Hello strangers! Goodness! it seems like an age since I last updated- Sorry! So, if anyone is still reading this I apologise if it seems like a filler chapter, I was trying to get a whole eight weeks of relationship building without loosing the plot line, and if my narrative seems lacking then I am also very sorry. Now enough with the dreariness, on with the story- happy reading! xxxxx
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since she'd let him back into her life; and he'd been trying, he didn't think he'd ever tried so hard at one thing in his life before. Hell, he'd even cooked for her once, proper cooking with flour and sausages and mashed potato, not just heated up some rubbish from downstairs like he usually did. He'd made a right mess of the kitchen but he was proud of himself, and so was she….
"Gene! Gene? I'm home from the hairdressers…Gene? Gene-"
"Oh hello Bolly, yer look lovely."
"Thanks; errr…what are you doing? And why is my kitchen a bombsite?"
"I've been cooking Bolls…Bangers and mash with proper gravy, right little masterchef me"
"Hmmm yes very good Delia, you've managed to make it snow in here too"
"Alright alright I'll clean it up, I just..wanted..ter surprise yer Bolly"
"Well it smells lovely Gene, proud of you."
"Cheers love."
He enjoyed being more domesticated now, keeping the flat nice, making tea and looking after her, she'd finally put her feet up and taken out her maternity leave, thank goodness. Her cravings for biscuits only added to his delight and they could while away the hours sharing a plate of bourbons on the sofa and watching some old film on the telly.
Not long after their talk, he'd invited Alex to move in with him, she'd been a little sceptical at first, having only just allowed him the comfort of her sofa. She'd insisted he go away to a conference at Leeds, he was a Superintendent after all, and it would give her time to mull it over. Too much time it seemed, as a late night phone call woke him from his slumber…
"'lo?"
"Gene?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll move in."
"Wha?"
"I'll move in, yer daft bugger"
"Oi! Is that you mocking my accent?"
"Hmm…maybe? Miss you…."
"Miss you too love, what changed yer mind?"
"Just realised how much I needed you, and…and I don't… want to be on my own anymore.."
"Yer don't 'ave to Bolls… not anymore, I'm here."
"I know, I know…I'll see you soon."
"Yeah, night Bolls."
"Night."
"Oh and Bolls."
"Yeah."
"Love you."
"What?"
"I Love you, yer dozy mare."
"I…I love you to Gene."
"Yeah, I know, night love"
"Yeah, night."
That was the first time he'd said it, he'd tried on multiple occasions, to say it to her face but it just hadn't come out right. Always changing to 'I..'m just going outside for a fag' or 'I..just need to pop downstairs for something', on the phone he didn't have to look at her reaction.
But he'd said it now, and she'd said it back- and Alex Drake was no liar; that much he knew, and he was happier than he ever thought possible.
To Alex's delight, Gene didn't live in the stereotyped unkempt copper's flat she was expecting, but a simple, reasonably sized detached house on the outskirts of the city. It had a decently sized, if slightly overgrown, garden and Gene could practically hear the cogs whizzing round her head as she muttered nonsense about poppies and daffodils under her breath.
"We can sort that out later Mrs Fruitcake, c'mon- you need the guided tour."
The house itself was pretty plain on the inside; rooms were sparsely decorated, with only the odd photograph in a battered album on the bookshelf. She still thought of the day her told her about each one individually, another layer of him slowly revealed to her…
"That's Annie, at Her and Sam's anniversary do- they never could afford a wedding, not the one that Annie wanted anyway, so they always celebrated the day they got together down The Railway Arms every year."
"That's nice, do you ever miss it? Manchester I mean?"
"Sometimes I suppose; most of the time I try and forget about it- t'were a different time then, I were a different man…are you wearing new perfume? Smells nice."
"Mmm…yeah, bought it ages ago, found it when I was unpacking the other night…where's this one from?"
"That there is me, first day on the beat. I wasn't half skinny, couple of night shifts with only a kebab shop for company soon fixed that up."
"Aww! I think you look cute!"
"Pfft. The Gene Genie is not cute."
"Okay okay you're not cute, you're very manly, and strong and you're the best at- ahh! Gene! That tickles! Stop it I can't breathe I ca-"
"Ooh look, we missed one, May 1945, who are they?"
"That's me Mam, there's me, and that tiny baby is my brother Stu."
"How old are you here?"
"4, nearly 5, just after the war ended; don't really remember much of it like but I were happy that day, waving me flag and getting free cake of the Vicar's wife, right little spoilt brat that day."
She studied the photo intently, smiling and how his hair flopped adorably over his forehead, the way it did to this very day.
"I bet you were a little heartbreaker."
He went quiet all of a sudden, and sat down heavily on the sofa. Silence. She went to sit next to him. He took her hand and cradled it in his, pulling her down gently to sit beside him concentrating on the small circles he traced on her hand.
"No Bolls, it wasn't like that…we were a 'problem family', a 'bad influence'...kids in the playground were told 'stay away from those Hunt boys, they're nothing but trouble'…But we weren't Bolls, we weren't"
"I believe you" she said, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
"It were all me dad's fault. He changed after he came back from the war…more distant, more serious like. Then came the drinking; at first he'd just come home a bit merry like, the odd broken nose after he'd fallen over, then Christmas eve came…the shouting, the stamping, Stu thought it was Santa for goodness sake. The thrashings became more regular after that, Mam, me, Stu- whoever happened to be in his way. I could handle him after I turned twelve and he lay off a bit before he buggered off a few years later. Stu couldn't cope though, dunno what it was, guilt maybe…he turned to drugs and died of an overdose just after I joined the force. Mam followed shortly after; died of a broken heart they said."
Slowly and cautiously, she wrapped her arms around his defeated form, neither of them spoke for a long while, the picture hanging loosely between his war-torn hands.
"Stuart's a nice name."
"No Bolls, not again. I couldn't do that ter me own flesh and blood"
"Okay"
"Right, sick of moping, c'mon, arse into gear, you need to choose a colour for the bookshelves in his room, don't know why you've got all them bloody pallets, they all look the same to me."
And then he was back.
They never spoke of the incident again. They didn't need to really, like Alex's tearful rendition of Molly, it stayed in the corner like a delicate vase; to be looked on fondly when it catches your eye, but never touched or explored fully, for fear that it would break.
It had taken surprisingly little time to get the baby's room fully decorated, Gene proved himself quite the handyman fully assembling every cot wardrobe and bookcase Alex had chosen. Dozens of blue hats babygrows and booties scattered the carpet, being folded and packed carefully and neatly by a heavily pregnant Alex. She was almost ready to pop now, just over a week and their son would be here. Their baby Joseph. It was the only name they could agree on after endless arguments over naming them after famous painters or Manchester city players. They argued much less now, and the spark of romance had been rekindled, confirmed to them both one Saturday afternoon….
"Get out 'Lex, M'not finished, bloody fumes'll kill yer!"
"Calm down Gene it's fine! Just open another window I want to see!"
"Oh bloody hell, fine, get yer arse in here then and sit on that beanbag and don't move. Kay."
"Yes yes your highness whatever, I'm pregnant not disabled I'm perfectly capable of- Oh Gene, Gene, this is amazing I-I can't believe- all this on your own."
"Course, there were this charity that used to come to my school and teach us all about this stuff an' I really liked it, used to beg people for their old furniture and stuff when I were a lad, batter me eyelids a bit and all the posh women'd swoon at me feet"
"SO this is what you've been up to all week then? When I've been beached on the sofa with that bloody patchwork quilt I've just finished."
"Yeah, figured if you could do all the sewing and knitting I could make meself useful."
"I don't know what to say, you wonderful, wonderful man."
In one corner of the baby blue decorated room was a rocking horse in the shape of a lion, polished an pained to perfection, 'Joseph' etched neatly on its frame, the colours bright and warm. Carved with the precision and expertise of any professional standing tall and prod as the man who crafted it.
"Thanks Bolls, I know he can't use it till he's a bit older but I wanted him to have it as soon as he could, I want him to have better than I did Bolls, I know you still have your doubts and you've every right to but I promise yer, I'll be the best dad I can to 'im, I'm not gonna be perfect, and I won't pretend to be, but I'm gonna do all I can to make him happy, and you too. Unbreakable, yeah?"
She gave him a watery nod. "I think he agrees with you Gene. Here, feel."
She placed his hand under hers and her felt the defined outline of a foot hit his hand. He'd never felt it that strong before.
"Bolls it's amazing."
"isn't it just, so close to meeting him, I can't wait."
"Me too," He replied, kissing her hand. "Not long now eh?"
"No."
Not long until they were a family, properly, he hoped. She was scared and she knew he was too, even if he thought she didn't know it. But they'd be fine. Call it instinct, call it nouse, she felt safer and more cared by him than Pete or any of her other serious partners.
"Take me to bed Gene."
"Eyy?"
"Take me to bed."
"Can you do that, I mean, it won't hurt-"
"Yes it's fine Gene, trust me, widely encouraged in fact."
"And you're sure you want to?"
"Yes."
"Give us a kiss then."
"Hmmm…Kay"
There was to be no more sofas or spare rooms from now on. Whispered promises of love and care showered them both as they gently made love into the dead of the night. Afterwards, there was no more bitterness, no more doubts, just comfort, trust, and love.
"Gene?"
"Yes?"
"What would you have done, if I'd said no to taking you back?"
"I dunno Bolls, I dunno."
"We'll be alright, won't we Gene?"
"Yes Love, we're gonna be fine. Unbreakable, remember?"
"Hmmm…Yeah…"