In which Charles and Elsie share each other's lives and we get to spend a lot of time with the wonderful Beryl!

Quite a lot of dialogue in this one, hope you don't mind! Also apologies for any typos - back at work now so (unfortunately) having to fit writing in around it - it sucks! x R

Chapter 12

Meetings

Beryl Mason was something of a matriarch. She'd had three children of her own (three strapping Yorkshire lads), adopted one (the still meek and tiny Daisy) and offered a foster home to countless others over the years. And that was how she'd met Elsie Hughes.

Elsie was the History teacher at the local comp and the only member of staff that Peter, one of Beryl's foster boys, hadn't played up for. He liked her because she was honest and she was fair, if you misbehaved you were punished, if you were good you were rewarded. She taught you well, she made you laugh and you knew beyond a doubt that she was on your side.

Beryl and Elsie had been friends ever since. Peter was now twenty and a trainee for the Post Office in the Pensions Department. Beryl couldn't have been prouder.

Wednesday night came and Elsie was stuck in traffic on her way to meet her friend for dinner, or 'tea', as Beryl liked to call it. For the third time since she'd left the school car park she pressed speed dial on her phone, tapping her steering wheel as it continuously rang. She wanted to speak to Charles before she got into the pub otherwise she might miss him later; she wasn't sure what time she'd get back – Beryl was a bit of a talker.

It had quickly become something of a 'thing' that they spoke every day, even if only for five minutes. She was gradually starting to come out of the dark cloud of last Friday – her 'meltdown moment', as Anna had called it when she'd rung her Sunday afternoon and told her bits about what had happened. And as much as she knew there were still things she had to deal with it felt good to leave them be for the moment and just enjoy being alive.

By the time she reached the pub Charles still hadn't answered so she tucked her phone in her bag and went inside. Beryl had a bottle of wine waiting and a million questions.

"You look tired, is he keeping you up all night?" Was her opening one.

"Hi to you too," Elsie said, shrugging off her coat and kissing her friend's cheek. "And in answer to your rather nosey question – I'm tired because I've spent the last three nights marking, it's that time of year." She took a sip of wine, "Coursework deadlines and exams looming. As you very well know with Kit going through it all."

"Don't get me started on her, she's had an argument with every member of that mental household this past weekend, in fact I think I might move into your flash pad if you don't mind, leave my grubby abode behind. Lover boy won't mind will he, if I'm in the armchair watching Corrie whilst you're making out on the couch."

Elsie rolled her eyes, "Stop calling him that."

"Sorry," Beryl cleared her throat and said very grandly, "Charles."

Ignoring her Elsie scanned the menu, "I'm having salad, my stomach's getting big and I need it to be flat on Sunday."

"You are kidding me, there's nothing on ya. And why does it need to be flat?"

She folded the menu and slipped her glasses off, "Because I'm joining him at the cricket and I want to look nice."

Beryl laughed, "Get away with you! You hate sports. You only watched the Olympics for that cute swimmer guy. What's his name again… erm…"

"Mark Foster," Elsie said with a grin, "So gorgeous. What a voice."

"Not a bad body neither."

They giggled together like school children.

"So, which team you watching?"

"His team, Charles' team."

"He plays? Is he any good? Is he hunky?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Why haven't I even seen a picture of him? Come on, sort it out."

"Ohh, look…" she searched in her bag for her phone. "Don't start with me, I'm 'sorting' it, slowly but surely."

"How's it going anyhow?"

She'd finally told Beryl everything over coffee early Sunday evening, ringing her and asking her if she was free to come over for a chat. She even went in to the gory details over what happened with Joe, she needed to talk to somebody else and not just burden Charles with it all.

They'd cried together when she'd recounted what had happened with her parents and then eaten the chocolate cake Beryl had brought over and watched 'Vera'. The more she spoke about it though, the more it seemed to be lifting from her sub-conscious, and she'd had no dreams since.

She scanned through her phone, finding one of him from their holiday, sun-kissed in a white shirt standing on the beach.

"There, is that alright now?"

Beryl nodded her head, "Not bad, not bad. Very tall, good arms. Strong legs I bet too."

"Oh, stop it." Elsie grabbed her phone back.

"Hey, I want to see more pictures, the holiday shots, you've been holding out on me."

"I've been busy… and, well, you know."

"Miserable, dramatic, having a meltdown?"

"I love that you're so supportive. Are we going to order, I'm hungry?"

"For a salad?!"

"Well, what are you having?"

"Fish and chips."

"I can't have that."

"We always have that here because it's the best here."

"I know, but…"

"Surely, if he's put up with your flabby stomach for the past nine months it's not going to bother him now."

"Hey, it's not flabby!" Elsie said, slapping Beryl's arm and subconsciously shifting her top to cover any bumps. "Alright, I'll have the same. I'm not worried about Charles anyhow, I just want to look nice at this thing for him."

"Aren't you little Miss Homemaker?"

"It's a big step, I've held out on him for so long and made it so difficult for him."

"Try 'hard-to-get times a billion'."

"I know, don't make me feel even more guilty."

"Still apologising?"

"Not really, he's been wonderful – tentative but wonderful. And I feel like I should…"

"Drop the guilt Elsie, you carried that shit for too long with Joe." Of course Beryl blamed Joe, she always blamed him. It wasn't quite so clear-cut to Elsie.

"I'm not, it isn't like that. I'm trying to be more give and take."

"But you don't do anything as boring as play cricket!"

"Ha! Very funny."

"I take that back, you do visit a lot of museums."

"Well lucky for me he likes to do that too."

"Quite the pair. So you're nervous about meeting these folks, are they snobs?"

"I don't know I've never met them before. But they're his friends and it's important to him so…"

"So, you need a flat stomach!"

"I have children at school all day to mock me you know."

"Ha! Well, just wear some of those big pants, you know, Bridget Jones style, suck it in. Unless you're afraid it'll turn him off when he's trying to have his wicked with you later in the day. Nothing worse than a limp dick at the crucial moment."

"Ah, Beryl! Lower your voice, people might hear. We're abstaining anyhow."

"What? For how long?!"

"I don't know, until we feel we don't have to anymore. I agree with it, we need to focus on the emotional side of our relationship not the physical."

"You do get drawn into some deep shit," Beryl said taking a gulp of wine. "What happened to the good old days where you liked someone, you jumped their bones, you got married, had babies and spent your life in perpetual misery?"

"Well, let's drink to that shall we." Elsie laughed and they clinked glasses.

She swallowed quickly as her phone rang and Beryl watched the smile that crossed her face, the softening of her eyes as she answered. "Hello."

"Hi, sorry I missed you. I was in the bath reading."

"It's only early."

"There was more dust on me than in the Sahara."

"Oh dear, how's it gone today?"

"You know, two steps forward, three back. Some issues with the plumbing, going to cost more, as expected."

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be done. Where are you? Come over."

"I can't. I'm out with Beryl."

"Hi Charles!" Beryl called over the phone.

"He says hi back," Elsie said.

"I'll leave you to it."

"Okay, I'll text later if you're still up."

"I'm sure I will be. Have a good night."

"Thank you honey, bye." She put the phone down and noted Beryl's face. "What?"

"You called him 'honey'." She chuckled.

"I did not."

"You definitely did, you said 'honey'."

Elsie blushed, covering her mouth, "I did, didn't I."

Beryl was still laughing, "It's kinda cute."

"I don't know why I said that."

"Because he's sweet to you?"

"He is."

"Has he used the 'L' word again yet?"

"No, he hasn't. I think I've scared him off that for life."

"Somehow I doubt that, you just wait, if you're abstaining for months the first time he comes again he'll be screaming it."

"Beryl! For god's sake, you're worse than I am!" Elsie said glancing around to check nobody had heard.

"I speak the truth," she refilled their glasses. "Got quite an impressive nose hasn't he Charles… big feet too…?"

"Don't you dare even go there!"

Beryl chuckled wickedly.

"I'm going to order, my turn to pay I think." Elsie said getting up. It wasn't her turn to pay, it was Beryl's, she'd paid for the last two meals they'd had out but Beryl baked for a local farmshop and Bill drove a JCB for the council so they were hardly rolling in it, especially with six children in the house.

She got in just after ten after dropping Beryl home and texted, "Just got in, sorry if I woke you. x E."

He rang her immediately back. "I was still awake." He said yawning. "Watching the news."

"I'm sorry, I interrupted."

"I'd rather talk to you than listen to all this guff about the election. How was dinner?"

"Good, funny. She never fails to make me laugh. I need to have a shower."

"Can you talk to me in there?"

She laughed, "No, not in the cubicle. I could have a quick bath instead."

"Do that."

He listened as she moved about, turning on the bath taps and going to her bedroom to undress, he imagined her changing and was glad he was lying down.

"So, the plumbing?"

"I need different pipes or something. I may have to take you up on the offer of a bed if they have to rip it all out. I could be without water for a while."

"That's fine." She padded naked back to the bathroom and slipped into the water, propping the phone on a chair in the corner before she did so. "Oh, that feels good."

His throat suddenly felt very dry.

"She wants to know when she can meet you." Elsie said. "So I thought we'd have dinner one night, if that's okay with you."

"Sure, when?"

"I don't know, I wanted to ask you before I arranged anything."

"Any time's fine, apart from next Tuesday, my book group."

"Where are you going to host it with the shop closed?"

"My lounge I think. Those bloody women in my home."

She chuckled, "Take them to a coffee shop, or a pub."

"That's an idea."

"I feel our relationship is suddenly out in the public domain." She said, her voice changing.

"And does that bother you?"

"No, I suppose it just feels a little fast… which is ridiculous when you consider how long we've actually been 'together'." She sighed, rubbed her hand across her face and watched the water sway around her body. He remained silent, waiting for her to continue her train of thought. "Ignore me, I'm being ridiculous."

"But I'm glad you're telling me."

"I want you to myself every now and then." She pouted.

He laughed, "I'm sure I will be. You okay for Sunday?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll drive myself shall I?"

"If that's okay, Richard usually picks me up."

"It's fine, and I haven't forgotten you promised me Sunday lunch after."

"I know, I haven't forgotten neither."

"I've got to wash my hair and get to bed."

"Okay, I'll leave you to it."

"Speak to you tomorrow."

"Yes." He yawned again.

"Goodnight Charles." She said sitting up and reaching for the shampoo.

"Yes, goodnight…honey." He smirked before putting down the phone.

"What do you wear to watch a cricket match?" Elsie asked, standing in front of her wardrobe talking to Beryl on speakerphone.

"Oh bloody hell, some of those fake glasses so you can go to sleep and nobody know."

"That's not helpful."

"It's 8:15 on a Sunday morning, I'm barely coherent and you demand fashion advice. How would I know, I've never been to one."

"Do you think it's foolish to google it? I googled the rules last night, I have no idea what it means, I have a print off for my bag so I can keep checking."

"Christ, is he gonna quiz you?"

"No, of course not, but I want to try."

She rattled through things in her wardrobe, taking out dresses, holding them to her, then returning them to the hanger.

"What were you doing home and googling on a Saturday night? Why weren't you out?"

"Charles was meeting his friend, Richard, to go see some sci-fi film."

"He didn't ask you to go?"

"Why should he? We aren't joined at the hip. I was fine. He's fine."

"Yes, yes, everything's going fine – I get it."

"Just not rushing anything, that's all."

She decided on loose linen trousers, then she'd be safe if she had to sit on the grass – at least in May the grass was likely to be dry but she'd pack a blanket in the car just in case.

"What's all the racket?" She asked as thumping came down the other side of the phone.

"Just my hundreds of kids causing havoc."

When people met Beryl they thought her loud and uncouth, she had a mouth on her that was for sure and a certain turn of phrase, but she was the kindest, warmest soul Elsie knew, and she respected her. The fact she'd been fostering children for years, way before Elsie met her, and she still was, was amazing to Elsie. There was no way she could even consider having a child around again at her age and Beryl was three years older.

She could hear Bill yelling in the background and chuckled, "You sound busy, I should leave you to it."

"Let him handle it for a while, you found an outfit?"

"Think so."

"So when do I get to meet lover boy then? Did you ask him?"

"Yes, he said any time. I thought I might cook one night, a Friday would be best I suppose."

"What about lunch today?"

"He's playing cricket, remember."

"All day?"

"Well, I don't know how long these things last." She tipped over her jewellery box searching through for something suitable. "He did say we'd have lunch after. There's a pub nearby he likes."

"Text me the name and we'll come meet you."

Elsie bit her lip, "What about the kids?"

"I'll make them a pie and leave them to it. Text me a roundabout time too," there was a crash and scream in the background, "Shit, gotta go, see you later. Hope he wins."

"Okay, but I have to…" The phone goes dead, "…ask Charles." She finishes.

She pulls on a beige tunic and oversized beads. Then stands and stares at herself in the mirror – too much? Too little? She doesn't want to show him up. If it gets cold her nipples might stick out in the top – she swaps it, pulls a light blue floral one on instead. And it's sunny out so she finds her sunglasses and adds a small locket. She's just about to leave it as it is when she remembers the extravagant earrings she bought herself for her 50th – Vivenne Westwood, a dangly statement. She adds them for flamboyance, "Don't want his friends to think I'm dull." She says to herself.

The straighteners bleep at her and she sits in front of her vanity and starts to tame the kinks in her hair, pulling it round and beneath her chin. For some reason she feels like she's having a first date again, or meeting someone's parents.

A quick coat of pink lipstick and lots of mascara and she's ready.

She got stuck in traffic on the way to the cricket club, then the sat-nav froze and by the time she got there she was frantic it would have started and he'd be upset that she hadn't come.

But when she pulled into the car park she spotted him taking things from the boot of a car and she pulled alongside him, he raised his hand in a wave as she parked.

"Am I alright to park here?" She asked, opening her door.

"Of course." She turned off the engine, got out and pulled her handbag from the passenger seat, stumbling a little on the gravel as she went to greet him. "Shouldn't have worn heels, I wasn't sure…"

"Hi," he said touching her arm, putting her at ease, and leaning in to kiss her.

"Hi," she went to kiss his cheek, he went to kiss her mouth, and they ended up with a rather odd face kiss and nose bump. "Oh god," she said glancing to the floor, "I hope nobody saw that."

His hand slid up to squeeze her upper arm and he stepped closer whispering, "You know they've been watching you since the moment you pulled in so of course they all saw that."

She looked up at him and chuckled, "Great first impression."

"Mm, I found it endearing." And this time he kissed her properly, happy they were all watching. "You look wonderful," he said. "You ready?"

She nodded, glad of his gentle, supportive ways. "I like you in all this white." She said as they set off across the car park. "Very Richard Gere."

"How so?

"An Officer and a Gentleman, with Debra Winger, you've never seen it?"

"Afraid not."

"Goodness, we'll have to fix that. Only you're like a cricketer and a gentleman."

He laughed, "We will. Maybe later today. I want to warn you some of these people are downright snobs and some of the wives come here just to bitch and gossip."

"Got it."

They were almost at the steps, "You understand the rules yet?"

"Not in the slightest," she said through a false smile.

"Good morning," a lady said very brightly to her, grasping her hand as she reached the top step. "So wonderful to finally meet Charles' friend."

Elsie hung on to the word 'finally', "So very nice to be met, were you worried he was making me up?"

Charles chuckled; she'd be just fine.

He'd told her it wasn't a full match. Just playing to keep in shape, for practise, so it wouldn't be all day.

But after three hours of sitting on a hard bench nursing a lemonade Elsie's backside hurt and her back ached and she wasn't sure she'd ever make it through a full match. And hardly anyone had spoken to her. It was like being the new girl at school.

She was hungry. She'd been too nervous to eat that morning and now regretted it. Getting up from her seat she clambered back up through the benches and to the bar area. There was an ice bucket on the side and she added more to her glass and dug her hand into the bowl of peanuts.

Sighing she went back outside but stood leaning against the building, she couldn't face the benches again, staring down at where men hit balls with pieces of wood. If she hadn't earned his affection back after this then she never would.

"Having fun?"

She glanced up to find a pretty woman looking at her.

"Mm, I don't think 'fun' is quite the word." She said honestly.

The lady stuck out her hand with a friendly grin, "I'm Isobel Crawley."

Elsie shook her hand, "Richard's wife, Charles has mentioned you. Elsie Hughes."

"It's so good to meet you Elsie, you know he's been a changed man since he met you."

"Has he?" She turned back to the game, scanning the green for Charles.

"Very much so, not that he's spoken about you to the group or anything, but to my husband."

"Which one is your husband? I haven't been introduced yet."

"Umpire today, there, see." She grasped Elsie's arm startling her, "I can't tell you how happy we are he's finally met someone, we were worried he was destined to spend his life alone and he deserves so much more."

Elsie felt her chest tighten; she bit her lip and counted to ten in a bid to stay calm. She mustn't 'freak out' at such statements but enjoy them – that was what Beryl had said.

"Thank you for talking to me," Elsie said, "I've felt a little 'out-of-it', I must admit."

Isobel nodded, "It can be hard coming here, a lot of the members have been here all their lives and are stuck in their ways and don't forget you're the enemy now."

She almost choked on her lemonade. "Am I?"

"Of course, he has a lot of admirers."

"Aren't they all wives here?"

Isobel laughed, "Is that what he told you? No, we have our fair share of husband seekers."

"Oh, really! No, funnily enough he's never mentioned that. Has he ever dated any of them?"

"Not that I know of, though he's very private. Violet was quite formidable and I think she was a little controlling with him as a child, Richard said he was terrified when he went over to their house for tea."

"I knew Violet."

"Oh yes, from the shop, he said you were a customer."

"Yes, for a long time, over fifteen years."

"And he only asked you out last year? Even by Charles' standards that's a bit excessive."

Elsie giggled, "No, I was married. He was perfectly gentlemanly."

"I'd expect nothing less."

Elsie agreed and looked back down to the game finding three women looking up at her. She smiled back at them but whispered to Isobel, "I think I've spotted some of the husband seekers, either that or they're mocking the fact I'm under-dressed. I thought I might have to sit on grass, I think I'm the only female in trousers."

"Don't worry, you look lovely." She squeezed her arm, "They'll get used to you, but I can tell you that the brunette on the left, Laura, she's been after Charles for years."

Elsie's eyes widened at this statement, how had Charles never mentioned he had a fan club?

"He tells me you'll be joining our little games night next weekend."

"I am, if that's alright with you of course."

"Oh but of course it is, it will be lovely to see the two of you there together. He so often attends every one of our events alone, or tries to call off, we've seen the occasional date over the years but nothing lasting."

Elsie was suddenly intrigued by these so-called 'other dates', Charles made out he was virtually a monk, and she knew that couldn't be true (going on how he performed in the bedroom) but still, she wondered why he'd never mentioned past relationships.

There was a round of applause and Isobel nudged her, "Clap."

So she did. "Is that it?"

"Yes, we can have a drink and natter whilst they change. Are you doing anything this afternoon?"

She looked at her watch, "He promised to take me for lunch."

"That'll be nice, we have the grandkids around so no peace. You'll have to come over one night for dinner."

"That's very kind of you."

They wandered inside and soon the players started to filter in; Elsie remained in a quiet spot near the glass doors making the most of the sunshine. He'd changed into a light grey suit and scanned the room for her; spotting her quickly he crossed immediately to where she stood.

"Hello," she said, as he got close.

"Hello, it wasn't too bad, not too bored?"

She twisted her mouth, "Mmm, I think I'd like it more if I understood it all. And didn't have certain women fixing me a death glare."

"Oh dear, I did say."

She deliberately rested her hand on his arm, leaning towards his body.

"Yes, but you conveniently forgot to mention that some of them were hoping to marry you."

"Oh, erm, apparently so." He coughed, caught off guard. "Isobel been chatting has she?"

She nodded, "Apparently I am now viewed as 'the enemy', which is rather amusing don't you think."

He chuckled, "I quite like the idea of being fought over."

"I'm sure you do." She rested her hand on his chest.

"Are you flirting with me Elsie?"

"For their benefit, not yours."

He laughed. "So, you were talking to Isobel…"

"She's lovely."

"So are you," he leant forward and kissed her lightly, just enough, "Good enough show?"

"I think so."

"Good, let's mingle for half-an-hour then go have a late lunch, I'm starving." He put his arm around her and led her through the club.

She had the distinct impression of being shown off but it was rather nice to feel that a man wanted to do that and, more than that, she felt Charles had probably never done it before.

"This is Elsie Hughes," became a well-repeated phrase as they moved from group to group. And she smiled happily, and listened to their game chat as if she knew what it all meant. At one point she looked up to catch their reflection in a long mirror across the back wall and thought how good they looked together. She'd fit neatly right under his arm – she chuckled and the group of five men (including Charles) all glanced at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding up her hand, "I was thinking of something else."

Charles shook his head ruefully at her and she shrugged, rosy cheeked.

They got separated at one point and a kindly-faced gentleman with a moustache touched her arm as she returned her empty glass to the bar, "Elsie?"

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'm Richard." He leant in and kissed her cheeks. "And I'm so very glad to meet you. When Charles told me he was dating a fellow scot I was overjoyed, finally someone with sense in his life."

"Oh it's so wonderful to meet you too. I have to admit Charles never mentioned that part, I had no idea you were Scottish. You travelled to Italy with him for the year didn't you?"

"God yes, nineteen and green as the moors we were. Lived in some god awful rental place and existed on cheap pasta and handouts. Violet hated it, rang him everyday for the first month to get him to come home."

Elsie was smiling, "I can imagine that. So, it's you I go to for dirt on him then?"

"Absolutely, though it's Charles we're talking about, I could probably fill about a plant pot and that's it. Where is the old rascal anyhow, abandoning a pretty girl like you?"

"We got separated," she scanned the room. "He was talking to a young man, Simon? And his wife started asking me about schools in the area and then he'd disappeared."

"Simon's new to the club, his wife is settling in too. You'll get on with her." She wasn't quite sure how she felt about being made 'part of a club' just yet but she'd vowed to give it a go and that meant more than one match.

She felt Richard's hand on her upper back, "There he is." He said, turning her to spot him.

He was hard to miss really, so tall he towered over most of the others. He had his back to her but was clearly chatting quite animatedly to a rather large-breasted brunette. The same brunette who had bestowed Elsie with such a spiteful look during the game. In Elsie's opinion she wore far too much foundation.

She all but marched over, smiling sweetly and resting her hand on Charles' back as she got to him.

"I wondered where you'd gone." She said and he turned to her as he sipped his wine, drawing his free arm around her back, his other hand dug in his pocket.

"Elsie, this is Laura. Her father was our top player here and her Grandmother patron – you've even got your Grandmother's name, haven't you?"

"As my middle name, Ethel is a little old-fashioned I think now." She held out her hand to Elsie, "Very nice to meet you."

Elsie took hold of her hand and the younger woman gripped hers and politely shook it – she had long, fake nails and Elsie's seemed rather natural and misshapen in return. "Nice to meet you too," she said.

"How have you enjoyed the day?" Laura asked.

"Well, it's my first ever cricket match so I still feel it's a bit of a mystery."

"Some people do find it hard to learn the rules…" Laura said.

"I've told her, there's no need to worry about all that, few games she'll have it." Charles stated, completely missing Laura's barb.

"How do you feel about Richie dying then? Terribly sad."

"One of the greats," Charles added.

"I heard his family turned down a state funeral."

"Yes, I read that too, can't say I blame them…"

Elsie did her best to follow their conversation but really she wasn't part of it and she knew exactly what the woman was doing. That was fine. She had no reason to be jealous, she trusted Charles completely but she didn't like rude people.

"We should get going shouldn't we?" He finally said, squeezing her to his side. "I've put you through this for too long."

"Nonsense, it's fine." She smiled up at him, "I'm fine." She said gently.

"Nice to meet you then Elsie." Laura said, "Hopefully we'll see you here again."

"Thank you, it was lovely to meet everyone here too."

They headed to the door, waving to Richard and Isobel as they left, "See you next week," Isobel mouthed.

Charles was whistling as they approached her car, dumping his cricket bag in the boot and sliding into the passenger seat – he pushed the seat as far back as it would go and hooked up his seatbelt.

Then he noticed Elsie sat forward staring at him, a most peculiar look on her face.

"What?" He asked.

"So, this Laura…?" She said forthrightly. "How old is she?"

"Erm, 42 I think. Around that."

"Then why on earth are you slumming it with a 51 year old when you could be having someone ten years younger with considerably bigger breasts."

"Does she have bigger breasts?"

Elsie rolled her eyes, "You know she does, men like big breasts."

"I like your breasts."

"Hmm…"

"Elsie, are you jealous?"

"Do you want me to be jealous?"

"That's not what I asked."

"Well, it's not what I asked neither."

He shook his head, he hated these kind of half-understood conversations, "I'm confused… are you jealous or not?"

"Why does it matter if I am?"

"Because you seem upset and more than that my self-esteem would be through the roof."

"Oh, well then!" She pouted, folding her arms and staring out of the window.

"Elspeth…"

"Don't call me that."

He smiled but quickly hid it, "Elsie, darling, are you just the tiniest bit jealous?"

She bridled, "Maybe a smidge, but only because she's younger and knows more about cricket. Hard to learn the bloody rules." She mimicked. "Next time we go I'm going to know everything about the sodding game."

He couldn't help but laugh at her, she was formidable when angry.

"And don't laugh, you damn well wanted me jealous, I know you spoke to her on purpose."

He shrugged, "Coincidence."

"Un-bloody-likely."

"I like it. I feel flattered."

"Whatever. Making out you're some monk-like character when those women… Have you ever dated any of them?"

'Yes. One."

"Not the breast girl!"

"No." He sucked in a tight breath, "Isobel."

Her wide-eyed expression and open-mouth was startled when someone knocked on Charles' car window and he rolled it down.

"Everything okay?"

Laura. And her sickening smile.

"Fine, just deciding where to have lunch."

"Oooh, you know I love Van Zeller." She chirped. "See you next week." And she slid into her sleek black BMW and roared off.

"Yes we're fine…" Elsie chimed as she watched her, her voice adopting a sing-song, sarcastic tone. "Now fuck off."

"Elsie!"

"Well, she couldn't be more obvious if she took her top off and said have me I'm cheap." She turned the key in the ignition and put on her seatbelt. "Privileged and spoilt but still cheap. And don't think the conversation regarding Isobel is over neither."

"Right."

He knew better than to rile her further when she was in a temperamental mood.

"And Beryl and Bill are joining us for lunch which should be a right bloody laugh because it's almost 3 and they'll have stopped serving roast chicken!"

He thought it best to keep his joke about breast meat to himself.

"What the hell's going on?" Beryl asked as she and Elsie stood at the bar ordering.

"Nothing. I'm driving so can't drink, I'll have one small glass of wine."

"I didn't mean that. You looked fuming when you came in. Was the cricket bad?"

"No, it was fine, just…" she tutted. "I'm being childish, I know I am. It's silly." She waved her hand. "Forget it. Where's the damned bar tender?"

"You can't just say that and not tell me more. It' like a moth to a flame. It wasn't what you expected?"

"No, it was, you know older, retired types and people with money. Nice enough bunch most of them, most of the players were nice to me and everyone seemed ecstatic to see Charles with a woman – which was bloody ridiculous really because it seems there's no end of women after him there that I just haven't been told about."

Beryl sniggered, "You're damn well jealous."

Elsie rolled her eyes, leaning across the bar to try and signal a bar tender. "Might as well serve myself." She complained.

"I've never seen you jealous."

"I am not."

"You are, I can't believe it, all those years Joe was screwing about and not once did you get jealous."

"Don't bring that up." Elsie was frustrated, drumming her fingers on the top of the bar.

"Making a point though." Beryl stopped her hand. "Look, I'll mind my own business and all but don't be harsh on the guy, he's starting to look worried."

Else glanced over her shoulder at Charles, who was clearly doing his best to join in Bill's conversation without taking his eyes off of her.

"Oh, I'm such a bitch." She groaned, sliding a hand through her hair. "Just that woman really riled me, I felt judged by her, as if I wasn't good enough for him."

"From the way he looks at you I'd say you don't have any issues with that. Are you going again?"

"I will, of course I will, its part of his life. And there's a party next Saturday hosted by some of his friends so a lot of them will be there."

"So don't be jealous. Make her jealous."

"You should be an agony aunt."

"I bloody well am love. Oi," she called down the bar, "can we get a drink here or what?"

Elsie slid into the booth next to Charles, placing his beer in front of him and sliding her hand down onto his thigh to give it a squeeze in apology.

"Alright?" he whispered.

"Yes. Just needed to vent and regain my sanity." She clinked her glass against his. "So, I didn't understand the part of the game when…"

"…Don't you dare." Beryl interrupted sitting across from them. "I did not starve myself all day to come and listen to you two talk cricket." She took a gulp of wine. "Now, Charlie, this here is my oldest, dearest friend so I absolutely need to know everything about you."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Right from birth, David Copperfield style?''

Elsie giggled.

"Yeah, probably gonna be alright this one Elsie." Beryl smiled.

Many hours later the foursome had managed to laugh their way through a late roast dinner, a bottle of wine, a few beers, treacle sponge and custard and several cups of tea before they left the pub. The sun was going down as they made their way across the car park and Elsie twirled her car keys on her finger, feeling slightly happier than when she arrived.

"I'll sort that book out for you tomorrow," Charles said to Bill shaking his hand. "If you like thrillers you'll love it, it's underrated but a great quick read."

"Can you get it in extra large font," Beryl teased. "He's blind as a bat most of the time."

"Says you. Take her glasses off she'd kiss any guy thinking he's me."

"That's what I tell him," Beryl smirked as she leant up to kiss Charles' cheek – he had to bend a considerable way it seemed for her to reach him. She squeezed his arms. "Thanks for taking care of her."

"Glad I've got your seal of approval, it's important…"

"So, I'll cook next time. Get a taxi so you don't have to drive." Elsie said. "And we can have more than one glass of wine." She squeezed Beryl's hand.

"Got it. Two weeks on Friday," Bill said hugging Elsie. "Nice to see you looking happy love."

They parted, waved goodbye and watched them drive off.

Elsie huffed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes, "I'm exhausted."

"Me too. Usually I go to bed on a Sunday afternoon after cricket and have a nap."

"Oh, you should have said, I wouldn't have organised this. I'm sorry."

"Not to worry, I'll sleep well tonight."

She reached over and squeezed his arm, "We go months keeping this under wraps and then two highly charged meet and greets in one day."

"I feel like a celebrity." He sucked his tongue. "Sorry about the Laura thing."

She turned to fully face him now, "Oh, god no, I'm sorry. I was completely out-of-line and overreacting and just… childish and silly."

He smiled, "Can I just enjoy the moment though, you were a little jealous."

She bit her lip, "Try a lot jealous. She's a very pretty woman."

He leant forward, "And you're a very beautiful woman and I'm very much in love with you."

"Charles…" she found her cheeks were flushing as she slid her hands over his shoulders and kissed him. It soon deepened, their tongues caressing the other's, hands wandering, their breathing deepening.

"Mmm," she mumbled against his lips, "Not here."

He pressed his forehead to hers, his hand rubbing circles on her back, "Not yet." He said, his tone a little regretful.

She nodded, they parted and she started the engine.

"I think you should tell me about Isobel though, as I drive you home. You dated?"

"Yes, when we were younger, I was about 21, 22, something like that."

"Then how…?"

"Richard met her, obviously whilst she was with me, and fell in love with her and the rest is history."

She shook her head, "No it isn't." Why did men always make things seem so straightforward? "How… I mean, weren't you angry? Why is he still your best friend?"

"At the time I was devastated, thought she was the love of my life but I was only a kid and full of hormones, desperate to get laid."

She rolled her eyes.

"I know now that it wasn't love." He reached to rest his hand on hers on top of the gear stick.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this beforehand."

"I didn't realise you'd want all the gossip."

"It's not gossip, it's your life."

"Which you've very much been a part of today."

"How different our friends are." She pointed out.

"I like Beryl and Bill. They're down to earth and fun."

"I like Isobel and Richard. They're well-spoken and friendly."

He chuckled. "Well, that's good then."

"Very good."

Well, how nice was it to have bit of fun with them?! I'd pay Phyllis and Lesley out of my own money to film the opening bar scene :-) Let me know what you think, your reviews are a joy to read! x