Alfie's 50th, because them being on bad terms on the actual day sucked :(

"Alfie?" Kat called out as she made her way toward the kitchen. She could make out the frame of her husband sitting at the table, head buried in his hands. Following their heart to heart in the first year of their marriage, she had been left with no doubt that he had formerly hated birthdays, but she honestly thought that she'd helped to change that. Age was just a number and the eye-opener had come when she'd challenged him as to what age he wished he could stay. He'd replied eighteen. Kat had then asked him whether he'd been truly happy at that point in his life, and of course the answer was no. He'd been living for the moment, plodding along until the next piece of excitement came. He'd had some fun as all young people do, but it was never a life that he desired for the long term. There was simply not enough of a purpose in it. Surely he'd rather the life that they had and die happy in thirty years, less even; than to live forever never finding his place in life?

As Kat drew closer to him, she cursed the as yet unknown senders of the various cards which lay abandoned, emblazoned with either the word fifty or the figures 50. Both meant exactly the same, and both she'd specifically warned friends and family to avoid. To the best of her knowledge, Alfie wasn't nearly as anti-birthdays as he had once been, but he was never going to turn into the world's greatest fan of them, itching to show off his latest milestone to all and sundry. Some years he'd seemed to look forward to the event, in hindsight probably due to the promise of sexy lingerie and various other inducements. She was currently feeling not dissimilar to a baby hippo, so the offer of another birthday spent confined to the bedroom likely wouldn't have had the same effect.

"Ignore them," she pleaded with her husband, gathering up the offending articles and tucking them behind the bread bin, out of immediate sight. "They're overpriced, folded pieces of card with a few words and foil numbers stuck onto them."

"It's not just them," Alfie said, almost despondently.

Having discarded the evidence of the occasion, Kat sat down next to her husband and immediately took his hands in hers. "What is it then?"

Hesitating, Alfie shook his head slightly, as if admitting that there wasn't one specific problem. "Roxy for a start. 'Only ten years to go until you get your bus pass,'" he quoted her unflattering comment.

"What year's she living in? She's having a laugh."

Unsure as to whether her intention had been primarily to cheer him up or to insult Roxy following Ronnie's hand in their eviction from the Vic, Alfie frowned. Irrespective of the truth in Kat's statement and the associated inaccuracy of Roxy's comment, it didn't alter the fact that old age was creeping up on him; not so slowly any longer, it seemed.

"Alfie?"

"I'm too old Kat."

"How do you mean?" Kat eyed her husband curiously. They'd encountered many issues throughout their marriage, but the age gap had never been one of them. True she'd jumped into the relationship without knowing his age and hadn't even bothered to look at it on the marriage certificate, but she'd been with enough of the wrong sort in her time that age was the last thing she was concerned about. With all of her baggage, there were never going to be queues of men willing to take her on, not for more than a quick fumble. And certainly not kind, genuine, considerate men like him.

"Men my age are usually looking forward to their retirement and becoming a grandparent, not having twins."

Tears immediately began to form in Kat's eyes. She didn't like where this seemed to be heading. She didn't like it at all. "What are you saying? You don't want them?"

"Kat, of course I'm not. I want them more than anything, you know that. Our family," he quickly reassured her, shuffling his chair closer to her and taking her in his arms.

Pulling away, Kat looked him square in the face. "Good, it's a bit late to be backing out on me now."

"Never," he smiled back at her. "I just meant what if I'm too old and tired to do all the things that a dad's supposed to? Playing football, teaching them to swim and ride a bike."

"You won't be," she quickly attempted to reassure her husband. "You'll probably lose the dad's race at father's day, but who cares? There are kids out there with parents that don't even want them, or with mothers like mine willing to throw their kids under a bus just to take the easy way out, because something happened which didn't fit into her picture of the perfect family life." So deep seated was her resentment of Viv that it had emerged without her intending to reference it. She had only been meaning to make a point, not to turn it increasingly personal. It was a figure of speech of course, but true. Kat didn't like the idea of having to explain to Tommy, Bert and Ernie that she'd been abused in the worst possible way; she wished they didn't have to know that such evil existed in the world, but they needed to know that they could always talk to her or their father, whatever happened. It was something they'd agreed upon long ago, back in the early days of trying for a baby, lying in each other's arms afterwards and hoping that that was the day that they got lucky.

"I guess you're right," muttered Alfie.

"I know I am. This is me you're talking to, I know better than most that age is just a number when it comes to being a parent. Everyone told me I was too young to be Zoe's mum but I wasn't. I didn't have the money to feed or clothe her but that was all I couldn't do. I took her to the park whenever I could get away with it, I got up early to dress her, I bathed her whenever mum and dad spent the evening arguing and I fed her while my mum tried to get one of Little Mo's toys back off of Belinda. It just screwed me up more when they all said that I couldn't do any of those things. If I couldn't comfort her as well as my parents could it was only because they froze me out," Kat reflected sadly. "You deserve this more than anyone and if anyone says anything, they'll have me to deal with," she finally warned.

"You mean it?"

"Of course. No one is going to ruin this for you. Nature steps in when someone's too old to have a baby. You've got another ten years at least. If any of us should be the subject of age related gossip, it'll be me."

"Really?"

Kat nodded. "Even these days early forties is about the limit. When I missed my period I seriously thought it was the start of the menopause; I didn't think we'd be this lucky, not after all the years we got nowhere."

"Tell me about it. When she said it was twins, I thought I was hallucinating."

"So did I!" Kat agreed.

"I thought you were just scared."

"I was never scared. For half an hour maybe about the birth, but that was it. I realised there's no point in trying to second guess how it'll be because no two births are the same. It might be easier than with Tommy because twins are smaller, or it might be the most uncomfortable hours of my life. It won't matter when we're holding them in our arms, it's not like I'm gonna be doing this again."

"I'll be there with you all the way, I promise. I was a git last time, cracking jokes with Mo and your old man."

"I know you will. That's why I'm not afraid of it. I always told myself I'd never have more kids than I could cope with by myself. Two I think I could handle, but three … I know I couldn't do it. But I don't need to be able to because I know you won't abandon ship and leave me holding them."

"I'd have to be dragged away kicking and screaming. Sometimes I think I'll end up being too overprotective of these babies. I love them so much without even meeting them."

"It's normal, trust me. I felt it, even with Zoe. If I can feel that way after everything that happened, it's only natural for you to feel it too. I know this is what you've always wanted."

"Not a very bloke thing to do though is it?"

"You're not like any other bloke though, thank god. You know me; wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them. You're the only person I've trusted completely since I was thirteen. I couldn't even trust Nan or Dad properly after what happened, there was just something in my head that said that even family were bound to let you down when things got tough."

Alfie could feel his eyes begin to well up as it finally dawned upon him just how much of a risk Kat had taken in letting down her defences and allowing him into her life. It made him fall even further in love with her; and long ago he'd passed the point at which he'd believed he couldn't love her any more than he already did, even if he really tried.

"You should've seen the people I was friends with before I moved here. The things their blokes did, it was typical man stuff but horrific. They either disliked blood and refused full stop to go to the birth, or they were propping up bar stools until the poor cows were fully dilated, then they rolled up for the main event!"

"People do that?" He was slightly squeamish himself, but nothing in the world would keep him away. That didn't mean to say that such a graphic account wasn't over the top at breakfast time in particular, because it was. There had been several incidences over the past months of various male acquaintances telling him that he didn't know what he was letting himself in for. More than ever, especially armed with this latest information, he was convinced that they were the ones that hadn't known what was expected of them as a father and as a decent human being. Maybe his view was a little extreme, but was it not natural with his and Kat's combined histories? Everyone had something that they were passionate about; charity, art or climate change perhaps; it just so happened that his passion was in matters closer to the heart. He had long since resolved only to give serious consideration to advice originating from Ian. Not only was he a friend of some years, but he had been through much the same experiences, with Steven and then with his own set of twins. It was possible that others had only one objective in life, finding parts of other people's lives to entertain themselves with. Alfie Moon would waste his time on idle chit chat and unfounded opinions no longer.

"Oh yeah. From what I saw of it, they had the kids to keep their girlfriends happy, or because they wanted them to fulfil some fantasy of kicking a football around in the park. I hardly saw the poor cows once they had kids because they were left to do it all. I ain't always had no friends, you know. This is why it doesn't matter to me what age you are or whether you're prone to pulling the odd scam. With you everything is for the right reasons. You're the only man I would carry twins for. Bringing up twins would be tough at any age; you'll be fine, you'll be amazing."

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"Getting all doubting Thomas on you."

"You hardly did that. I didn't catch you packing your bags."

"Bet you never thought you'd be spending my birthday having to pick me up like this."

"It doesn't matter. You lean on me, I lean on you." Kat smiled encouragingly at her husband. "I'm the sorry one. I promise you, my past isn't going to take over again, I won't let it. I love this life too bloody much to throw it all away again; you, Tommy and these babies are everything to me."

"And you are to me. Forever?"

"Forever."

"Ey ey, you're getting a bit excited aren't you?" Kat remarked, in response to Alfie suddenly grabbing her and holding onto her so tightly that she wondered whether she might lose circulation in her arms. "I'm not about to be abducted by aliens you know," she joked.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me, you couldn't. I'm pregnant, not a porcelain doll."

"You are to me."

Kat smiled happily at his comment. "It's meant to be your birthday, not mine," she told him. It should've been her paying the compliments. "On that note, I've got something for you."

"You didn't have to get me anything. These babies are enough for the next twenty birthdays and Christmases," Alfie grinned. It seemed he'd barely stopped smiling since they'd found out about the twins, except for the obvious like the whole statement saga and Nicole rocking up. Having a baby of his very own with the woman he loved more than life itself was a massive deal for him, but there was something about it being twins that made it all the more special.

"It's not much, what with us needing to economise and all that."

"You hid it in the fridge?"

"You were never going to look in there, were you?" It was a rhetorical question. It wasn't as if even Alfie Moon would dare argue with eight years of tradition. "I always cook breakfast on your birthday."

"I can do it, just this year mind," he offered.

"I can cook eggs, I just can't eat them."

Alfie nodded, gratefully accepting the small cube shaped gift from her. Kat was a scary woman when riled. If Kat was happy to take care of the breakfast, the routine would continue without hiatus. She returned to her seat at his side as Alfie tore into the thin layer of wrapping. Soon he had taken in the item that was revealed to him and made his opinion known.

"I've got to say Mrs Moon, I am loving your presents lately. The babies for Christmas, now this," he beamed. "I wouldn't mind a birthday more often."

"Really?" Kat hadn't really known what he would make of it, but rather had been confident that he wouldn't want her making any extravagant purchases, like tickets for him and Tommy to go to a West Ham game. That she was sure he would love, but it was all about the bigger picture; making sacrifices now so that they had enough money to give their babies the best start in life.

"Really. It just goes to show that it doesn't matter how much or how little you spend on someone, it's the thought that goes into it that makes a present." Having studied the gift delightedly once more, Alfie proceeded to wield it in her direction.

"Oi you, don't be getting too cheeky. I said I'd make the breakfast, I didn't mean I'd be making you cups of tea on request," Kat responded playfully.

Alfie stared back at his wife with a guilty expression. "A cup of tea in my lovely new mug with my breakfast will be brilliant."

The sound of Kat's infectious giggle filled the room as Alfie continued to look on remorsefully. The last thing he had ever wanted was for her to feel that he was taking her for granted. That was when the rot set in and everything had broken down. He was determined for them not to revisit such an unhappy place. He knew her better than anyone else and that was why it fell to him to make her truly happy. He could cope with her past and the occasional nightmares that came with it; the fact that she had survived such harrowing events meant she had spirit and it was this spirit and character which made her so addictive to him. In turn, the fact that he could accept what had happened to her rather than burying it under the carpet meant that she didn't need to pretend to be someone that she wasn't; she could speak about it when she needed, instead of suffering in silence as she had done for the first eighteen years afterwards.

"I was joking, you great plonker!" She reassured her husband, her amusement at his expression finally subsiding. "It's your birthday, you can have anything you want," she added, while switching on the kettle.

At this, Alfie chuckled briefly at the way in which she had managed to fool him again. Life with Kat always threw up surprises, even if it was just little things like that. That was why they worked as a couple. It was no secret that he'd simply grown bored of his first marriage, turning instead to various scams.

"I thought I'd have to prize that West Ham mug out of your cold dead hands," Kat added, in reference to the now effectively redundant item of crockery, which had been replaced with something far more personal. Her gift to him had been a photo mug, with his favourite photo of Kat and Tommy printed onto one side and the latest scan picture of the twins on the other.

"No way," muttered Alfie. "You're so much more important to me than a football team. You four are all I've got." It was fair to say that Alfie and Spencer had grown apart over the years apart, with Spencer determined to build his own life for himself half way across the world. Like Kat and her sisters, contact between them hadn't been nearly as frequent as it should have been.

Kat was suddenly reminded of how glad she was that she'd taken to wearing waterproof mascara as a matter of course. "We're not going anywhere. I know we've said it more than once before but this really is forever now," she exclaimed, stepping closer to him, taking his hand and placing it gently on her expanding stomach. "We need you as much as you need us."

"I can't feel anything." Alfie looked on sadly, as if believing that he would always miss the moment.

Squeezing his hand in an attempt to raise his spirits, Kat simultaneously cursed herself for leading him to believe that there had been something to feel. "I felt a flutter early this morning but there's nothing you can feel just yet. The second they kick, I'll tell you."

Alfie nodded; he'd been reassured but still longed to feel their twins kick. His disappointment must have remained evident, as Kat spoke up again. "Hey, it won't be long, a couple of weeks and you'll be able to feel them. Then in a few months time they'll be so active you'll be sick of feeling it," she finished light-heartedly.

"Never. I love it all, even the little things like cutting up Tommy's food for him. I just... it doesn't seem real sometimes. I have to pinch myself," he admitted.

"I look like I've swallowed one of those space hopper things. It's real alright."

Seeing the tears forming in her husband's eyes, Kat rejoined him at the table, placing her hand on his back. "Hey, you're not supposed to cry on your birthday." Why was that? Was it unlucky? Had it originated as a method through which to cheer up the person whose birthday it was? Or was it more everyone else's way of trying to avoid misery? Kat simply recalled her father having used the line on her once.

"Sorry," muttered Alfie, trying rather unsuccessfully to stop his own tears with his thumb.

Kat took out a tissue, quickly drying Alfie's tears for him. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. Never, do you hear me?" She wasn't going to dwell on her failings if she could help it; what kind of birthday would he have if they went back there?

"I'm crying because I'm so happy," he told her.

She nodded, understanding that completely. She'd lost count of the times that she'd cried such tears of late. She'd cried them in the past too; her wedding day, when he'd come back for her and they'd left for America; but always knowing that something was missing, their children. Now the complete picture was bringing on the same, especially with her hormones. "I know," she whispered as she held him tight, kissing his hair as she waited for the moment to pass.

"So, what do you want to do today? Anything you like?"

"Anything?" He eyed her cheekily.

"Within reason. I'm not going on any country walks in my condition and I'm not going to any fish and chip bars because it'll probably make me puke; that's not because of Ian's cooking!"

Alfie laughed, loving the way she had again succeeded in turning an apparently mundane conversation into a joke. Nothing that involved Kat would ever be mundane, and he would never tire of her sense of humour.

"Scrap the breakfast, I've got a better idea," announced Alfie, tugging Kat's arm and pulling her out of her chair. "How about we go back to bed for a few hours, then we can pick Tommy up together and find a nice country pub somewhere for a bite to eat?"

"Let me have some toast first, I'm eating for three here you know," Kat objected, without exception to the other elements of his plan.

Alfie hurriedly made his way to the bread bin, removing three slices of bread and immediately throwing them into the toaster. It seemed he had taken the eating for three part literally, allocating one slice of toast per person. That fact accompanied by Alfie's general urge to usher her upstairs caused Kat to giggle to herself as she watched on. She couldn't remember either of them being happier than they were at that moment, awaiting the time that their longed for family would be complete and in honour of Alfie's birthday, not thinking about work or bills.