Please don't feel you have to review as I know so many of you did the first time round, I just thought I'd put this up as I'd actually finished it. Hope you are all doing okay in this strange strange time and if this story helps you pass even a few minutes of lock down then I've helped a little and obviously the original OG has helped too. Take care. W.
Prologue
Pre - Kenya
"I don't fuckin' know, do I?"
"Oh come on Dawesy. Stop pissing about."
Torture. This is similar to the horrific memories of blank minds, empty tear stained jotters and disappointed teachers of my school days. The pressure from Charles detracting from any ability I might have to think up something romantic.
Going for the other kind of romance, I sling my leg over my favourite body in the whole world until I'm straddling him, ensuring our faces are level and I can read the tight lipped, raised eyebrow unamused expression. Except there's something else there, I know. Pressing our noses together I stare into his eyes, checking for the familiar glint of humour, shining from behind his irises; like a beacon guiding me home - to him. Maybe that's it, I try it out, those exact words in my head, sounding them, but no, he'd piss himself laughing if I suggested those words for our vows, now and at the ceremony. I giggle at the thought. Wrong move.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, lifting my body to a position that doesn't allow friction on his groin, he exhales a loud breath. It also means he can roll onto his side and reach over to the other side of the bed for his precious notebook and pen, ready to write my declaration of love in the cream parchment, ticking another job off the list. I love him, but god he isn't half such a bloody jobsworth.
"These are the most important words you will ever have to say."
"Are you sure?" I ask, making sure I scrunch up my nose to let him know I'm not quite getting the need for all this bollocks heart on sleeve stuff.
"Yes." He exclaims, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. "Of course they fucking are."
"Well I certainly ain't sayin' in sickness 'n' in health, cause I've seen you with Man Flu, 'n' once was enough - next time you get it, I'll be packing' my bags 'n' doing a runner.."
"Oh Dawes, let's not even get onto the subject of who has the highest pain threshold. Three words for you….. Nursery. Slope. Aspen."
"Noooooooo…...you ain't bringing that up."
"I just did." Charles says with defiant proudness.
"The Doctor said he'd never seen such a bad sprain."
"I was translating remember? I made that up. Didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"He was speakin' in bleedin' English?"
"Exactly. You would never have understood him."
My eyes narrow. My brain working out a way to make this even, and wipe the smug smirk off his face. "Okay….. I've got it. Whilst you're in good health, 'n' rich, 'n' don't have a receding hairline…. How about that?"
"I think my hairline is receding…...Look….." Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Charles rests his back against the headboard, pulling his fringe backwards to reveal, well his forehead and I'm pretty sure it's the same amount of forehead that's always been there. "Does that mean you don't love me, and you don't want to spend the rest of your life with me?" He has such a look of self pity on his face, his bottom lip is pouting.
I give in straight away.
"Of course I still love you, you daft prannet. I think I'll probably love you forever."
"Ditch the think and probably Dawes…. I'm only accepting forever."
4 Years After Nepal - Present Day
"And he phoned me he did, Mum, he said, I've met the one…. I said what do you mean Son; the one? I thought he was talking about someone from school, you know what they were like for nicknames..."
Zoning out, I let the voices wash over. I'm not the centre of attention, which is perfectly fine, it's my future Mother-in-Law who's holding court. To be honest, I'm relieved. I'd had this horrible premonition whilst I was stuffing a Tesco Value chicken in the hope it would pass as an organic corn fed one, that it would all be wedding talk; dresses, flowers, honeymoons - you know the score. Instead it's all been how 'Doris' at the Chapel had helped organise the most perfect wedding, with flowers on each pew and how they thought this would suit Liam. Yeah, like he'd really care.
Turning, I look at my fiance, his features soft in the flickering of the candle, his full lips smiling, and his snub nose scrunched up with humour at his mum's story. There's only kindness on his face, I've never yet seen him angry - he says it's a waste of energy and once you've got to that point you've lost anyway. I'm a little bit different, once I was referred to as a mini rottweiler, in a fond way, by someone who saw me losing my shit with a parking attendant, but we lived on the bloody street, I was unpacking a Waitrose shop, you can't give someone a ticket for that can you?
Anyway, Liam and I have been together nearly 2 years and I've yet to see him take an interest in anything other than cars and football. There's not a bad bone in his body, a few lazy ones to be fair but yeah, he's what I need, calmness, no drama and he loves me. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him. We've already decided we're going to have 2 kids, no more, and hopefully no less. There's a pattern in my family line of the female giving up her life to bring up about a hundred little bleeders; my plan is to break it. I have a career, a social life and I am determined to live every minute of this goddamn life.
"And then when I met Molly, I thought yes, she is the one for my son. Knew it right away, I did."
"Tell us again, how you met?" Bernard asks, leaning back against the chair, smiling kindly at the two of us. Liam leans in closer, rubs his knuckles against my hand. I grin at the memory.
'Well, from the first time I met Molly…"
Which was a pissing wet day on the hard shoulder of the M4; not exactly a romantic meeting. In my defence, the idea to put off a hefty car bill until the end of the month by tying up the exhaust of my little peugeot with some duct tape seemed clever. It even worked…. for 15 miles... Just enough to get onto the motorway and optimistically settled into the middle lane before there was a loud crash, my exhaust hitting the tarmac, and without any exaggeration, sparks were flying enough for other cars to allow me safe passage across the lanes to safety, where Polly the Peugeot and I came to an abrupt enforced rest. Chin on the steering wheel, watching the rain lashing off the windscreen and listening to sad songs for the over 25's on Sad FM, I thanked my lucky stars my sister Bella had bought me breakdown cover for my Christmas, and not just any cover, the pièce de résistance of car breakdown cover - AA 5 star relay! My sister is the nuts, even if she has gatecrashed today.
"It was love at first sight…'
A little bit surprising, seeing as my first words to him - 'you bloody took long enough to get here, I'll be writing to soddin' watchdog 'n' the Daily Mail about your bleedin' misleading adverts' - wouldn't exactly go down as the most romantic first introduction to your future partner.
'...and you just had this fantastic energy..'
Starting a gentle run down the soaking wet slippery grass bank from my police appointed place of safety, away from the busy motorway, I'd been desperate to get to the warmth and safety of the yellow van with the familiar signage. Misjudging the gradient I'd gathered impressive momentum and was practically doing a Usain Bolt for the last 5 metres which meant I landed, with force, into Liam's chest. Embarrassed I'd looked up, ready to apologise, only for him to grin, something changing in my world with the innocence of another human being happy to see me - believe you me, working in the NHS it doesn't happen often.
"...And well, here we are now."
"Here we are now." I lift up my glass, clink it against Liam's.
"Always thought our Son would end up with a Nurse, just knew it in my bones, I turned to Bernard, and I said, Bernard-"
"You said she's the one love, that's what you said. And you were right. Always right is my Peggy."
"Oh Bernard, you tease. You want extra pudding don't you?"
Bernard and Peggy is what I aspire to. Have been married 35 years and counting. I think part of why they've stayed together so long is Mr H's ability to never argue with his wife, he accepts everything, takes his to-do list everyday and doesn't sit back on the couch to watch his programmes until every single hinge has been oiled, kitchen tap leak fixed and weed pulled up from their immaculate driveway. Their relationship is also a testament to staying together through thick and thin. Met, fell in love and lived in a culture and period of time where you didn't upsticks and leave if the notion took you. Even if your husband more than looked at another female, or one of you woke up one day and realised the person by your side probably wasn't who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with; you smiled, put your lippy on and made sure the dinner was on the table in time each night. Mrs H has often told me she doesn't understand divorce, thinks anyone who breaks the sanctity of marriage should be struck down by God. Thankfully God seems to not have headed her words.
"Yes love, a celebration like today, you can't watch your waistband can you?"
I laugh, or maybe smile is a better description, somehow I've perfected the art of the silent giggle over the years. I'd like to call it maturity. "I'll get you some Mr H." Pushing my seat back, I stand, starting to gather plates. "You wanting custard with it?"
"I shall refer you to my previous statement Molly love."
I would say he stopped watching his waistband in about 1905, but politely I increase my smile, adding some cutlery to my already heavy load to take through.
"Bernard has never said no to my pudding's have you dear? He won't eat anyone else's pudding except for mine."
"I hope that ain't a euphemism?" I say.
I regret my words immediately. Sometimes I forget, you know, I have one sense of humour - they have another. Or maybe they think that of me too, but either way I let my hair hang in front of my face, hiding my mortification. Trying not to look at Mrs H's lips silently mouth the words trying to work out what I could mean. Liam, my so far quiet Fiance's face is unimpressed when I look at him. Normally he'd find a quip like that amusing, just not when it's directed to his parents apparently.
"Molly's only complimenting your puddings Mum."
"I really hope that ain't a euphemism." Sniggers my sister, leaning over and pouring herself another glass of wine. Mistakenly I catch her eye, quickly looking away because I think she's on the fine line of seriously losing it, and if she's going to lose it, then I won't be far behind her.
Bella shouldn't be here, she's the uninvited guest at the table, but when you get so pissed you've emptied your entire stomach on the streets of Reading, well chances of catching the 1.30 train back to London are pretty slim. And, I've enjoyed having her here, the extra pair of hands to get a Sunday Lunch ready has been appreciated. Liam hasn't lifted a finger.
"Do you need some help, Molls." Right on cue, pointedly Bella looks across the table at my fiance, but there isn't much point, his head is bent in the direction of his Dad, a serious conversation going on about spark plugs. Noisily she scrapes her chair back, standing and lifting her wine glass. "Mr & Mrs Hand cock, can I get you anymore wine or maybe some-"
"It's Hancock love."
"Is that not what I said?"
Sometimes I feel conflicted, I love my sister, probably more than anyone else in the world but I really wish she wouldn't wind up my future family. Liam's recently started to pick up on her barely concealed barbed comments. He thinks I should have a word with her, but my sister is a law unto herself, which is apt seeing as that's where she's found her calling - a paralegal in a solicitors office; no one was as surprised as my parents Dave and Belinda when she came back after her first day and hadn't packed it in. I have a sneaky suspicion it's because she's a nosy cow.
"No, you said Hand-"
"Mum, Dad, was it a good Mass this morning?" Liam interrupts. "Flick the kettle on Molly." He finishes with a tight smile, almost like he's apologising for being disappointed, dismissing us.
"Jesus fuck Molly, this is like something out of a 60's TV sitcom." Bella giggles, sitting the wine glass she has rescued on the only space on the kitchen worktop. I wish she'd rescued mine too, I could do with some more alcohol.
"Well you shouldn't really be here, so don't be mean."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. It's like comedy gold." Whispers Bella, dropping down to open the fridge. "What do you want me to do with the Vienetta." She asks, coming back up with a bottle of wine.
"Put it in the bin."
"What a waste. I could take it back, Mum and Dad love a Vienetta."
I love a Vienetta too, especially the mint one I bought, but Mrs H arrived with her spotted dick pudding, homemade custard and in a whirlwind of Chanel No 5 set about reheating it. "And how would you stop it from melting?"
"Fair point, I'll maybe start eating it now, I'm starting to get the munchies." Telepathically my sister picks up on my desire for more alcohol, handing me her glass whilst she chooses to swig out of the wine bottle and use a teaspoon to dig into the the rejected pudding. It's a moment of calm. Behind me, the dishes piling up on the worktop, the pots and pans are forgotten, I stand, sip from my wine and stare at a wall until there's the sound of a snigger…..
"Ooohhh Bernard, you've put too much of my dick in your mouth." Bella, manages to say with a straight face. God knows how.
Within seconds, tears are rolling down my face, the wine glass in my hand trembling. "Dick's your favourite too Peggy love, lets not lie."
"Don't… don't… please don't Molly…. "
My cockney accent doesn't quite translate to their perfect home counties accent, but I still give it a bash. "It's all in the rising, you know the Dick's ready when it's risen properly."
"Oh god no, I think a bit of pee just came out."
I close my eyes to try and compose myself. Sometimes I don't like being too happy; feel out of control with the emotions. Not that I'm not happy, of course I am, life is good, I just prefer to keep my endorphins under check, where I can keep a tab of them; maybe what I'm saying is I don't like to be ecstatic.
And of course, there is also a bit of guilt that I'm laughing at two innocent people, sitting in the next room thinking I'm making them coffee.
Bella must have the same opinion because with a final shuddering sigh, she spoons another mouthful of vienetta and looks at me with her big green eyes.
"I can't wait to tell Mum and Dad….."
Or maybe she doesn't.
"...Did that really happen though? Do they not know what they are saying, it's the 21st century. Does Creepy Liam never pick up on it?"
"Don't call him that." I mutter into my wine glass, why I bother I have no idea. Bella's called him that since the first time they met. No matter how many times I've asked her not to and he's told her he hates it; she insists. Once she even convinced him, with the help of my Nan, it was a term of endearment. As bleedin' if.
"Why not? Suits him."
"No it doesn't."
"Yes it does."
"Why do you call him that?"
"Because he's well creepy, he's a creepy geezer, he's just, well, creepy... And it rhymes with his name. Like Arsehole Artan, Chiseled Cha-"
"It does not rhyme with his name, creepy Colin would, 'n' it would be an alliteration, not rhyming but."
"What's an alliteration?" She asks, which is surprising, 'cause I'd have thought Bella would know.
"Like, Arsehole Artan, Creepy Colin, or I dunno', something like Loser Liam-" I explain.
"Fine." Bella, hits me on the nose with her spoon, her eyes twinkling. "Loser Liam it'll be."
I didn't half fall for that.
"You are happy for me though, ain't you?" I ask, unsure where the question has come from and why I suddenly need the reassurance of my sister, standing in the small maisonette kitchen with my future family in the next room.
I can feel Bella's shoulders shrugging, another spoonful of ice cream taken before her arm circles around my waist and pulls me close. "If you're happy, then I'm happy. I just wish we had more time…"
"What, for drinking London dry?" I ask unsure what we need more time for. I'm 28, she's 26 'n' a half. We've had nearly all our bleedin' lives together. Growing up on a housing estate in East London, sharing a bedroom together, there was nothing but togetherness in the Dawes household. "Or did you want to travel the world?" Which is maybe it, 'cause unlike me who joined the army, spending 5 years seein' things I can't unsee 'n' a few beautiful places in between, she's never moved out of London, I always thought she would, but ever since she settled into her job she's never mentioned it.
"It's just not good timing, is it, him asking you to marry you, right now when…." She stops, bits her bottom lip and refuses to meet my gaze. I'm trying to reassure myself this is all the emotions of alcohol and she's not really upset about my decision.
"When what?" I probe, gently. "And remember, I ain't gonna' get married for a good few years yet."
"I know, but just when he-"
"Any update on that coffee Molly?"
"Never heard you coming through there Liam, that was almost a bit, well, creepy."
"Bells..." I warn. Putting my wine glass down, busying myself, getting mugs out and trying to shake the word he out of my head.
"Here Bella, can you take this pudding through to my Dad?" Liam hands a bowl of cold custard and spotted dick to Bella, I'm about to suggest reheating it when Bella mocks salutes him, spinning and turning, leaves the kitchen.
"It seems to be goin' alright?" I say, spooning instant coffee into 5 mugs.
"I love you."
I look across at Liam; smile. "I love you too."
It happened slowly. I know it's a bit of a cliche to say 'I wasn't looking for love' but I certainly wasn't. My life was fine, I enjoyed the control of being single, only having myself to worry about. The only reason I'd agreed to go out with Liam, after his rescue from the side of the M4, was the spare time I suddenly had after completing my degree. Nights where I'd spent studying clinic care or patho-psychology were now empty hours, where if I'm honest I felt a bit bored, had too much time to think.
For the first 4 months I'd thought of him more as a friend, then slowly I hadn't flinched just as much at his touch, realised I missed him if I hadn't seen him for a week or so and then one Saturday night when we were sitting on the couch, sharing a few beers, I recognised the contentment as the first feelings of being in love. 2 years later to the date we first met, down on one knee he'd asked me to marry him. After only the slightest of hesitation, I'd said yes. We're maybe not perfect, but then this is real life, and the only perfect relationships I know are in books… or films. I'm sure in real life Frederick Wentworth would have come back with a sexually transmitted disease after working his way through half the ports he visited to get over Ann whatshername, and don't even get me started on Bella and Edward, would you really want to cuddle up to someone who was ice cold, and gave you bruises every time you had sex?
"Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am. Have to pinch myself, that you're settling for someone like me."
Liam interrupts my delusional thoughts of a woman who maybe never actually finished any Jane Austen books, and only really saw the film version of Twilight.
"Come on mate, it ain't exactly a hardship."
"Your sister isn't exactly my greatest fan is she? I'm always worried she'll talk you out of being with me."
"Well, be thankful you're not marrying her. And she does like you, I think she just likes winding you up even more-"
"If we could get married sooner, would you?"
I couldn't. But I lie, with the ease of someone who has avoided the truth for too long. "Yes." Placing my hand on Liam's shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. "But you know it makes sense to wait. We only rent this place." The flat is tiny, a one bedroomed new build. It's cramped with just the two of us, but it's in the centre of Reading, and if I look out the bedroom window I can see the train line, it makes me feel a bit closer to London, I'll always be a cockney at heart but I know, my job as a Staff Nurse, Liam's as a Breakdown Recovery driver, we are never going to afford a house in the City. "I just think it would be best if we saved, got our house sorted first before we even think 'bout paying for a wedding. Marriage is hard enough mate, without us getting stressed about money 'n' I want the security of a house we both paid for, joint, a proper partnership, it means a lot to me, Liam, to have a proper home I can bring our kids up in, 'n' if it means we have to wait for a few years then so what, we're still gonna' be together."
"We'll save hard. I'll start working an extra every weekend"
"That would be good."
''And also if you did another extra shift a month Molly, went on the bank, I'd need you to do that too.'
'Yeah, course.' I reply, screwing up my face. Truthfully, I may have forgotten about my end of the bargain. Personally I feel working full time already, plus an extra 2 overtime shifts is enough. Sometimes I have to remind Liam our jobs are a little bit different. According to him he spends half the time in his van, sleeping and waiting for a call to come in, whereas my 12 hour shift involves being on my feet constantly, and having some really shitty days where people even die. Therefore, after a 192 hour month I prefer to lounge on the couch and catch up on Jeremy Kyle, in my pyjamas and eating my weight in toast. I know, judge me if you want.
Liam comes up behind, rests his chin on my shoulder and pours the boiling water into the mugs. "I'm going to look after you, you know that don't you? Once we've got the next few years out of the way, once there's the pitter patter of little feet we'll be in a position where you won't work, you can be a mum, stay home - bake, make soup, wash my socks, be a housewife -"
I whip round, checking his expression. His blue eyes are clear, no hint of amusement. "You ain't exactly selling it to me mate…"
"Are you two coming back?" Shouts Peggy.
"... If that's the case, you're gonna' come back one day from work and find the little bleeders 'n' I have decided to take apart your Audi whatever it is or….."
"Audi V8 3.6 1990." He says proudly. He loves that car. Sometimes if I'm really unlucky, we'll spend the day at Peggy and Bernards, whilst he works on it. Spending hours, doing …. stuff. Which is a bit ironic seeing as Polly the Peugeot is on her last legs and he refuses to even put oil in her, telling me I should take her to the scrap yard and her life is over, thankfully she seems to still be living for another day. I love Polly, well when she's starting and going and not getting me pulled over by the police because she's so old, and rusty.
"We're arranging your wedding without you, Molly dear."
We both raise our eyes, Liam leans down and places a gentle kiss on my cheek.
Him and I, we're going to be okay.
Mrs H purses her lips when I place the milk carton on the table, I smile at her, maybe she can get me a milk jug as a wedding present.
"So what would be your perfect wedding Molly?" She asks, whilst Bernard pours milk into her mug.
"Can I answer this for her?" Bella offers with her hand in the air like she was back at school, not waiting for anyone to give her the go-ahead. "I'm thinking, now stay with me on this everyone you're gonna' have to use your imagination - you maybe not so much Molls. But, how about an evening wedding, you know the end of a summers day when the lights just beginning to fade 'n' candles, lots of flickering candles, light the way to a large marquee set up in the garden of a grade 1 listed mansion, and inside, each table is draped in white egyptian cotton covers, and instead of flowers on the tables there's branches, all waxed and smooth, lots of shimmering little baubles hanging from them, some pale cream to match the brides dress interspersed with a deep blue to match the Groom's uniform, and bottles of champagne crowd the tables, so all the guests can sit and sip as the-"
"Not in a chapel? I'm not sure-"
"Stay with me Mrs Handcock, I've not got to the best bit yet….the bride and groom walk in, hand in hand, everyone stands, claps, the bride blushes, the groom pulls her closer, kisses her fondly on the top of her head, then he turns winks at the 3 beautiful bridesmaids who have all got to choose their own dresses, none of them looking like fuckin' twats like most bridesmaids do, and you just somehow know he's probably had a few too many champagnes before the service, 'cause he's a cool bloke, fun, he might look a bit uptight…"
"Bells…" I tightly close my eyes to try and shut out the pain of the memories.
"I'm not uptight am I?"
"... and there's a song playing, at first no one can quite make it out, are straining to listen, not realise it's gonna' be an ear worm for the next 100 days, 'n' then one by one they all get it, it couldn't be more perfect… I'm Yours, Jack Savoretti, 'n' the bleedin' groom chose it himself. The bride wipes a tear from her eye, 'you soft fool' she says romantically 'you're gonna' make my bleedin' mascara run', everyone laughs… "
"Please Bella."
"Was this in a film?"
"...And then they get to the registrar, every single guest 'oohhs' when they see the train of the bride's dress, every single little swarovski crystal hand stitched on the antique lace, but then the vows start, and they are just perfect because all they say is 'forever', 'n' every single guest loses it, cause what can be better than two people who love each other so completely, they actually make puke appear in people's mouths when they're together, promising so much to each other.."
"Enough Bella." I snap.
"Was it a film?"
"But I've not got to the first dance yet Molls, or the honeymoon, or the…."
Abruptly I stand, letting my chair noisily scrape against the laminate flooring. "Can I get anyone more coffee, or tea?" I'm gonna' kill my sister, there's real tears prickling at the back of my eyelids.
"Peggy, was it a film? Maybe Kirk Douglas and that-"
"No, Mr and Mrs H, it wasn't a film." I say with a bright artificial smile on my face. "It was a sister with an overactive imagination, an innocent, naive stupid sister at that." Glaring at Bella, I dare her to comment any further.
"Is that what you wanted Molly, because I'm not sure…."
"No, Mrs H, what I want is a husband who is going to love me forever, that's all I want."
Bella looks suitably contrite. Peggy finally stops playing with her pearls and Bernard exhales a loud breath.
"So, you don't actually want me to get married in my AA uniform?"
Oh for fucks sake. "No Liam. I don't."
His mouth forms a relived O.
"I'm so glad, you see your Father and I, Liam, we have a little something for Molly and you... give it to them Bernard... it's some of our savings, we always wanted the best for you and well we're delighted Molly is joining our family… come on Bernard get it out of your pocket….. and it'll set you off right. You won't have to wait to save, it should be enough…."
There's the sound of rushing in my ears, I sit back down again, grip the end of the table, unsure how there's still a smile on my face.
"...for you to pay a deposit on a house, and, well as long as you're not looking for a bespoke wedding, get married…"
I could say I want the biggest wedding ever, that's a way out of this, that's what I'll do, we'd have to save for years for that, even if we did have a house. There's a sheen of sweat forming on my top lip, I watch Bernard pass an envelope over to Liam, and still, somehow, I have a smile on my face.
".. on the 23rd December like Bernard and I did, in the Chapel. We'd love nothing more than for our son to be married on our wedding anniversary, in the Chapel, we never had a daughter you see….. "
"Mum, Dad, you can't….. It's 50 grand…. Molly, we could have a house and be married by Christmas…"
"That's…." I can't bring myself to look at my sister. "...that's…." If I did the smile on my face might falter, instead without moving any facial muscles, through teeth that are clenched tight, I manage to say. "...great…"
Oh Fuck.
Maybe at some point in the last 2 years I should have maybe mentioned I might already be married.