family, and her grandchildren specifically. If I can give her a grandson, I'm right in there! Speaking of which…' She stood up and shook her red hair back off her shoulders. 'I really should be thinking about getting my beautiful daughter home. Not something I thought I'd be saying at my own wedding, but whatever. Life turns on a dime.'

As if by magic, Mark appeared by her side. 'You want to go home?'

Stacey smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist. 'Starting to think about it. But first… you need to spend some time with your friends.' With a gentle push, she directed him towards us. 'I'm gonna go make nice with Cindy.'

'Under the thumb already,' Maureen remarked with a mischievous look on her face. 'Careful Marky.'

'You were ever expecting anything else?' Roger quipped.

'Oh come on, give him a break.' I gave Roger a playful slap on the leg before snuggling ever closer to him. 'Have you had a nice day, Mark?'

Unused to being in the spotlight like that, he looked momentarily flustered. 'Um, yeah. Yeah, it's been…' He glanced between us all for one moment before breaking out into the widest grin I'd ever seen him give. 'It's been amazing.'

'It's been perfect!' Maureen declared before hiccupping loudly. 'The champagne especially has been a highlight.'

'Noted.' Joanne raised her eyebrows. 'We should probably be heading off soon.'

'It's early! We used to stay up all night!' Maureen wailed.

'That was before we got old and married,' Mark commented wryly, even as his face betrayed the fact that he rather preferred being old and married. 'Anyway, I do stay up all night.'

'I don't think Maureen was counting night feeds,' I laughed.

'Are we still okay to crash at yours?' Roger asked suddenly, and I realised it was something I hadn't even considered. I wondered when Roger had started thinking practically rather than impulsively and whether that made him any less attractive. His hand on my hip rather argued the case for 'no'. 'Cause we can find a hotel if you want.'

'Don't be stupid.' Mark's face showed he'd never even considered that either, testament to his loyalty to his friends. 'Stacey's put fresh sheets on and everything.'

'But…. Well… it's your wedding night.' Roger stressed the words even as he looked a little uncomfortable saying them, much to my amusement. Clearly discussing your sex life with your friends was perfectly acceptable up until rings were involved.

'And we've got a six-week-old baby.' Mark matched his best friend word for word. 'We'll be crashing long before you will.'

'Speak for yourself.' Stacey re-joined us, seating herself ceremonially in Mark's lap. When her new husband gave her a slightly startled look, she added, 'What? We've got some catching up to do if we're to keep up with your sister.'

Roger's arms tightened ever so slightly around me and I knew why. For the next few months, whenever babies were mentioned, I'd find Roger's hand wrapped around mine or his eyes resting on my face, as though his sheer physical being could somehow make things better. There was no cure-all patch for this one, but he was a pretty good sticking plaster. Now I leaned back into his hold and found, for the first time in many months, that I was truly happy.

'We should do this more often,' Maureen said after a short period of silence, her tone so much calmer than usual that we all looked at her in surprise. 'This. Us.' She gestured around a little fuzzily. 'Like…' She shrugged unable to find the right words, but we knew what she meant, and the unspoken absence of Collins was felt by all of us.

'Anyone want some more champagne?' I said after another silence, momentarily embarrassed considering I was a leading cause for why 'this' couldn't happen more regularly. They responded as was only to be expected.

'Yeah!'

'If we can get a ride back with you.'

'Driving.'

'Better not.'

'Breastfeeding.' And then, 'What's that?'

I froze, my hand around the bottle and my mistake instantly clear to me. Raising my eyes to Stacey's I wondered if it was possible to shrug it off. But the red-head was not to be put off and she wrenched my hand off of the bottle more violently than I thought even Maureen would be capable of.

'Is this… are you… engaged?'

I looked at Roger. This was sort of his fault, after all; he could help to deal with the fall-out at the very least.

'Uh… sort of…' He scratched his neck uncomfortably

'What?' Maureen exclaimed, her unfilled glass forgotten about.

'You're engaged?' Mark's jaw could not have dropped further.

'Uh, yes?' I pulled my hand away from Stacey's grip and turned the ring around on my finger self-consciously. 'Roger proposed a couple of days ago and… I said yes.' I saw Roger's suppressed smile as I waggled my fingers for everybody in just the way he'd told me not to.

The announcement was met with the same stunned silence as Mark's phone call had been last night. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and waited, unsure how they'd take the news. For one horrible moment I thought that they'd hate the idea.

'And you weren't going to tell us?' Mark's voice, when it came, was small and the note of hurt within it was obvious. It was precisely what I hadn't anticipated: that they'd see our secrecy as some kind of betrayal.

'Yes! We just… we didn't want to spoil your day.' I bit my lip as I spoke our reasoning out loud. It had sounded so logical inside the car this morning and yet now…

'How would that spoil our day?' Stacey demanded, before pulling me to my feet. 'Come here! That's amazing news! Congratulations!'

It was as though the ice had not only been broken but well and truly smashed. The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs, kisses and well-wishes. Unused to quite so much physical contact from anyone except Roger, I found myself blushing and retreating back into the English reserve which I'd lived within all my life. It was only when I was handed on to Mark that I found myself again. His hug reminded me of the family I was attaching myself to, a family who had chosen each other rather than merely being tied together with strings of chromosomes. For the first time all day I felt tears spring to my eyes as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

'Collins would be really pleased,' was all he said, and I knew he was right. Today would have been his very happiest day and I hoped that, if he was able to, he was watching us at that moment. He'd have loved it.