Blimey, that last chapter was unpopular wasn't it! Not a single review, I'm going to blame the scorching weather meaning that none of you read chapter 14 – and not that you all hated it! I do hope you didn't, anyway – here we have chapter 13, where hopefully you can all enjoy yourselves a little more!
Thank you all again for all your reviews, they really all are fabulous and please do carry on!
This chapter's songs are:
- Don't go breaking my heart – Elton John
- Glory Box - Portishead
Enjoy! X
Further A/N: for those of you outside the UK, the reference to James Naughtie and "Hunt-gate". JN is a BBC radio4 presenter, on the Today program who made an unfortunate and infamous spoonerism at around 8am involving Jeremy Hunt the Culture secretary
Don't go breaking my heart, I couldn't if I tried. Oh honey if I get restless, baby you're not that kind. So don't go breaking my heart.You take the weight off of me, oh honey when you knock on my door. I gave you my key. Nobody knows it, when I was down I was your clown. Nobody knows it, right from the start, gave you my heart.
Whoever was running the juke-box in the pub had a dark sense of humour, Patrick checked his watch, 2:27, she might be running late, but then again she might not be. He had been waiting an hour or so, arriving early was out of character for him but then – this was important. He had to make sure this was one meeting that he didn't miss, was late for or other whys messed up. He took a sip of his pint and ran his biro along the page of his news-paper.
Eastern European buff (6)
He tapped the top of the paper with the pen and roughed out his options above the headline,
"Buff … buff … wipe … shine …"
"Polish, the Eastern European bit it is Polish, and to buff is to polish." turning sharply in his seat, Patrick turned to face the owner of the voice. Shelagh was wrapped up in her coat against the cool winter air, she stood behind his chair, her fingertips resting against the sticky varnished wood of the back.
"Well done, very clever."
"I've been spending too much time with you and the Sunday papers clearly."
"Clearly. I bought you a drink."
"Thanks, very kind." Unzipping her jacket, Shelagh pulled up the seat opposite him, she pulled the glass of gin and tonic towards her, running her finger around the cool glass rubbing off the condensation. "How have you been?"
"Well, me and Tim have just been dossing about watching Sherlock … the usual. And you?"
"I'm fine. I went to Gladys Pugh's funeral … look I should apologise."
"You don't have to."
"No I do, I have to because I was … cruel. I shouldn't have talked like that about Clare."
"You were right though, when I was with you it was like … like learning a different language. You're so different to how she ever was and I know I didn't always get it right."
"All the same, I am sorry."
"So am I – I was scared of losing you, and in my mind I just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. With Clare she … she needed protecting, she was a kind woman who wouldn't say boo to a goose. You're not like that, but I'm used to trying to protect the people I care about. I went about it all wrong. I shouldn't have said all that about your flat, my only excuse was that I was in shock."
"Yeah … me too. How have you been?"
"Good, sent Tim off for the weekend … you?"
"Oh you know, the usual, got a lot of cleaning done, a lot of karaoke too actually."
"Jesus – do the girls all think I a total knob?"
"No no, you're safe. If they though that you had hurt me you'd have a knife in-between your shoulder blades by now. I didn't tell them a thing … I wasn't sure what was going to happen. So, shall we do this?" She looked up from her glass and looked into his eyes, she watched him lick his lips slowly before he nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket as she slipped her hand into her coat pocket they both, in unison pulled out the keys.
"Sure? There's no going back now."
"Good. That's the way it should be, no going back … in for the long haul!"
"I concur – so … here you are, there's only the one key for the front door, but you have to turn the key left then right."
"Of course you do! Right, well no such issues with mine, the brass key is for the main door on the tower block and then the silvery one is for my front door … so that's that."
"That's that. Well you know, now you can just pop over whenever you want."
"Likewise, I suppose I'll have to keep the flat a bit tidier now, in case of spot inspections."
"I'm not much bothered about the flat to be honest … as long as you've got clean sheets!"
"I'll do my best! I'd best be off I suppose … come round whenever you like …"
"Tonight? Tim's gone to Kathy's for the weekend – I didn't want him to deal with all this."
"If you like, bring a bottle – I'll cook. Let yourself in …"
"I will love … and I love you."
"I love you too, and even if I didn't … now you've got my front door key I'd be a bit screwed!"
I'm so tired of playing, playing with this bow and arrow. Gonna give my heart away, leave it to the other girls to play, for I've been a temptress for far too long. Just give me a reason to love you, give me a reason to be a woman; I just wanna be a woman.
"Are you OK?"
"Never better – just … need a second to … catch my breath … this is what happens when you seduce old men … You know, you're the only person I've ever met who actually has sex to music."
"It wasn't deliberate – this is what happens when you seduce young women doing the washing up with Radio 2."
"Better than Radio 4 – I'm not sure John Humphries would approve."
"No … maybe James Naughtie, he always seems quite fun."
"You're only saying that because of Hunt-gate."
"Maybe you're right. Umm – do you fancy some bacon?"
"It's 3 in the morning."
"It's breakfast time somewhere, Pakistan maybe? And bacon shouldn't be constrained by the hour of the day anyway."
"What a very eloquent description of bacon, I think you ought to marry me."
"I think Bacon is a poor basis for marriage."
"Probably, but I still want you to marry me."
Shelagh paused, flat on her back, watching a fly dance across the ceiling she turned sharply, twisting onto her side she looked into Patrick's eyes. He stared back at her, raising an eyebrow he gave her half a smile and extended a hand to run his hand along her exposed arm.
"You're insane. I mean you're wonderful and brilliant and I love you, but you are insane."
"Certifiable. What do you think."
"I think you're mad, I also think that a massive row and resultant fantastic sex is in no way the basis for a lasting marriage."
"Thanks for the compliment."
"You're welcome, right, I'm going to cook some bacon. Pass me that t-shirt."
"No, I refuse."
"Well I'm not going to cook bacon naked, the burns would take some explaining to A&E, now pass me that top!"
"I refuse, unless you marry me!" He replied, a smile playing on his lips as he sat up in the bed, blocking Shelagh's way to the t-shirt. She made a feeble attempt to reach around and grab it from the side of the bed, but he caught her wrist and his smile broadened.
"Patrick, I'm not going to marry you! You've had too much to drink …"
"OK, I've had too much to drink, and I'm full of adrenalin and endorphins … would you ever?"
"Ever? Yes … I might."
"Think about it?"
"I'll think about it, but only if you give me my bloody top so I can go and cook some bacon!"
"Deal." Handing over her t-shirt Shelagh started laughing, she pulled the top down over her stomach she tilted her head back and carried on laughing, bending down she kissed Patrick softly on the lips.
"You're ridiculous, you're brilliant but you're completely insane and ridiculous."
*is it against hospital policy to slap fathers to be? S X*
*Probably, I've never checked – any reason? P X*
*He's got the radio on to listen to the cricket S x*
*Early labour is dull I suppose P x*
*She's 10cm dilated! Sx *
*Shall I drive in and give him a stern talking to? P X*
*Yes please! S x*
Tim kicked his legs against the velour of the seat cover, Simon's Dad had once again agreed to bring him home from scouts, and having dropped his own son off with his mother he was now snaking his way across east London towards Tim's house. Pulling up at a set of red lights he turned slightly towards Tim.
"So Tim, the woman I … umm met, at your Dads?"
"Shelagh?"
"Is that her name?"
"Yeah."
"Is she a … friend of your Dads then?"
"Yeah she's his girlfriend; it was a bit weird at first. But it's cool now … they had a bit of an argument last month, Dad thinks I don't know because he sent me to Aunty Kath's house, but I know. They're fine again now though, happier really."
"She's nice is she? Shelagh?"
"Yeah, she's really nice. She took me to the Huntrian museum last week!"
"What's that?"
"It's a museum that this weird surgeon made, it's got loads of pickled organs in, it was really gross!"
"Ahh - thinking about following in your Dad's footsteps then?"
"Oh no, I don't want to be a doctor, there was animal stuff there too, like stuffed birds and pickled baby chickens – that's what I liked. Shelagh's really good, she showed me all how animals develop inside – because she's a midwife see. And then how different animals reproduce so that some have live babies and some have eggs. There was a dead snake full of eggs – it looked like a sock full of oranges!"
"I imagine it would … so they met at work then?"
"Who?"
"Your Dad and Shelagh."
"Oh yeah, they've been friends for years I think … well thanks for driving me home."
"Oh your welcome, do you want me to come to the door with you?"
"No, I'm fine thanks. Dad's not in anyway, Shelagh's on nights so she's going let me in."
"Oh … well are you sure you wouldn't like a hand with your bag?"
"You can if you want …"
Leaving the people carrier, Simon's Dad and Tim made their way up the garden path towards the front door, waiting for someone to answer their knock the stood awkwardly. Tim had no idea why his friend's Dad wanted to come to the door so much, usually he just dropped him off and called a few words through the car window to Tim's father, but he had insisted on coming. After a few moments they could hear the padding of foot-steps on the stairs, and the vague outline of Shelagh appeared through the mottled glass of the front door. Appearing in her pyjamas and a pair of bed socks Shelagh smiled noticing Tim before his companion.
"Hey love, how was camping?"
"Good thanks … umm Simon's Dad wanted to drop me off."
"Oh right – well thanks!" She said, turning to the man, suddenly aware that her shorts and vest combination wasn't leaving as much to the imagination as she would have liked,
"Oh no probs, it was a pleasure … actually umm …"
"Yes?"
"Could I use your toilet?"
"Oh umm, yeah of course, there's one just next to the kitchen." she paused to let the man pass, before turning back to Tim. "So, come on then – what did you get up to?"
"Usual, tents and walking – can I watch tele?"
"Yeah course, do you want something to eat before I go back to bed?"
"Can I have coco-pops?"
"Yeah, give me your bag too, I'll shove all your stuff in the washing machine."
"Thanks Shelagh." Picking up the ruc-sack she wandered into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle before bundling up the contents of the bag into the machine and decanting some cereal into a bowl. She was pouring herself a cup of herbal tea when there was a cough behind her and she turned on her heels to see who it was.
"Hi, sorry I forgot about you! You're Simon's Dad aren't you?"
"Yeah – call me Mark."
"Right … so …"
"Right yeah so you're Patrick's -?"
"Girlfriend yeah. Well I was just going to have a cup of tea and …"
"Oh great that'd be great." He replied eagerly sitting down at the kitchen table, smiling widely at her,
"Oh right … great!" she tried to look enthusiastic about the possibility of the company when she needed sleep before her night shift. Making him a cup of tea she sat down opposite Mark and began what she knew was going to be an unending diatribe of some sort.
Three hours later she heard the front door go and she looked up with relief as Patrick walked into the kitchen, he looked surprised as he saw her sat in the kitchen at four in the afternoon.
"Hi love, why are you up?"
"Mark dropped Tim home … three hours ago, he wanted a cup of tea."
"Oh hi Mark, yeah love – why don't you go to bed, I'll wake you up for work."
"Sorry Shelagh, I completely lost track of time!" Replied Mark, standing up sharply, looking between the couple, before awkwardly picking up his coat and pausing again to look between the two of them.
"It's fine, but I do need my bed if I'm going to get through tonight! Bye Mark." Shelagh gave Patrick a quick raised eyebrow as she stepped past them to move out of the kitchen, Patrick in turn watched her leave and then slowly rotated to face Mark.
"So, you've met Shelagh then?"
"Yeah – she's a great girl!"
"Yeah she really is … so … I mean thanks for dropping Tim back home and everything."
"Yes of course, I'd best be going … it was great to meet Shelagh, really was!"
"I'm sure. Bye then …"
"Yes bye – and say good bye to Shelagh for me!" Waiting for Mark to make his way back to his car Patrick poked his head around the living room door to check on Tim, who had fallen asleep in front of the cricket. He padded slowly up stairs to the bedroom, Shelagh had already fallen half asleep as he sat down on the edge of the bed, she stirred slightly and turned over to face him.
"You are never spending time with that man again."
"I like it when you get jealous. He's harmless enough – just a bit keen that's all."
"Who can blame him."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, but if you really loved me, you'd bugger off and let me get some sleep!"
"Hmm – I suppose you're lucky that I love you then."