Harry peers at herself in the mirror. She doesn't often indulge in frivolous adventures but her friend, Angela's long-awaited visit and engagement party is worth it a few hours at a salon. She actually likes what she sees, her hair curled and pinned up. Robert liked it short, so the longer length is a visual reminder she's moved on.
It's a welcome break. Yesterday she braved her first visit back to the place where she once lived. Dempsey helped her to sort through her small collection of belongings and they watched a burly firm of house clearance men load furniture onto lorries. Harry felt another lock release at the sight of the empty house. At the front of the property is a for sale sign and she can't wait for it to be sold. In the fading evening light, Dempsey drove them away. She wept at the sight of him and the safety of their home. He held onto her, brushed away her apologies and remained steadfast.
Harry curses her shaking hand when she applies her make-up and takes a moment to breathe, and begins again. She looks critically at her red lipstick as Dempsey wanders in, looking free of worry and laid back in his suit.
"Beautiful." For a moment his hands linger on her shoulders, gently massaging away her doubts. "Better?"
"Mmmm much, thank you." He stands obediently as she checks his tie. Harry sweeps an imaginary hair from his shoulders just so she can touch him again. "Perfect."
"Thank you. You wanna go out on a date with me sometime?" He smiles and tenderly runs the back of his hand down her face, "Angela is gonna be so pleased to see you and I'm looking forward to meeting your friends."
"Don't make me cry." She hadn't counted on how keen he was to be part of her life, it's taken a little time to get used to it. They've had lunch with Freddy, visited the cinema and walked in the park. Significant but domestic moments that have become their courtship. "I'd better get dressed or we'll be late."
"That statement goes against all my instincts right now." Dempsey grumbles as he saunters downstairs, "I'll look out for the taxi."
In the wardrobe, there's a drawer of pretty, but practical underwear sets that she's bought to replace the clothes she left behind. Beside them are some wildly fantastic affairs that Dempsey has gifted to her. Almost all far too impractical to wear outside the bedroom. She's getting used to the excitement and confidence he's ignited in her. As she finds what she needs for this evening, there's a quick glance at his shirts, hung up next to her clothes and a moment of warmth tickles her. He's slowly moving his life into hers as his time at his vast, expensive flat comes to a close.
The red dress she will wear tonight was the one item she salvaged from her life before she was married. She had spied it in a boutique when she was out with Angela during a weekend away not long after her mother's funeral when her friend saw that she needed enticing from her shell. At the time she thought it a foolhardy purchase, the back low cut and the neck high, showing enticement and another side of herself.
Robert had looked at it in disgust and forbade her from ever wearing it. She had boxed it up, and stored it away from his sight. She tried to forget whom she might have been, had her decisions been wiser.
"What you got there?" Dempsey had asked as she pulled it from the box where it was hidden as they cleared the house.
"A little bit of me that I want to claim back." Harry had said, "I'll show you when I'm ready."
He'd nodded and hadn't enquired any further though she could see his interested glance when he saw the fabric. She realised, as she left the house she had once haunted, that she'd bought the dress for herself, and probably for Dempsey. She's a little fearful he might fail this test she hasn't told him about.
As it pours over her figure she's taken back to messy blonde bobs, warm wine and one rainy Saturday afternoon, as she watched Angela wriggle into a purple miniskirt and fall over. A memory of promises of an occasion so good she could wear this dress.
It fits her as well as it did then. The colour matches the red pocket square in Dempsey's suit and swishes low around her ankles, the fabric illuminating under the bedroom light. She slips her feet into a pair of heels to match. Dempsey bought them for her a few weeks ago and unlike Robert, he has no qualms about her wearing them when she hesitated. Typically he had found advantages and said it made it easier to kiss when she was a few inches taller after admitting the flat shoes had come to mind when he had seen Robert's short stature. She fell in love with him a little more for noticing.
"Wow!" Dempsey exclaims as she makes her way down the stairs. He holds out an arm and turns her gently around. When he sees the back of her dress, she delights in the quick darkening of his eyes.
"Do you like it?" She asks, blushing at his blatant admiration. He nods and fingers the fabric and she meets his unanswered question, "I bought it with Angela but I never got to wear it."
"I like it a lot. Anyone who disagrees hasn't any got any taste." He says gruffly. She's thrilled to feel his lips on the small of her back. "Because I can."
"Only you." Harry says with meaning. If she has her way, he'll be the only man to dance with her this evening too.
"Are you wearing anything under it?" He grins. She raises an eyebrow and knows she's foiled by the smile that threatens. His reactions are everything that Robert wasn't. "I have to investigate. Did I tell you I'm a detective?"
"You can find out later." And she laughs as he growls in her ear and wraps her up in a coat. Tears threaten to ruin her make-up and they're not even at the party yet. Dempsey watches as she composes herself, seeing nothing but pride and love on his face. It's going to be fine.
Outside the taxi beeps and he hands over her clutch bag. "Together?"
She nods."Together."
OOOOO
Harry trips from the taxi. Dempsey swiftly catches her with his free arm, as he pays the driver. He gives the guy a generous tip for ignoring his girlfriend's unsubtle moves on the back seat.
They've enjoyed the food and he's not sure he remembers all of her friend's names. Once they got over their curiosity, he was moved by their warmth and discretion. Dempsey is sure he's not what they expected, much like Freddy, but he's learning to hold his own in this circle. More than once, however, Dempsey was told that he and Harry had chemistry and he'd been unexpectedly thrilled.
Harry spent most of the evening beside him, chatting over the music at her friends, looking animated and comfortable. He stole her for the odd slow dance and she snogged him in a dark corner to a song about knowing what love was. He's vaguely heard on the radio, and the words appropriately reminded him of her. She tasted of champagne. He probably shouldn't have slipped his hand under the back of the dress but he can't feel apologetic, and he's definitely had a little bit too much whiskey to make good on the desires that occupy his mind now they're home. Either way, they are undoubtedly a couple and he's enjoyed the company of people whom he'd never had thought he'd have anything in common. London is feeling like his home.
"Thought you'd be bored…" Harry wobbles beside him as he finds his key to the front door. He keeps a tight grip on her, worried she'll fall back down the steps.
"Nope. Great band, your friends and amazing food. I had a good time." Dempsey unlocks the door. "C'mon tiger, let's get you inside."
Harry wobbles her way to the drinks cabinet ahead of him and he does his best to tear his eyes away from the cut of her dress. She jostles the bottles around and extracts a bottle of tequila. "I always get my sunsets and sunrises muddled."
"Princess, I'm gonna make us a coffee." He's certainly had enough drinks and the thought of a tequila isn't at all appealing. Harry wanders into the kitchen wrapping her arms around his back as the kettle boils, the cocktail forgotten. She's singing something mindlessly into his back as they wind down from the night, swaying from side to side. He's never seen Harry drunk and concludes she'll be the death of him and it'll be a good way to go.
When he turns around to hand her a glass of water and painkillers, with a 'trust me' look, she takes them and then slides into his space. "Dempsey?"
"Yes, babe?" He pushes a lock of hair from her eyes. His surname appears to be her tipsy nickname for him and she's often shouted it when they've made love. It brings all sorts of unsafe thoughts to his working day.
"You're under arrest." She giggles.
OOOOO
Harry looks at him with tired eyes as she shuffles into the kitchen, wrapped in her dressing gown and her hair askew. He bites hard on the inside of his cheek in an effort not to laugh and offers her a bite of his toast. She eyes it cautiously, tentatively nibbling the edges.
"Thanks" She says in a gravelly voice, "Oh god! I sound like you."
"You did a lot of talking last night." He explains, handing her a mug of tea and putting more bread in the toaster. "Everyone loved seeing you."
"And you - you had a bit of a fan club." Harry murmurs, drinking tea. She puts down the mug and he opens up his arms to her. She smells of toothpaste and soap.
"You're not jealous are you?" Dempsey tips up her chin and looks at her carefully. He did notice that there were some attractive women around, but there's no desire when he has the most beautiful and brave one on his arm. He hopes she knows by now. "I should be jealous 'cos you were the most gorgeous woman there and you got a lotta interest."
"Didn't notice, I only wanted to go home with you." She murmurs into his chest. He feels his heart lighten.
"There you go, princess! We can read each other's minds 'cos that's what I was thinking." Dempsey grins cheerfully and then pretends to look deep in thought. "What am I thinking now?"
"Food or sex." Harry considers him with the look of a woman who knows she's right. "And how bad is Harry's hangover and what can I do to make her better?"
"The cure to your hangover could be all of those things." His fingers stray to the knot of the robe and it unravels easily for him. He runs his hands over her waist and hips with a longing look that has her laughing.
"Great minds do think alike." Her warm hands dance on his bared back.
"You know you've got nothing to worry about. People like the accent, think I'm different 'till they realise I'm not." Dempsey looks carefully at her, he wants to slay the elephant that keeps dancing around the room. "I don't cheat on anyone and I'm not interested in them."
"It's how he made me feel, not you, but you are a bit of a charmer." Harry says and he notices a cool edge to her voice that reminds him to go easy.
He holds her gaze. "Harry, this is where I want to be. I'll spend the rest of my life telling you that I love you."
Harry nods as their lips graze.
Dempsey is as sincere as he's ever been, realising that she's utterly unused to being loved in this way. "You got so much more living to do and I want to be there with you."
"Thank you, for loving me." Harry says quietly. "I was so proud to be there with you, show you off."
"Feeling was mutual, trust me." Her lips part under his and he pours all he feels into the gesture.
"Goodness! You do mean it!" Harry gasps and there's the smile he loves on her face and he nods. "Did I do anything unforgivable? Anyone I need to apologise to?"
"We did a lot of kissing of each other, but I think that's the rules. They're our rules anyway." Dempsey murmurs, feeling her fingers move adventurously over his body. "There's only one apology you need to make."
She stiffens in his arms and looks cautiously at him."Oh no! Who too?"
"You call me your private dick and I think I'm gonna need bit of educating about that 'cos I wasn't sure about the job description." He watches as she sits on the kitchen table and pulls him close. He's easily swayed by her arresting ideas.