Oh sympathy where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. So tell me when you're gonna let me in, I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin.

And if you have a minute why don't we go, talk about it somewhere only we know. This can't be the end of everything. So why don't we go, somewhere only we know.

Part 10

Clarisse woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes blinking in the dim light and attempting to take in, and make sense of, her surroundings. It was raining, heavily from the sound of it. Battering down on the roof, beating the windows. She shivered in the cold, damp air, her body was used to a well-heated and ventilated room, to a lavish bed and silk sheets. Not a small room at the top of a house barely protected from the elements.

Joseph murmured in his sleep and she remembered her reasons for being there. She lay back down and his arm slid around her body pulling her close against him. He was warm, the feel of his breath on her neck was comforting and gradually it lulled her back to sleep.

When she woke again Joseph was staring down at her, his head propped up on one hand, a smile on his face.

"Good morning." He whispered. "Sleep well?"

"Hmm." She mumbled closing her eyes again.

He laughed. "Takes some getting used to."

"Let's hope I don't have to." She said throatily.

"Can I confess something?"

"Yes." She mouthed.

"I've had many, many fantasies about you over the years – funnily enough not of them involved this room and this bed."

She giggled. "Oh I'm so glad to hear that."

She opened her eyes fully, taking in his expression – joy, was that it? Relief, pleasure, expectation, want, need – or were they her own feelings being transferred to him.

"I'm so glad you're here." He said taking her hand. "I never realised three weeks could be such a long time."

"For me too."

His fingers circled her wrist. "I thought maybe you'd come to your senses and realise you'd made a mistake marrying me." Hs voice was thick.

"Oh never..." She placed her free hand on his face. "I was afraid you'd be thinking a similar thing. That being my husband wasn't all that wonderful."

"You're right, it's completely different to anything I imagined."

Her face dropped.

"But I wouldn't change it for anything."

She smiled and turned onto her side to face him, he let go of her wrist and dropped back down to lay next to her.

"So tell me... about these fantasies." She raised an eyebrow at him. "When exactly?"

"Oh for a long time now."

"Alright," she adopted a serious tone. "And do you really think it's appropriate to have such thoughts about your Queen."

"At the time – no. But now, yes, perfectly."

She couldn't help but smile and the sight made his heart jump and he instinctively leant forward and kissed her. Tentatively, shaking as he did it, unsure as to her response.

His lips just grazed hers, lightly, questioning. She answered by pressing her mouth against his, drawing her arm over his shoulder, her fingers tracing along his neck.

He groaned when her hips pressed against him and pulled back breathless. "Not here." He managed to whisper.

He was right, it wasn't the place to make love, the way he wanted to make love to her after all the heartache. For him it had to be perfect.

She kissed him once more gently nodding her head in agreement.

"What time is it?" She asked allowing him to reposition so she was rested against his chest.

"Still early I think."

"You think?"

"I can't hear the boys yet, so it must still be early."

"Oh I'd forgotten there are children here." She said brightly. "How wonderful."

"For the most part yes, but I'm getting old and I like my quiet now."

She laughed. "And I like my creature comforts, so, if you're in agreement I'd like to arrange for a hotel." She lifted her head to look at him.

"Of course, we need space too I think . To talk."

"Where to begin..." She whispered resting her head back down and closing her eyes listening to the persistent rainfall.

Nervously Clarisse took the steps one at a time, stopping on each one and taking a deep, calming breath. This was far worse than entering a crowded ballroom as the guest of honour, she could handle that, hell she wished she were doing that right now. Or even arguing some point with parliament, or dealing with difficult questions from the press, fending off a persistent reporter.

But no this was far worse, meeting the in-laws face to face. Face to face with a man she knew disliked her very, very much. She refused to use the word hate, he couldn't possibly hate her... yet!

With one last moment behind the door, a straighten of her shoulders, a shake of her head and a lick of her lips. She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open walking in. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry and she was struggling to put together a coherent sentence.

She glanced around the room and suddenly Joseph was there by her side, an arm around her, his palm against the small of her back guiding her forward.

"Morning." Elisa said. "Coffee?"

Clarisse would be ever grateful for the olive branch. "Good morning. Yes, thank you." Was that her voice? It sounded so small.

"I'll make you some Tea." Joseph said, and then glanced at Elisa. "Coffee disagrees with her."

He kissed the top of her head and let go of her arm as he moved into the kitchen. She longed to follow him, to stand by his side and draw from his strength. But there she stood, rooted to the spot.

With some effort she moved to the table and sat down across from Rico. He didn't look up, stared down at his paper apparently oblivious to her presence. She wondered what was worse, sitting there in silence or the alternative – arguing with him.

She folded her hands, twisted her wedding ring round on her finger and licked her lips again.

"No engagement ring?" Elisa said, moving across the room to the table.

Startled, yet relived by the break in silence Clarisse smiled. "No, not yet. We were going to choose one together but..." She thought of the ring she'd found hidden away. "I sense Joseph had other ideas."

"He usually does."

"I usually what?" Joe asked as he entered the room and put a tray on the table.

"Have your own ideas." Elisa said. "Fresh croissants?"

"I went to the Bakery." He answered placing a pot of tea in front of Clarisse.

"Must be a special occasion." Rico said folding his paper.

"I thought so." Joe's voice was even, calm, inviting his brother to end this stubbornness. Inwardly he was in fact desperate to have his wife accepted, if only he'd speak to her, get to know the real woman not the glorified emotionless person presented to the world so incorrectly.

Clarisse took the plates from the tray and placed them around the table.

"Not for me," Rico said, addressing her personally for the first time.

He breath caught in her throat. How would she respond to this?

"Late night for me, little bit of a hangover."

"Oh." She smiled. "Well, maybe later."

Her voice sounded so polite, so well educated and she cursed herself for it. For the first time in her life she had a shattering feeling inside that she wasn't in control, that she couldn't make this all right with a click of her fingers.

To her surprise Rico didn't stare her down or belittle her.

"Believe me, there won't be any left. The boys will make short work of those." He lifted his coffee cup and emptied it.

"Are they still here?" Clarisse asked looking toward Joseph for reassurance. He sat down next to her, pressing his hand against hers beneath the table.

"School." Elisa offered taking a croissant from the plate.

"Oh I forgot."

"You'll see them later." Joe said quietly. "Chocolate I'm guessing." He placed a sticky croissant onto the plate in front of her.

She turned her face to him, still so jubilant to be next to him again. "Thank you dear." She smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling.

The moment was broken when there was a smash behind them and a scream from Elisa. "Oh damn it, sorry. Sorry... oh look at this." She fussed trying to wipe the coffee from her skirt.

"Don't worry, I got it, come on." Joe took control and led her into the kitchen. "We'll get you a towel."

Clarisse followed them with her eyes, then turned back at the sound of Rico coughing.

"That must be the fourth mug she's broken this month."

"I do hope she didn't burn herself."

"She'll be fine. Now..." He leant across the table to her. "I don't want to argue with you, I don't want us to hate each other, for Joe's sake."

Her throat tightened. "You don't like me being here do you?"

"That's hardly an option anymore, if I had a choice then no you wouldn't have come here. But now you are, and I've seen the look on Joe's face and hell let's face it you're a beautiful woman with a lot of money and some status that's hard to beat."

"Oh please I'm not here to lord over you."

Rico held up a hand. "I hadn't finished. The bottom line is Cla... what the hell do I call you anyway?"

"Clarisse is perfectly fine."

"Well then Clarisse, you're not one of us, we're not from your world, we're poles apart."

"Does that mean we can't meet somewhere in the middle?"

"I suppose, but it's not going to happen over night. It's gonna take me some time to get used to being around you. You may think it's stupid but I feel kinda dumb in your presence."

"I certainly don't think you are, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. But I can understand why you might feel that way... the way I speak, dress, the way I might act sometimes. I don't do it purposefully, it's just the way I am."

"Is everything okay?" Joe sounded fairly stern as he strode into the room.

Clarisse turned and placed a hand on his arm. "Perfectly, yes. Is Elisa alright, not scolded?"

"She's fine."

Rico stood up. "Better check on her, probably feels a right idiot."

"You're sure everything's alright, if he said anything to you I'll..."

"Joseph please, he didn't, it's fine – I'm fine. We need to start somewhere."

He gripped her hand. "Building bridges."

She nodded. "Now, let me try this pastry and if it's as good as you all say I'll employ the baker."

Joseph shook his head as he sat down next to her, only she could get away with saying something like that and making it sound sweet.

The rain came down for the majority of the morning, Rico went out directly after breakfast, Elisa went about her usual jobs and Joe took Clarisse into the cellar. He'd been working down there, well painting to be perfectly honest. To his relief she didn't laugh at the six or so pictures he'd completed.

"I'm no Picasso." He said, feeling fairly nervous as he showed her the canvas. "But it's calming, and it kills time."

"You're getting rather good." She said noting the dates at the bottom.

"It's easy to improve when you've nothing else to do."

"Concentration..." She stopped realising what each picture was, then smiled reflecting on it. "The lake." She said. "That's where they all are."

"Yes." He moved up close behind her.

"Is that me?"

"They all are."

On one the woman was standing in the lake, submerged to her waist. In another she was bent picking something out of the sand.

"How about you, you were there too."

"Didn't seem important."

She turned to face him. "It was very important. How about a painting of you throwing me into the lake."

He laughed recalling the moment. "It was hardly throwing, merely a drop."

She replaced the canvas. "We should take these home with us."

He shrugged. "I suppose. Not going up in the gallery though."

"In my office." She said proudly indicating the one she liked the best. "This one."

"Flatterer."

She giggled. "I can be." She shivered. "It's awfully damp down here, how have you not died from the cold?"

"Plenty of whisky and insulation."

"Hmm. Let's go for a walk, show me where you grew up."

"It's still raining."

"I won't melt."

They sheltered beneath a large umbrella, Clarisse's hand tucked inside Joseph's pocket, snuggled close together as he pointed places of significance out to her. And she listened silently, taking it all in, imagining the little boy playing in the open fields. Or the young man starting to grow and dream of seeing other places. Experiencing other worlds.

"I wish I'd been here before. Shared it with you years ago."

"We were still bargaining in our relationship back then."

"Bargaining?"

"Yeah, treading carefully, not wanting to push too hard, ask for too much. Isolate you completely – at times I was just glad to be in your presence."

"Joseph..." She said tenderly.

"I know you now, really know you."

"And I you. It's comforting... to have you in my life, to have somebody who really knows me, the me I thought I'd lost."

"And in being with you I finally found the real me, a centre. Something I'd been looking for, for so many years."

"I don't intend to let it slip away." She said firmly.

"Not anymore." He stopped as they reached the end of the old cobbled streets. "Ready to go back?"

"I need some clothes Joseph, I've never worn anything for two days in a row in my life."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Oh how undignified."

"It isn't funny."

"We'll go back to the house, I'm assuming you have a car." She nodded. "Well then we'll call, go to the hotel, book a room and raid the shops for new clothes for her majesty." He circled her waist with his free arm.

"And I must get gifts for the children... my nephews?" She questioned.

"Indeed. And I'm taking you out for dinner tonight."

"You are?"

"Yes, a place I love to go to when I'm here."

"Then you have yourself a date."