Epilogue
I put a crisp, perfectly ironed white shirt, followed by black suit and a tie with an immaculate knot around my neck. I raked my fingers through my dark curls attempting to make them look orderly and as I met my own gaze in the mirror, could not help smiling big and let out the almost ridiculous happiness I felt inside. Today I was the luckiest man in the world, no need to pretend being something I was not. I wondered to myself what this new life would be like, the one as husband to Molly Dawes. Then again, I already knew the answer - the best life I could possibly imagine.
"Ready?", Elvis asked as he completed the look by pinning a corsage to my lapel.
"As ready as can be."
-OG-
I put my expensive lingerie on, thin nylon stockings to wrap my legs, then it was time for the exquisite white lace dress. Mum helped me with all the tiny buttons in the back and already shed the first tears of the day. A pair of Manolo Blahnik high heels to add four inches to my short frame. I gazed into the mirror and smoothed a strand of hair in place, ensured the seemingly effortless lose curled hair-do was held in place by the white flower tiara, knowing that today everyone's eyes would be on me. I did not mind, after all the bride is always the natural centre of attention of a wedding. No one would want me to fail, everyone would wish me well, wish us happiness. No pretence, no mask was needed, I would be fine just being me. From today and ever after I would be Mrs. James, the luckiest woman in the world. Mum handed me the bouquet and smoothed out an invisible crease on the dress.
"You look just beautiful, and so happy. My little girl." She hugged me.
"Mum, don't make me cry too, not yet."
"Sorry, just had to. Ready?"
"As ready as can be."
-OG-
The first sign that we finally were approaching our destination was the shimmering water surface between the trees.
"Look, now we're there!"
Charles was answering the question Sam had asked about hundred times during the ride, starting already at the outskirts of London and nearly driving his father mad towards the end.
As an ending to our honeymoon, we were to spend a weekend in the cottage that held a very special place in our hearts. It might seem odd that we were bringing Sam, but we had already had plenty of time just the two of us celebrating our marriage and now we were looking forward to some quality time with him.
Nearly a year had passed since we first came here, arriving as the Home Secretary and accompanying bodyguard, leaving as lovers. As we now found they key in the pot where we had left it and entered the cottage, I thought it felt more like a life-time had passed since we left because everything was so different. I had been so filled with uncertainty that day and a sense of loss. I knew already then that I loved him, but I was not sure what the future held and how we would be able to be together. So much had happened, everything for the better.
After my resignation, I took a time-out for a few months, then resumed my career as criminal barrister. Charles continued as PPO for now but considered starting something of his own and I had realised that he actually worked only because he wanted to. His family's wealth was such that he did not really need it except that he would feel restless and useless otherwise. The announcement that I resigned for personal reasons had initially rendered a lot of media attention, but soon subsided when it became apparent that I had no intention to slander the PM or the Party and for real wanted to live the calm life I had claimed I wanted. Initially we kept a low profile but soon came out as an official couple. Very few made the connection that Charles had been my bodyguard or were interested in the love life of the former Home Secretary, only one tabloid wrote a short piece on that I had been seen together with a handsome man, former officer and only child of wealthy parents, seemingly a catch. I could only agree.
The first time I was to meet his parent I was nervous like hell, despite that he had said I had nothing to worry about. When we arrived to the impressive old house, he cheerfully opened the door, announcing;
"Mum, dad, we're here now!"
Here we go I thought, and seconds later his mum appeared. She had a warm smile on her face but when she saw me, her jaw dropped.
"You're really the spitting image of..."
"Mum, this is Molly." He interrupted her with a smile.
"Molly Dawes?"
"That's me."
I smiled too and wondered what was going through her mind, but she quickly found herself.
"Hello Molly, nice to meet you. You can call me Sally and welcome to our home."
Moments later she served tea and coffee in the kitchen and seemed pleased when I preferred tea.
"Never understood Charles and his coffee drinking", she confided in me.
"Me neither, I've always said that a tea bag does me."
"Now, will the two of you tell me how you met? When Charles was here last he said it was complicated and now I can see why."
We told her the story even if we omitted the details how we had ended up in each other's arms. She listened amazed and looked very pleased towards the end of it.
"Didn't I tell you Charles, that all would work out for the best?"
"You did - and I'm so glad you were right."
He took my hand across the table, entwined his fingers with mine and she smiled.
"So am I, my boy, so am I."
I knew then, that she had accepted me without further ado and when Charles' dad, Tom, came home an hour later he turned out to be as easy to get along with as Sally.
I was equally, or even more, nervous the first time I was to meet Sam. I knew he would always be an important part of Charles life and I desperately wanted him to like me, but maybe he would think me the evil stepmother. They picked me up, Sam the cutest mini-version of his dad, and we went to have burgers and milkshakes in a new restaurant Sam had wished to go to, designed like one of those fifties style diners you see in American movies. When Charles left us alone for a while to go to the men's room I thought this was it. Now when we were alone Sam would surely say he hated me without even knowing me. I swallowed and wondered how a small boy could make a grown woman so anxious.
"Don't worry, I like you", he suddenly said slurping his milkshake and fixating his brown eyes on me.
"You do?"
"Dad likes you, and he's the best so that must mean you're nice."
"Thanks. He really is the best, isn't he?"
"Yeah, but don't tell him I said that."
I fought to stay serious.
"I promise."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes."
"I promise I won't tell him that."
I did not tell him that his dad already knew, only said thanks and asked if he wanted another milkshake and just like that we were friends.
I do not think Charles had worried about me meeting his parents or Sam, he was always convinced it would go well, but for me it was a relief when those check boxes were checked successfully, and I took joy in our budding relationship even more than before.
-OG-
There was only ever one thing I was scared to bring up with Charles and I finally summoned the courage one evening after a great afternoon with Sam, which somehow had increased my need to talk about this. We were reading, cuddled up in the sofa. More accurately, Charles was reading, and I pretended to meanwhile I was bracing myself for what I needed to say.
"I've been thinking…"
"Sounds dangerous."
"I need to ask you something."
"Mmmm..."
"I mean something important."
"Okay, I'm listening."
Now I had his attention but kept fidgeting with the pages of my book, nervous to ask, or rather nervous about the response I would get. Too nervous to beat about the bush once the words came out.
"Do you want kids?
"Do I want kids?"
I had barely gotten started but already felt my cheeks burning.
"You have Sam and he's obviously not a baby anymore. I've been wondering if you want more... if you would consider... I don't have any and I'd like that, very much. Do you think you'd ever want a baby with me?"
There I had said it. My heart was beating erratic and the look he gave me seemed amused, which made me terribly frustrated. Did he not understand how important this was to me? I was not sure if it was a deal-breaker, it would not make me walk out the door straight away, but if he said no I would need time to re-evaluate everything. Would have to carefully think through if I was prepared to sacrifice having children of my own to be able to be with him. I did not want to even imagine a life without him, so whatever choice I made would be a very difficult and painful one, if I had to make it.
He put his book aside and held me closer to him before answering. I could hear his heart beating unfairly calm compared to mine..
"I thought for long I was happy with just having Sam, that I'd never wish for more children. It's so convenient now that he is old enough to manage many things on his own. The thought of starting over again with a new baby in my life and all the changes that would bring, is daunting."
My heart sank.
"That said, I've already thought it through and I realised I want that with you anyway, even if it's a big step. I love you and I want a baby which is you and me. Not only because I know you want it, I want it too. Not this instant, but somewhere along the line."
I felt so ridiculously relieved, I would not have to choose between the two things most important to me. I felt tears emerging, my attempts to hold them back futile.
"Are you crying?"
"Only because I'm happy."
"And you're okay waiting out? Not having a baby right now?"
"Yes, I just needed to know if someday..."
"I get it, and I definitely want that but", he kissed me, "how about we start moving in together for real?"
"That's a very good start."
"It is, isn't it? I've been wanting to ask you but then I was nervous it might be too soon. Now you made it very easy for me."
His warm brown eyes sought mine and then he bent down to seal this decision with yet another kiss and I was happier than ever.
-OG-
Neither of us liked our flats much, except for my studio, so we agreed to look for something else together. When we almost immediately stumbled over a lovely little house in Kensington we did not hesitate. 'Why waste any time?', was the question we asked ourselves and unanimously answered 'let's not', it only seemed stupid when we were crazy for each other.
In contrast to our separate flats, this house immediately felt like a home, our home, and I hoped we would live there together forever. It turned out Charles hoped for the same and one morning in early spring he proposed. We were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, both in our morning gowns, when he came over to stand behind me, wrapped his arms around me and said in low voice with his lips close to my ear;
"Will you marry me?"
Surprised I turned around and then he went down in the classical knee pose, holding my one hand, looked me in the eyes and seemed adorably nervous.
"When you were standing there all lovely, I felt I just have to ask. I love you so much. Will you be my wife?"
No grand gestures, no elaborate empty words like Roger once had used when he proposed, just the true words that really mattered. To me it was perfect.
"Will you please come up here again before I answer?"
He quickly got to his feet.
"Of course, I will. I want to be your wife more than anything."
After all, we had already agreed to have children together one day and in comparison, marriage almost felt like a minor undertaking - although one I very much wanted.
We planned a small summer wedding, outdoors with our near and dear ones. Both had done the big church wedding before and felt no need to repeat it. Just like his proposal this was perfect for us, modest but beautiful and true. I thought I would burst with happiness when the priest declared us husband and wife and we for the first time kissed as Mr. and Mrs. James.
The morning after the wedding he told me the dower would be a two-part gift, the first one to come now, the second when we were on our honeymoon trip, and he looked incredibly pleased with himself.
"As my proposal was a bit spur of the moment, I have put some more effort into this to compensate."
"You didn't have to, your proposal was perfect to me."
"I know, and I love you for that, but I wanted to do this for you", he beamed. "The first part has to do with breakfast."
"Breakfast? Aren't we having breakfast here at the hotel."
"Nah, I have a more special breakfast in mind, just wait and see... tell me when you can guess."
He kept smirking as he started presenting various items to me.
"The breakfast itself..."
Two white paper bags apparently containing the meal left me clueless.
"...sunglasses..."
Big black sunglasses, still clueless.
"...black gloves..."
"Okay?"
He headed towards the closet and proudly pulled out a dress.
"...and a little black dress."
Then the coin dropped.
"We're having breakfast at Tiffany's?"
"We are!"
He had learned I had a thing for old Audrey Hepburn classics and 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' was an all-time favourite which I had made him watch more than one time.
"Get dressed and we'll take a cab there, just like Audrey, or Holly."
How I loved him. The film was clearly not his taste, yet he had gone to all this trouble to recreate it for me. I put on the dress, swirled my hair into a do that reminded of Audrey's more elaborate one and finished by putting on the sunglasses.
"You look very elegant, Mrs. James. Or should I call you Molly Golightly?"
I felt fabulous impersonating this favourite character of mine.
We jumped out of the cab outside Tiffany's and giggling ate the content of the paper bags - croissants, tea for me, coffee for him - while looking at the expensive window display. When we were done, he looked mischievously at me.
"We're not done. You're missing something."
"What?"
"You'll see."
He took my hand and pulled me inside the beautiful store.
"I think you have something for a Mrs. James", he said to the clerk.
While the clerk disappeared to fetch something, and I half died of excitement, he turned to me.
"I love to call you Mrs. James, Mrs. James."
"And I love when you do, Mr. James."
He pulled me to him in a kiss that still lasted when the clerk returned, clearing his throat.
"I must ask", he said curiously, "aren't you...?"
"No, I'm not, there's just a resemblance. I get to hear that quite often."
Whenever I could avoid it, I refrained from acknowledging I had been the Home Secretary. It was just easier like that.
"My name is Mrs. James", I could truthfully add this time.
"Oh, my mistake."
He put an exclusive flat box on the glass counter and Charles seemed all giddy.
"Open it. I had it made for you."
He had said something was missing, and here the pearl necklace was. Not as grand as the one worn by Audrey Hepburn when she had her Tiffany breakfast, but one more suitable for normal people, one perfect for me and incredibly beautiful.
"Do you like it?" he asked expectantly.
"No... I love it! I love all of this, thank you for doing this for me."
He put the necklace on and at the same time placed a kiss at the nape of my neck, giving me goosebumps.
"Do that again and we'll have to take a cab back to the hotel quickly."
Then he did, and then we did.
The second part of the gift was along the same theme and presented to me the morning after we had arrived in Rome. Our honeymoon trip was two weeks in Italy, starting in Rome followed by a road trip in Tuscany. This morning he left me alone in the hotel room when I still was sleepy after a night of very little sleep, and said he had a few things to arrange. When he returned and sat down on the bedside, he looked almost as pleased as when he took me to Tiffany's.
"I know your other Audrey favourite film is 'Roman holiday', so I thought we'd mimic that too."
This time he had prepared outfits for both of us. For me a white short-sleeved blouse, midi-skirt and scarf, for him a light-blue suit identical to the one Gregory Peck wears in the movie. He looked so gorgeous in it that I had to take it off once before we could leave the room. Then he led me to the cutest, Vespa in a colour matching his suit, also exactly like in the movie.
"This is your transportation for the stay in Rome and I'm your driver."
"Aaah, it's so cute! I just adore it! You won't let me drive?"
"No, for two reasons. You're a terrible driver, and the Italians are, let's call it capricious when driving. I don't think that makes for a good combination. If one wants to stay alive that is."
I had every reason to stay alive and frankly, I was very happy to let my handsome husband drive while I sat behind him, leaned my cheek to his back and watched the narrow winding streets of Rome pass by, until we stopped at our next site for sight-seeing. We saw all the mandatory things like St. Peter's Basilica, the Sistine Chapel and Colosseum but those grand places were not what I liked most. It was walking hand in hand through the sea of flowers in Campo de' Fiori knowing he was mine no matter how many beautiful Roman women were glancing at him. It was throwing coins in Fontana di Trevi, knowing that he too made a silent wish for a long, happy life together. Trying our way through as many different tastes of gelato as possible, ending up with limone being my favourite and fresa his, and looking at people passing by while having a cappuccino at any random piazza and gazing up at the sky through the two-thousand-year-old oculus of Pantheon, feeling small in awe of it, yet safe together. And the long nights and lazy mornings as newlyweds, of course.
From Rome we continued to Tuscany, regrettably had to leave the Vespa behind but anyway had a fantastic time on our road trip between the beautiful cities of Florence, Sienna, San Gimignano and Pisa. Enjoyed the amazing landscape, stayed in small hotels, had fantastic Italian food and more gelato and spent lazy days at the beach. It was truly the honeymoon trip made in heaven.
So, after all that I felt more than happy with the alone time we had had as newlyweds and did not mind at all that Sam would be with us these days in the cottage. He had been hesitant to join us to a place without Wi-Fi, but we finally convinced him he would survive for a few days, that it would be possible to go swimming and fishing and most importantly that we really wished him to be part of our life.
That first afternoon after arriving was fantastic, such easy fun. Late in the evening, when Charles had tucked Sam to sleep in the sofa bed, he joined me in the bathroom when I just had finished brushing my teeth.
"This was a success. He admitted he's had fun without internet connection."
"That's huge."
"Sure you don't regret we didn't come alone here on our honeymoon?"
"Absolutely no regrets, I love having him here."
"And do you want me sleeping on the sofa bed or in your bed this time?"
In the mirror I saw him cocking an eyebrow in his characteristic teasing way.
"There's absolutely no way I let you sleep anywhere else than in my bed."
I turned to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Glad to hear it. Then Mrs. James, what do you say about ditching these?"
He kept the teasing tone, but his eyes were now serious, and he had reached out his hand and picked up my blister pack with pills from where it was lying on the edge of the basin.
I looked at him searchingly.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
"I'm ready for the rest of my life with you to start. All I ever want is to make you happy."
"You're already making me very happy. Happier than I thought was possible."
"So, is that a yes?"
"Yes."
We both smiled as he threw the pills in the bin.
"Should we hit the bed then, Mrs. James? I've barely been able to keep my hands off you today."
"Ditto."
For the first time in this cottage, we went to bed as married, but it certainly was not the last. We came back to this place where we first had found our love many times over the years to come - alone, with Sam and later with our own children. It always remained our happy-place. One of them, because the truth was that we were happy wherever we were together.
A/N: I'm always a bit sad to end a story but thanks for reading and reviewing and hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Luckily there are always new stories.
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