Good afternoon ladies and gents!
I have been away enjoying a leisurely holiday – which is why you guys have been update-less for a while! So apologies, I had great plans to pre-write a chapter and upload it while on holiday … but that never happened so … sorry!
Thank you so much for all your reviews, I know I always say it - but they really do mean a lot to me, and I love them all. So - please do review, and I'll be very grateful!
This chapter is very dialogue heavy so be prepared for that - I try not to do too many chapters like that, but hey-ho!
This chapter's songs are:
Be my baby - The Ronnettes
Happy - Pharell Williams
Enjoy - and thanks for reading!
"Ham?"
"Ham."
"Cheese?"
"Cheese. Then there's egg-mayonnaise … which I'm going to cover in cling film and put back in the fridge, because the smell is making me feel nauseous."
"You can't argue with the masses Patrick, egg-mayo is a popular sandwich."
"Alas. Now … cake?"
"Iced and in the fridge, twiglets?"
"Artistically arranged, and the sausage rolls are hidden from Bernadette in the top cupboard."
"Excellent. Cava?"
"Chilling as we speak, along with the lemonade. I think we're good to go."
"Right … lets go get christened! Where's Tim?"
"I sent him back upstairs, his hair was a state – I made him go and attack it with a comb."
"On which note … Patrick."
"What?"
"Your hair."
"What's wrong with it?"
"… Nothing, absolutely nothing."
The night we met I knew I needed you so, and if I had the chance I'd never let you go, so won't you say you love me? I'll make you so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go. So won't you, please? - Be my, be my baby - Be my little baby …
Shelagh pushed her glasses up her nose as she pulled up to the traffic lights and waited for the steady stream of traffic to pass, checking her watch she exhaled a thin stream of air and considered which was the quickest to get to the church. Tim was sat behind her and beside Nina, texting with an alarming speed and plugged into his ipod at the same time, thereby avoiding Shelagh and Patrick's taste in music. A beeping came from the passenger foot well, overriding radio 2,
"That's me, I think it's in the front pocket of my handbag maybe?" Patrick reached down and hunted through his wife's bag until he found her mobile,
"It's Julie, she's at the church with your sister – no sign of Kathy as yet."
"It's alright - plenty of time, actually do you want to text Molly and tell her we're going to be another 20 minutes? I don't want Dad waiting around outside."
"Yeah of course love, which way are you going to go?"
"I thought round by the big Asda?"
"Yeah – I think that's best, up past the leisure center'll be gridlocked." as he sent off the text to his sister in law, the mobile phone in his coat pocket started ringing, "Shit." he muttered.
"Don't answer it."
"It's work I'll have to, urgh – sorry love … Hello, Dr Turner … oh Dr Morgan-Evans! Sorry Emlyn … yes of course … Well that would be just brilliant … no no … yes, although – actually I'm not with my diary … actually sorry Emlyn, I'm going to have to ring you back … no no, it's fine! I'm actually on the way to my daughter's christening so … yes. Uh … tomorrow? Lovely – bye then! Bye."
"Emlyn Morgan-Evans?"
"The doctor from Cardiff, trying to bring home birth to the 21st century."
"Nope … means nothing to me."
"The man I was with at Cardiff uni when you went into labour."
"Oh him! Ahh – what did he want?"
"I completely forgot – I said I'd get in contact with him about the Royston, he's really interested in all the work you've done!"
"Wow – and he has an appalling sense of timing!"
"Clearly, as bad as mine do you think?"
"Ummm … worse maybe. I'm not sure, you managed to be in Wales when I went into labour."
"That is bad timing, although I did make it back in time."
"True, I think you have bad timing, but an excellent degree of urgency when required."
"I'll take that. Oh bugger – is this way jammed up too?"
"By the looks of it, what shall we do?"
"Where the hell is everyone going this morning?"
"Lord knows, maybe news got out of Nina's christening and they're trying to sabotage it … if I take a left at the lights and go round the back of the park."
"Yeah … as long the jam doesn't go past the high street we should be able to re-join the main road and go round Asda."
"Good plan Batman!"
"Ooh – what's the difference between Batman and a robber?"
"I have absolutely no idea Patrick."
"Batman can go into a shop without Robin."
"… You're wasted in medicine do you know that."
"I've often thought so."
The first few drops of rain were just starting just as the photographs were finished, and there was a mad dash for cars outside the church. Shelagh and Patrick just made it as a thunderclap sounded out and a shot of white cracked the sky in two,
"Do you think it's a sign? Do you think we've angered God getting her christened?"
"Probably, we've angered a vengeful God."
"Do you think we'll be smited?" asked Tim from the back seat, brushing water from his face.
"For now I will stretch out my hand, that I may smite thee and thy people with pestilence; and thou shalt be cut off from the earth." Replied Shelagh with a laugh,
"What's that love?"
"Oh Exodus something or-other, now does everyone know where we're going?"
"I think so yes, Dan's taking the girls so they can direct, and Molly's with your Dad following them."
"And Kathy's taking the vicar, Julie and Stephen, perfect! Did you like the service Tim?"
"It was alright."
"Profound as ever Tim." muttered Patrick checking the road and pulling out of the tight spot Shelagh had slotted them into outside the churches main gate. "Anything more to add to your commentary of the day?"
"Dad – leave off. It was nice … it was a christening – you can't get that excited about christenings."
"He has got a point Patrick, it's hardly a day out at the races."
"No, but it is your sister's christening Tim! You should be at least vaguely interested." Swallowing hard as Patrick and Tim carried on bickering, Shelagh turned back to the front and looked out of the windscreen to the drizzle covered road. It always made her slightly uncomfortable when Patrick referred to Nina and Tim as siblings, she knew that it was perfectly reasonable thing to say, and she felt silly for feeling uncomfortable and yet she couldn't help it. Her role in Tim's life was so undefined, she was always felt more like Patrick's partner rather than Tim's stepmother, always reluctant to scold him in case he retaliated and pushed her away, something she was terrified of, or even worse in case Patrick turned against her. Pulling up at the lights, checking that various other cars were all vaguely close by, Patrick caught sight of Shelagh beside him, she had the look on her face, the furrow of the brow and the slight chewing of the inside of her lip that told him that she was worried – he tried to catch her eye but she was fixated by the middle distance of the road. Reaching out he placed a hand on hers, twisted up in her lap, she turned quickly towards him, blinking out of her reverie with a forced smile she took a deep breath,
"Do you think that Bernadette found the sausage rolls … ?" she asked quickly,
"No, I put them in the top cupboard … shit, did you hide the trifle?"
"… yes?"
"Actually, I put the trifle in the fridge." came a sullen reply from the back seat, Shelagh turned in the front to face her step-son.
"Really?"
"I'm not an idiot, cream and custard … that's like ... heroin for cats!"
"Well quite, uh … Tim, radio 1?" Asked Patrick, casting another glance at his wife as he turned left,
"Really? And you won't whinge at the music? Cool!"
It might seem crazy what I'm about to say, sunshine she's here, you can take a break. I'm a hot air balloon that could go to space, with the air, like I don't care baby by the way. Because I'm happy, clap along if you feel like a room without a roof, because I'm happy
"Love, are you alright?" Asked Patrick, sliding a hand around Shelagh's waist and pulling her away from the sink, she turned slowly and slid her arms around his waist,
"Do you think everyone's alright?"
"That's not what I asked Shelagh." he said, pressing further.
"Do … do you think of Nina and Tim as brother and sister?"
"Yes, of course … why, don't you?"
"Ach – I do, of course I do I just … I don't know, I'm being daft."
"You're never daft, go on – tell me what's wrong Shelagh."
"Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong I just … I wonder where I stand sometimes."
"With who? You mean Tim?"
"I suppose so, I mean … I wonder if I'm your wife, or his step-mother or both or … see I told you I was being daft."
"I take it back, you are being daft. Tim loves you, as much as you love him, and as much as I love you! Your biological ties to him, or lack of – are irrelevant to me or to him, you're just as much part of his life and just as important to his up-bringing as I am." He finished intently, bending slightly to compensate for the height difference he looked her in the eyes and smiled broadly. Shelagh sighed slowly and met his smile with her own,
"You talk a lot of sense you know."
"I try." he replied, leaning in for a kiss. A creak behind him made them both turn quickly, catching sight of Kathy stood in the doorway holding a glass of wine in one hand and a bowl of trifle in one hand.
"Oh there you two are, Shelagh, your Dad's a riot!"
"Uhh thank you … is every one alright in there?"
"Oh yes, yes no we're all fine – just on the hunt for the sausage rolls actually." Stifling a smile, Shelagh nodded slowly as Patricks hand slid, hidden from Kathy's view, up the back of her jumper - his fingers tracing lines along the cool of her spine.
"I'll bring some out now for you." There was a moment's pause, before Shelagh caught Patrick's eye and broke away from him with a half glance back, letting Kathy turn away from the kitchen and back to an in-depth conversation with Molly in the hallway she stepped back towards her husband. "I think you deserve a reward for putting up with my family today."
"Do you indeed? Well … you'll hear no objections from me."
"Oh I'm sure I won't!"
Running a hand across her stomach, Patrick pressed a kiss into his wife's shoulder; her hip, buried beneath the duvet was warm to the touch as he slid his fingers along her waist and up her ribcage. Half asleep she stirred as he lightly reached the top of her spine, rolling on to her back her eyes snapped open,
"Trevor Eve." she said suddenly.
"What?"
"What?"
"You just said Trevor Eve."
"Did I? I don't know why."
"Should I be worried?"
"No I don't think so, he's a nice looking chap but we're unlikely to ever cross paths."
"And that's the only reason?"
"Oh – well obviously, and I love you too much to ever run off with Trevor Eve."
"Really?"
"Oh aye." Turning over onto her side, Shelagh stretched out an arm and pulled Patrick towards her, resting her head on his chest she laughed, she tried to stay quiet but failed miserably.
"What's up with you giggler?"
"I just realised why I said Trevor Eve when I woke up."
"Oh?"
"I had a dream about Shoestring."
"About shoe strings?"
"No – Shoestring. Do you remember that police program; Trevor Eve was a private detective in Bristol?"
"No, I must have missed out on that particular televisual treat!"
"Oh you've missed out Patrick - he's got a moustache!"
"Well that's … great."
"Do you know he's married to the woman off the Nescafé adverts?"
"Shelagh – go to sleep."
"I don't want to go to sleep … I want to stay awake."
"You're starting to waffle love."
"Well – in that case I'll just have to stop talking."
"What do you … oh!"
"Nina's asleep in her room and Tim's asleep in the attic … you're not in work tomorrow."
"No, no I'm not am I. Well Mrs Turner – you make a very persuasive argument!"
"I'm wasted in nursing, I should have been an MP."