Yeah I lied, I said it would be a while before my next post – but it turn out that this is more fun than paperwork at the moment so here we have a new chapter of my little modern day Turnadette. It's a pretty fluffy chapter but that's because their MAY be angst to come … then again their might not be, you'll have to wait and see!

Thanks again for all the fab reviews and please do keep on sending them in, because they do make me stupidly happy!

This chapter's songs are:

- Tom Jones – Kiss
- Pitbull ft Christina Aguilera – Feel this moment
- McFly – It's all about you

(Yes – I have somewhat varied music tastes)

Enjoy x

You don't have to be beautiful to turn me on, I just need your body, baby, from dusk till dawn. You don't need experience to turn me out, you just leave it all up to me I'll show you what it's all about. You don't have to be rich to be my girl, you don't have to be cool to rule my world. Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with, I just want your extra time and your KISS.

"Shelagh? Turn it down a second …"

"Are you seriously asking me to turn down TJ?!"

"I am – now where did you want me to move the table?"

"Oh – ummm – into that corner, beside the sofa?"

"Right, how's the cake coming along?"

"Just cooling – I'll ice it in a bit, do you need a hand?"

"What makes you think I can't shift a coffee table on my own?"

"Just don't want you putting your back out old man!"

"Oh very witty – you know I could have you out on the street if you're not well behaved!"

"You don't have to be rich to be my girl, you don't have to be cool to rule my world. Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with I just want your extra time and your KISS … come here you."

"I'm shifting tables – what do you want?"

"A kiss – come on, it is my birthday after all."

"Am I only allowed to kiss you on your birthday?"

"No – you're allowed to kiss me whenever you want, but you have to kiss me on my birthday. It's the law!"

"Well – I wouldn't want to break the law!" Patrick smiled as he stepped across his cluttered living room and picked up Shelagh's hand pulling her in towards him, he slid his hands to her waist and traced a finger under the hem of her top feeling the warm skin exposed at the base of her spine. Bending down slightly to compensate for the height difference Patrick leant in towards Shelagh, kissing her softly on the lips he kept his face a hairs breadth away from hers resting his forehead against her, he inhaled, breathing in her smell.

"Come on you – we need to get cracking, I've put Tim to work doing the song lists on my laptop. And I've got a cake to ice and you Dr Turner have got some furniture to shift, we'll be needing dancing and mingling room."

"Mingling you say?"

"Yeah, every good party has mingling and dancing."

"Now, before I let you go -"

"How sweet it is while lying down to hear fierce winds and hold a mistress with a tender grasp."

"Keats?"

"A. M. Juster I think – sorry, go on."

"Before I let you go, would you like your birthday present?"

"I thought having the party at yours was my present?"

"Don't be daft, that's just a perk of being your boyfriend … don't get too excited, it's just something I thought you might like … I hope you do. Here." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a box, around the size of a packet of cigarettes and wrapped in a blue patterned paper and taped up somewhat too well with sellotape. "Tim wrapped it – so you might need a blow torch to get through the tape!" Raking her thumb nail across the tape Shelagh tried to break into the present, it took a while but she eventually broke into one end and exposed the box underneath, covered in a dark green leatherette it was unmistakably a jewellery box.

"Patrick … what is it?"

"Well open it and see – don't get too excited, I just thought you might like it you know … I saw it in town with Tim and I thought of you." Gently Shelagh opened the box, breaking into a smile she looked up at Patrick,

"It's beautiful, it's so lovely and perfect, it's completely perfect … thank you."

"You like it then?"

"I love it – it's … it's perfect, and lovely and … beautiful."

"I was going to buy you a thesaurus but then I saw that -"

"Oh shut your face! I'm trying to be nice, but it is … lovely." She picked the silver necklace out of the box, it's small pendant, the size of a one pence piece was a silver jigsaw piece, running her thumb over the surface she smiled again before reaching up to put it on.

"Do you want a hand?"

"No – it's alright, I've got it … don't make that face. I know you like being a gentleman but after 30 – oh 31 years on the planet I've learnt to put on jewellery myself, I don't put your tie on for you."

"I'd let you if you wanted to."

"Well you're just kinky!"

One day while my light is glowing I'll be in my castle golden but until the gates are open, I just wanna feel this moment, I just wanna feel this moment, I just wanna feel this moment ….

Patrick leant against the kitchen counter, a tin of beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other he watched the party in the living room, with the over spill of chatting people in the kitchen stood among the fairy lights and music laughing and dancing and drinking and eating. The guests were a mixture of Shelagh's friends and their own mutual ones, with a smattering of colleagues churned into the mixture. Julie and Jenny were stood near the cooker, laughing wildly and drinking wine, while Cynthia and a squad of Shelagh's friends, some of whom he knew and some he didn't were dancing in the living room to the pounding music. Peter Noaks broke through throng in the kitche,

"Patrick! Brilliant party mate."

"Thanks Peter, it's all Shelagh's doing I'm afraid, she knows how to party!"

"That she does! Any more tins about?"

"Uh yeah – try the fridge. So how are things with you and uh … Camilla?"

"Oh yeah great, she's moving into mine next month."

"Braver man than me Gunga-Din, you won't have a plate left in the place within a week."

"Tell me about it – I thought about getting in plastic ones for the big move."

"You must be happy though."

"Oh yeah – I'm chuffed to bits. What about you and Shelagh? Thought about moving in together?"

"Not really, I would but it's a big ask – she's lived in her flat for years, it's her home. You're only asking Camilla to move out of halls, it's not quite the same is it."

"Suppose not no, but it's the same commitment."

"Yes you're ri -" Patrick broke off, turning as a chorus of singing started in the lounge,

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Shelaaaaaaaaagh! Happy Birthday to you! For she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow …. And so say all of us! And so say all of us, and so say all of us, for she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow … and so say all of us!"

"Hip hip – hooray, hip hip – hooray, hip hip – hooray!"

"And one for good luck! Hip hip … Hooray!" a cheer went up, and there was a clamour of kisses and hugs and more cheers as Shelagh laughed and caught Patricks eye, having had her fill of attention she made her way back into the kitchen to join him.

"Quite the belle of the ball aren't we Nurse McDonald!"

"Oh shut up – come and dance with me."

"No love, I don't dance."

"Oh come on you do – I'm sure you do."

"Love, I don't dance, promise you now – you will never see Patrick Turner dance."

"Not even a slow dance?"

"A slow dance maybe – if you're lucky!

"Ha – I look forward to it!"

"Good night Patrick – well done, it's been great!"

"Night mate – thanks for coming. You off as well Julie?"

"Yes, I know Trixie was sorry that she couldn't make it! But you know Sister Evangelina …"

"I do, I do – well thanks for coming!"

"Oh you're very welcome, Stephen's had fun too – possibly too much, let's hope he makes it to bed tonight!"

"Let's hope – night Julie, night Stephen!"

"Ni-ni-night Patrick – excellent party! Best I've ever … ever … never been too. Good night … where am I going?"

"Turn right – no the other right … Lord, wish me luck Patrick!"

"Good luck!" With a laugh, Patrick turned and started back toward the kitchen, the last few stragglers were sat on the sofa or on the floor, the music has descended into slower quieter melodies as the slow fug of cigarettes drifted up towards the ceiling and cups and tins and glasses lined the edge of the room. The kitchen was deserted apart from Shelagh who was stood barefoot, her chunky cardigan over her navy party dress sipping tea. Making his way silently across the floor Patrick pulled up an armchair that had been moved into the kitchen for the party,

"Hello you."

"Hello yourself – had a good party Miss Birthday Girl?"

"I have – thank you."

"It was only a party."

"No I mean for everything – thank you."

"Well you're very welcome love." Shelagh smiled broadly and stepped slowly over to Patrick, lowering himself onto her lap she curled up her legs and tucked them up against the arm rest.

"I love you … I don't say it enough."

"I love you too – and you say it plenty often for me. Every time you say it I can quite believe that it's you who's saying it to me."

"Well it is, and I'll keep on saying it for a while yet." Pushing her hand down behind his neck, Shelagh pulled Patrick in tightly for a hug, feeling the flutter of his heartbeat from beneath his jumper against her chest. She handed him the mug of tea and he took the last mouthful and placed it on the counter. The music from the living room travelled through in strains, barely audible, shifting slightly in the chair Patrick kissed her softly on the cheek, and lacing his fingers through hers he pushed Shelagh upright and stood up himself.

"I owe you a dance." His hand on the small of her back, she stepped in close and rested her head against his collar, she felt the awkward shuffle of his hands as they struggled to find there place on her back, shifting slowly around the floor to the tune drifting in through the open door.

Yesterday, you asked me something I thought you knew. So I told you with a smile 'It's all about you', Then you whispered in my ear and you told me too, Say 'If you make my life worthwhile, it's all about you'. And I would answer all your wishes, if you asked me to. But if you deny me one of your kisses, don't know what I'd do. So hold me close and say three words, like you used to do. Dancing on the kitchen tiles, it's all about you.

"Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, here's to many more."

"And cups of tea at two in the morning."

"And early starts."

"And bad jokes."

"That reminds me – How does a witch tell the time? With a witchwatch."

"Brilliant."