Anna had surfaced just as Johnny was beginning to make his demands heard as to his next feed. Charles had not seemed in the least perturbed by the whimper of the child he held tightly against his chest, a cry that promised to build into a crescendo before too long, but nor had Elsie missed the slightest look of relief as Anna took him expertly into her arms. It provided the perfect moment to slip away, wrapped up once more against the bitterness outside.
There wasn't much on which to speak as they picked their way down the lane. It was slow work in the black of the night, just brief glimpses of the moon above guiding their path. But within half an hour they were home and safe from the worst of the elements once more. Elsie couldn't help but yawn loudly as she stood in front of the hall mirror and pulled the pin from her hat before burying her fingertips into her hair to massage her scalp. She caught his reflection eying her, the slightest tell of a smile on his lips.
"Would you think me wanton if I let my hair down now?" she asked, half in jest, "Before bed. Before supper even."
His eyes bulged a little at the notion but he shook his head, and she saw as his smile grew, just a little.
"In which case I think I shall," she resolved, moving towards the stairs. "Will you put the water on? I think there is still some of the casserole left, and it should do us fine with a few potatoes."
He nodded his consent, noting with surprise at his ready acceptance of the instruction. It was another marker, he supposed as he watched her go, at how two people must adjust to a life together, the give and take between the otherwise defined roles of man and wife. At his age he thought it was a hard lesson to learn but one he was coming around to.
"You know," he started as she reached the fourth step, her stopping to listen, "I don't mind you little wanton. At least," he hesitated as his cheeks flushed, "Not when it's just us and it's been a while."
Elsie felt her own cheeks flame in reply and it was all she could do to resist the sudden urge to scurry away, to hide from the intense look he was directing at her. It was as bold a proposition as perhaps she'd ever heard and her breath seemed to leave her for a moment before she was able to respond.
"Is that so, Mr Carson?" she managed, "I shall remember that."
Neither moved, the cold air of their hallway suddenly thick with an unanticipated tension. They'd felt it before, the tantalising mix of mutual desire rarely voiced and knowledge it could now be acted upon. It captivated them both, but at last Elsie broke the spell, smiling through pursed lips before continuing her journey upstairs, leaving Charles to speculate as to whether it was another opportunity missed or just the beginning of their evening together. After some minutes he decided it was best not to dwell too heavily on it and proceeded to potter about as he waited for her inevitable return.
By the time he heard her footsteps on the creaky floorboard of the landing, he had the stove lit and the water near to boiling. The heavy earthenware dish of beef chunks with its rich gravy stock was already beginning to warm through in the oven and the vegetables were halfway to being peeled and sliced. She entered the kitchen quietly and came up alongside to inspect his work, her hair freed but restrained in a long braid. Her assessment of his efforts remained unspoken as she disappeared again, reappearing with a bottle of red wine. She showed Charles the label and he nodded his approval.
"1921. Not a bad drop," he remarked, before frowning, "But I don't recognise as one from the Abbey"
Elsie chuckled, "I should think not. I brought it back with me from Lytham St Annes. A present from Becky."
"That's rather unusual, isn't it?" he questioned with brow raised, "I wouldn't have thought it was the usual thing to give a sister."
"Perhaps not," Elsie agreed as she fetched two glasses from the dresser, "But it's for the both of us, a belated wedding present. She said she remembered me writing about your interest in wine and how we shared a glass now and then. She asked one of male residents to fetch it for her and him being sweet on her, by all accounts, was more than happy to oblige."
"Is that proper?" he asked, as she lined up the bottle opener ready for him to do the honours, "I mean, give their, um, situation?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, leaning over to take over the cooking whilst he took her place in front of the wine, "But I should think that given their place in the world they deserve a bit of fun as much as the rest of us. I suspect it's innocent enough."
They fell into a comfortable silence, moving around one another as the last of the dinner preparations came together and then they could finally eat. Their chatter came easily then, their reflections on the Bates' family and how they were coping, and then Elsie sharing news of a muttered confession by Mrs Patmore that she might be finally ready to admit she liked Mr Mason. Charles reacted instinctively in voicing his disapproval, that a woman her age should be prone to such girlishness and risk making herself ridiculous.
"Like I did over you, you mean?" Elsie chastised.
"No, no..." he spluttered, choking on a piece of carrot, "No one could ever call you ridiculous."
"Well, thank you for that, I suppose," she laughed self-consciously.
"I didn't mean it like that," Charles said, backtracking rapidly, "But it's different for Mrs Patmore."
Elsie stared as her husband, "Different how? Deep down, we all want someone to keep us warm, Charlie."
"Well, yes, but she's...well, I don't know quite how to explain it," he said with a dismissive tone, his knife attacking a particularly tough piece of meat, "But I'd loved you for years and Mr Mason has only known her for five minutes. How do they know they are well suited to one another? You can't rush at things at our time of life."
Elsie let her cutlery clatter on the plate as her hands stilled, her mind left racing. He didn't seem to notice as he continued sawing away, his face set into a grimace as his task continued to thwart him.
"Maybe," he commented gruffly, "She should be focused more on the cuts of meat we're purchasing these days than on affairs of the heart. I mean, honestly, this piece is inedible."
He held up his failed attempt on his fork for her to see and baulked as he caught sight of the frozen expression on her face.
"What is it?" he asked with concern, asking again as his question was met with a shake of her head. He waited and then reached out a hand towards hers as it rested on the table. "Elsie?"
She whispered something but he couldn't make it out, and so asked her to repeat it which she did, in full knowledge that her eyes were threatening to give her away.
"You never said," she said meekly.
"Never said what?" he asked confusedly.
"That you'd loved me for as long as that, for any longer than just recently."
Charles felt his jaw drop but quickly recovered and straightened in response.
"I have said," he said defiantly, "At least..." he paused, "I did, before the wedding."
Elsie shook her head, "You didn't. I think I would have remembered."
Charles frowned, his thoughts turning back over memories of shared moments, silent understandings that existed only between them, no one else.
"But when you said yes, when you accepted me, you said..." he uttered.
"Yes," she said, squeezing his hand, "Because I'd loved you, you silly man."
He looked at her, her face now brighter with lips curled into a shy smile. "But you know I Iove you!" he exclaimed.
"I do," she agreed, "And I had suspected, over the years, but I could not be sure, not truly."
He continued to stare at her, showing his incredulity that on this, the simplest of things, the'd failed. He'd felt that she had known, that it was all rather obvious how he valued her, put her above all others, learnt to see how he could never be happy without her at his side. But more than that - that he trusted her with his heart, his happiness.
Clearing his throat, he withdrew his hand and shifted his knife and fork so that they sat neatly together side by side on the plate. He reached for his wine glass and took a large sip, all the while conscious of her watching him. The napkin taken from his lap and left crumpled on the table, he stood, his chair scraping noisily as it caught the flagstone tile at the end of the rug, and moved to stand above her, hand held out towards her.
Elsie responded in kind and, slipping her hand into his, rose to join him, hips square to one another, her head tilted back a little to let him capture her eyes with his own.
"I have loved you, Elsie," he said, his voice deep and low, "And I missed you these last few days, so very much. I'm only sorry that I don't say it as often as you deserve."
Elsie felt a dampness gathering behind her eyelids, a few blinks and they'd threaten to stream down her cheeks. She sniffed loudly in an attempt to fight them back as, tenderly, his hand moved to the back of her head, fingers splayed as they buried themselves into her silver streaked tressles. She felt herself lean into his touch, to savour his worship of her, her breath mingling with his as she felt his kiss tantalisingly close.
"I don't need to hear it, Charlie," she said with a quiet firmness as she regained control, "To feel it is enough."
She pushed herself up on tiptoes to close the smallest of distances that remained between them and sighed deeply as he captured her mouth with his. But he forced the contact to remain chaste, frustrating her when she wanted more, so much more from. She groaned her annoyance and felt his lips curl against hers in what she knew would be a devilish smile.
"Charlie, she warned, pulling back.
"Elsie," he replied in a tone that belied true intent.
There was a brief standoff, neither certain what the other was thinking, only sure as to their own minds. But as was so often the way he caved first, no longer willing to indulge his own tease, not able to withstand the draw of keeping her close for as long as she might let him.
"Come on," he said, tugging at her hand which he'd not yet relinquished and moving towards the door, "We'll be warmer upstairs."
The End
Who am I kidding? I won't be able to resist a cheeky M chapter as a follow up…if that's your thing then do keep an eye out for it. The working title is 'Getting warmer'.
But regardless, thank you for reading to the end. I know it's taken far longer for me to finish this tale than my previous attempts. I blame normal life getting inconveniently in the way. I also sidestepped into another fanfic community (under another name) which was nerve racking in the extreme as not everyone is always as lovely and as encouraging as you all have been to me here - which has made me appreciate all of your reviews even more! So, a huge heartfelt thank you for always being kind and not pointing out the multiple errors and shoddy paragraphs!