Okay, before this chapter gets going I've just got to say THANK YOU for all the wonderful reviews and reblogs. You might think it's sad but on Friday I was dead excited because I was so close to 300 reviews (which would be the most I've ever received for a story) and now a few days later I'm close to 350 and it's overwhelming how kind and supportive all your comments are. I can't tell you how valued it is.
So, that's it, thanks! Enjoy the Prom - and of course she's in her 2013 SAG Awards dress and Charles sexy in a tux ;-)
Chapter 18
Prom Night
Elsie opened the door to her flat to find Charles leaning against the banister rail at the top of the stairs, one leg crossed over the other, a red rose dangling loosely from his fingers.
"Well…" she said, deliberately elongating the word. "How suave you look."
"The name's Carson." He said with a clipped voice. "Charles Carson."
She bit back her laughter, "My Mr. Carson. And what can I do for you?"
"Oh, I think there's plenty you could do for me."
She laughed openly now, "Come in, you old fool."
"Less of the old."
He followed her into the flat, noting with pleasure the cardboard boxes already piling up in the hall – clearly she'd been packing.
"What time's the taxi?"
"About fifteen minutes – I hope I'm going to be able to get into it with the skirt on my dress – we want to make sure we're there before the students arrive, the big arrival in silly cars is all part of the fun."
He followed her into her bedroom, placing the rose on her pillow as she unwrapped her dress from the dry-cleaning packaging.
"Nice touch," she said, noting his actions.
"The art of seduction." He grinned, sitting on the bed. "Your hair looks good."
"It's pinned to within an inch of its life."
"Mine too." He said touching his head.
"Aren't you Mr Comedy tonight. Come, help me get into this thing." She unfastened the tie on her robe and he sucked in a tight breath then whistled – lacy underwear and stockings.
"So, hold on, let me just get a photo of this stage of the evening first." He said reaching into his pocket for his phone.
"Don't you dare!" She snatched her robe back together.
He chuckled, "Alright, alright. Let's get this dress on."
She held it in front of her and he took it from her, holding the skirt as she stepped into it and pulled the bodice up.
"Is it heavy? Can you walk?"
"It's alright actually." She said turning round so he could fasten her up at the back.
"Great turning circle," he couldn't help but kiss her back, bare as it was to him, before pulling up the zip.
"There." She turned to face him, swirling the skirt around her. "Pretty good right?"
"Pretty darn good. In fact I think you look good enough that I'll let you accompany me to the Prom tonight." He joked tightening his necktie. "What do you reckon?"
"Hmm… I might just accept the offer. Just some lipstick then we can go. Don't let me forget the quiz cards for the tables and confetti."
"Are we having a wedding too?"
"No, it's for Prom King and Queen."
"Bloody hell we're turning into America you know."
"The kids love it." She finished off her make-up – he'd never seen her with bright red lipstick before and it did something wicked to his stomach. "What?" She asked as she turned to face him.
"Nothing… just… you know, red lipstick and sexy underwear – I think I've decided on my birthday treat. Rather like the idea of letting your hair down later too."
"Maybe when we get home," she said pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "Let's go."
Almost immediately she tripped over the hem of her dress and he caught her arm before she smashed into the wall, "Careful Cinderella."
"Great start hey."
She tripped twice more between her bedroom and the taxi.
They used the back door into the hotel, and she led him through the plain, grey corridors to the main ballroom.
"You didn't tell me you were on the Prom committee." He said as he took in their surroundings – a grand hall, circular tables decorated with flowers and small bags of chocolates surrounded a fairly large, polished wooden dance floor.
"You never asked." She put her bags down on the top table, "This is ours. Should you get lost."
"Don't leave me alone."
Smiling she handed him a stack of cards, "Now, I need two sets on every table."
"Yes Miss."
"None of your cheek young man."
Chuckling he started to move around the room. The band was busy setting up and waiting staff were pouring non-alcoholic cocktails.
"Are we allowed to drink here?" He asked across the room.
"Of course, it's year 13 remember, most are over 18 now, so some will be drinking too no doubt. Oh, and I ordered beef for you, I figured you'd prefer that option to the fish."
"Correct. Starter?" He listened to her dress skim the dance floor as she crossed from one side to the other, the click of her heels upon its surface.
"Some cheese thing for you, soup for me."
"Dessert?"
"A wonderful sounding melting chocolate pot for you."
"Fabulous. Good choices Mrs. H."
"Honestly, you're worse than the children." She said as she reached him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Now, remember my head of department…"
"Phyllis."
"Well done. And try to avoid Mr dull and boring."
"Colin Spratt. I even remembered the Head is called Jack and will give a lengthy speech recycled from last year."
"You could pass for a member of staff."
The band started tuning up as they finished putting out the quiz cards and Charles had made it back to the top table, he put the leftover packs in Elsie's bag.
"Am I putting confetti out too?"
"Hell no, they'll throw that as soon as they sit down. We wait until it's crowning time after the meal."
"Military operation."
"Always is." She checked the final picture name card. "I think we're done."
He met her halfway across the dance floor. "Fancy a dance then Mrs H?" He said, his hands already sliding down her arms and to her waist, sliding deliciously across the silk of her skirt.
"Am I going to have to put up with this behaviour all night?"
"If you're lucky."
"Hmm, you keep misbehaving you won't be getting lucky." But she was already swaying with him to the music.
"We're not living together yet, we can still have fun."
She giggled, "I guess so."
The lights flashed a few times between darkness, bright white, red, purple and finally dimmed as the engineer played with them and circles of bright colours flashed across the dance floor around them.
"I'm thinking the music won't be this nice and relaxing all night." He noted.
"Probably not, this is the soothing background noise before the pound, pound, pound of later."
"I may escape outside at that point."
"Fair enough. There's a private bar we can use, you can escape in there if you need to. Did I say thanks for giving up your Wednesday evening for this?"
"Not quite yet but I guess I'm going to be rewarded." He kissed her forehead just as a short man with thick, grey hair and a beard strode into the room.
"My, my Elsie, this looks wonderful."
She reluctantly let go of Charles and turned to greet the Head teacher.
"Thank you Jack, not just me though, I think Sheena's been here for hours, she's gone upstairs to change."
"Well, credit to you both." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, "And you look lovely."
"Thank you. Jack this is Charles Carson."
"Very nice to meet you Charles," he said shaking his hand. "Nice to meet a friend of Elsie's, she's thought very highly of here you know by both staff and students."
"They're not the only ones."
"You're looking forward to the Prom?"
"My first experience of one so I'm not quite sure what to expect."
"A civilized meal on our table and raucous good fun down here. And lots of dancing…"
"…And screaming over dresses." Elsie added. "We better go out and find our place so we don't miss the grand entrances."
Positioned outside the hotel in the early evening sunshine Charles remained close to the building, saying hello to the staff Elsie introduced him to but generally keeping out of the way during the busy entrance; content to watch and sip on his wine.
It was interesting to see her in her work setting, she was less 'free' with her behaviour, more measured and 'correct' but she exuded confidence that was often lacking in other areas of her life. Clearly she loved every second of it and she was good at it and that made him feel proud.
The sunlight caught in her hair casting shades of amber and gold through it, and as she turned sideways she was laughing at something a colleague was saying and the earrings she wore swung and glistened. She was all peachy skin and smiling red lips and bright blue eyes and he felt overwhelmed with affection for her. There were moments like this when he still couldn't comprehend that she was his, or rather she was with him, choosing to be. He'd spent so many years admiring her from afar, nursing a silly crush, and searching elsewhere for some kind of meaningful something, ending up alone and content to be so because it seemed that whatever was out there it wasn't going to fulfil him.
Now he was. Finally.
When he got the opportunity he moved behind her and she instinctively tilted her head back towards him. "Alright?" She asked, genuinely concerned that he be at ease – she knew this wasn't his usual type of thing and she didn't want him to feel awkward or compelled to try and fill a role.
"More than." He allowed the fingertips of his right hand to gently graze her lower back as he whispered by her ear, "You look stunning. Absolutely stunning."
She smiled, lowering her eyes, turning her head just slightly to acknowledge what he'd said.
"Here we are," Phyllis said, interrupting them. "Jack's forked out for the fizzy stuff so let's dig in."
"Thank you," Elsie said taking one from him and holding her glass up to theirs. "Here's to a stress-free fun evening."
"Here, here!" Phyllis chimed in, knocking her glass against Elsie's. "Ooh, here they come. First of the stretch limos."
Charles turned his head to see the ugliest car he'd ever laid eyes on creep down the driveway towards the hotel, a rather putrid colour pink and silver alloys. What were people thinking?
It was the first of many such vehicles, though there was a fun old milk float and a fire engine which he rather enjoyed, all of them depositing youngsters dolled up like Hollywood stars.
They'd been standing there for well over forty-five minutes and still people arrived.
A group of girls ambled over, towering over her in heels and expensive dresses. Charles couldn't help but wonder how they made themselves that peculiar shade of orange.
"Mrs. Hughes! Mrs. Hughes! Can we have a picture?" A cloud of perfume seemed to follow them as they moved and he stepped out of the way, pressing himself against the wall of the building as they moved closer.
"Of course girls," she handed her glass to Charles. "You all look so gorgeous."
He watched how they positioned her in the middle, at least twelve of them gathering around, her the centre of attention – their affection for her palpable.
"That alright?" She asked after a few shots had been taken.
"Thanks Miss, the necklace looks great by the way."
"Thank you, and the earrings too, see." She smiled, touching them as she returned to retrieve her Champagne from Charles.
"I take it they got them for you."
"They did indeed, a class gift. It's nice, to know they're grateful."
"And rich."
"Well, their parents are."
The last of the students had arrived and were dawdling inside and some of the staff were hurrying them in.
"Looks like dinner's about to start, shall we go get our seats?"
"Yes. I'm starving."
She glanced up at him and rolled her eyes, he always was!
"And the award for most likely to be Prime Minister is… Niamh Sherwood."
There was a round of applause and a few cheers as a smart girl got up and crossed the floor to accept her award.
"Who's this woman doing this?" Charles whispered by Elsie's ear, hidden by the dim light in the room.
"Head of Year 13, her name's Anne. She's from France."
"Thought she had an accent." He fiddled with the wine bottle on the table, easing the cork out and refilling both of their glasses.
"What do you do then Charles?" A man sat on his other side asked, holding his glass out, P.E. teacher apparently, name of Jeremy.
"I own a bookstore in town, having it renovated at the moment." He said, replacing the cork in the bottle.
"Don't worry, I'll be advertising it around school come the grand re-opening." Elsie said, squeezing his wrist.
"Teacher awards!" Phyllis exclaimed, banging her hands on the table.
They laughed and clapped as the Head got up to receive the award for best beard.
"Let's have a drink every time one of us wins." Jeremy said raising his glass.
"We do have to work tomorrow." Spratt pointed out and Elsie rolled her eyes and deliberately took a sip of her wine just as a teacher from the next table got up to collect an award. "It's only an inset." She said.
"How does this work then?" Charles asked, genuinely interested.
"Well, we have these categories for the students and the staff vote for them. So then the kids wanted to do the same, so they created categories for the staff and voted for us."
"Right, got it. Do we get dessert after this?"
She twisted her head to look at him and laughed, "Yes, we do."
"Just checking." He shrugged.
"And the award for the kindest, most caring teacher goes to… who else… Mrs Hughes!"
The students clapped and stamped their feet and she was sure she heard a few wolf whistles as she got up and made her way across the dance floor (praying she didn't trip on the skirt). She took a gracious bow, accepted her award from the girl handing them out and a kiss to each cheek from the young man assisting.
"Yay!" She said waving it as she returned to the table. "Something for the mantelpiece."
"If nothing else exciting happens in your life Elsie you know you've got that." Jeremy teased.
"Oh absolutely, my absolute proudest moment, this might even rival Anna's graduation this year."
Charles rested his hand discreetly on her back, stroking down her spine with his thumb. The awards seemed to be coming to an end and waiting staff were starting to serve dessert and coffee.
He glanced at his watch, 9:09. They were running a bit late but not by much.
She turned her head close to his, "I'm going to hand the confetti out, we'll be doing the big crowning thing next then we're free if you want." She said.
"It's fine, I'm enjoying it. And congratulations."
"Thank you very much." She preened.
"You want a hand?"
"No it's fine, Sheena's going to help."
She got up, leaning on his shoulder and then disappearing to deliver the small boxes.
From what he could recall Sheena was the Food Technology teacher, or she could have been I.C.T and Debbie Food. He couldn't keep them all straight in his head. One thing he did remember though was that Lisa from the next table was regarded as persona non grata after trying it on with the German teacher, who happened to be married to the Deputy Head. The entire staff knew, so Elsie had told him, and there'd been quite an awkward few months where rather risqué emails had been discovered. She looked nice enough to him but he never could read people.
"So, how long have you known Elsie then?" Phyllis asked, taking advantage of Elsie's free chair and moving along.
"Oh, erm, a long time, seventeen years, about that. She used the shop and we got talking."
"Oh right…" Phyllis seemed to think on it then her eyes widened, "Oh!"
"Oh, no, nothing untoward happened. Not until last August, I knew she was married before that. We just passed the time of day."
"I didn't mean that." Phyllis blushed, Charles thought she looked a bit sozzled, the way she was swaying in her chair and waving her glass of red wine about – he was growing concerned for his shirt.
"Elsie's not that type," she said. "And Joe wasn't the type to allow it neither."
Mention of her ex-husband hit him square in the chest but he carried on as if nothing had been said.
"And how long have you worked together?" He asked, trying his best to keep the conversation going – Elsie had done the same at his 'do' he wasn't going to let her down.
After dinner and the final awards the disco started and a few of the staff disappeared into the private bar – Charles joining them. He'd tried to take Elsie with him but some of the students had dragged her onto the dance floor and the last he saw of her she was having pictures taken.
He got himself a brandy and collapsed into the leather chesterfield sofa, exhaling as he swallowed the first taste of the alcohol.
"Mind if I join you?" Spratt asked, taking the free seat beside him.
"Be my guest." Charles said.
"Not my scene all this banging music."
"Nor mine. I want something I can actually dance to."
"Here, here." He tapped his glass against Charles'.
With two brandies under his belt Charles couldn't understand why Elsie didn't get on with Spratt, it was clear he had a great deal of time for her (Charles was even tempted to go as far as to say he had a bit of a crush) and he was a knowledgeable and refined gentleman. A man after his own heart, who liked the finer things in life and knew his way around a library.
After spending a good hour or so in his company he excused himself to visit the men's room. Only he got lost on the way and ended up going out of the fire exit – catching a couple of students up against a wall – before turning around and taking the corridor to the left in search of lavatories.
"Spratt's such an old man though." The voice of a young woman said, and he stopped, paused, he didn't want to walk into gossip. He leant against the wall, suddenly feeling his chocolate dessert making a reappearance, it was hot in there.
"Yes, but the stupid thing is he's only in his forties. He looks like he's in his sixties, all that tweed and brown, at work every day at 7:00 on the dot. Get a life!"
Definitely not students talking, he could tell they were older and he thought he smelt cigarette smoke.
"Hey, don't forget Elsie's there at that time too and nothing wrong with her, decent lady."
"She is. What's with the guy she's with though? Now he's definitely in his sixties, no wonder he's been with Spratt all night."
They chuckled then the second voice said, "He seems nice enough though, and he's tall, I like tall men."
"Yeah but her first husband was hot!"
"Left her didn't he, for a younger woman?"
"Men are such bastards."
"Totally." He heard them moving, one of them stubbing out their cigarette on a plate. "Well, at least this new one won't be wandering."
"I should hope not, she doesn't deserve it. And he doesn't look the type to be putting it about."
"If he's anything like Spratt he won't know where to put it!"
He turned quickly, finding his way back to the fire exit and outside into the cool night air, past the snogging students and around to the front of the hotel. For a moment he felt disorientated and he found a low wall to sit on as he caught his breath.
He kept telling himself they weren't talking about him, it was Spratt they were insulting and he'd heard Elsie say similar things about him – not as vicious but similar. But that didn't take away the sting; they thought him old and Elsie having settled. And he was angry with them for having discussed her in such a way, when they didn't know the truth of the matter.
Of course he knew he was being irrational. People gossiped all the time. He himself did. But he was annoyed that overhearing such a conversation from two silly, young teachers had ruined a perfectly pleasant evening.
He looked at his watch, 11:25, and decided to fetch Elsie and go home. He needed to lie down.
She was chatting animatedly to other staff and students at the edge of the dance floor and he came up behind her – how beautiful she looked, how vivacious – and rested his hand on her back.
She turned to face him, reaching to squeeze his arm, a genuine look of pleasure on her face at the sight of him, "Hi, I was wondering where you were."
"Got talking to Spratt in the bar."
"Oh," she rolled her eyes. "Are you okay, you look tired?"
"Getting that way."
"Alright." She turned his arm to look at his watch, "It is getting late, I have to be up tomorrow. Do you want to call for a taxi and I'll say goodnight?"
"Sure, I'll wait in the foyer."
He waved his goodbyes to people before heading back outside.
In the back of the taxi she leant her head against his shoulder, holding onto his arm as she was lulled to sleep by the movement of the car. He woke her as they reached her flat, paid the driver and held her up as they approached the door.
"I have a card," she said, searching in her handbag and retrieving a plastic card which she swiped before typing in a code.
"These modern doors," he said. "What's wrong with just a key?"
"Mmm," she was yawning as they took the stairs up and he knew within half-an-hour she'd be asleep.
Upstairs she put the kettle on and followed him into the bedroom, waiting as he unzipped her and easing herself out of the dress.
"Oh, it feels good to take it off." She said. "I need to wash my face, get a cup of tea and have a lie down."
"I'll get the tea," he said, feeling rather stunted, muted by what he'd overheard.
"Thank you honey, you're wonderful." She patted his chest, kissed his mouth. "And thank you for coming, you were so lovely and patient with it all."
He smiled, "Hey, I was the partner of an award winner, happy just to be on your arm."
She was humming in the bathroom as she removed her make-up; she almost unpinned her hair then remembered Charles' request so left it up. The rose was still on her pillow and she picked it up and breathed in its scent before lying it on her dressing table and getting into bed.
Charles' ears were ringing from the volume of the disco and he wondered how much damage had been caused. He couldn't recall the music being that loud when he was young but logically it must have been.
Carrying the tea into the bedroom he set the cups on the set of drawers by the bed and started to undress. Elsie had her eyes closed and was laid back on piled up pillows.
"Shame we didn't get to dance more." She said lethargically.
"Yes. Waste of a great dress."
"Maybe I can put it on one Saturday and we can sway around your lounge." She said and he's almost forgotten she was moving in soon, that by next Wednesday they would be in his flat permanently.
A thought suddenly occurred to him and he stopped short of sitting on the bed, "I am staying over, aren't I?"
"Of course you are," she chuckled, sitting up and touching his bare back. "Silly question."
She pulled the duvet back for him and he got in, cupping his tea and watching silently as she sat forward and pulled out her hairpins. Each lock fell in a slightly twisted curl down her back and he thought of tangling his fingers into it, curling it around his hand, savouring the warmth and perfume of it. But he no longer felt in that mood, as foolish as he knew he was being, it wasn't her fault but he didn't particularly feel like letting this evening go on for any longer.
"I'm tired," she said, climbing out of bed and depositing the pile of pins on the dresser.
"Me too."
"What a lovely night though, I'm so glad they all enjoyed it." She climbed back in, sipped her tea. "And I have to get up tomorrow…" she complained, setting her alarm.
Switching his lamp off Charles settled down in the bed, staring up at the flawless white ceiling above him. His ceiling wasn't flawless, there were cracks in it and it was yellowing over the window where the sunlight had been on it – must be a good ten years since his ceiling had benefitted from a fresh coat of paint.
She turned her lamp off, sending the room into darkness and flattened her pillows down.
"Are you alright all the way over there?" She asked, observing the substantial gap between them in the bed.
"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Sorry, just flopped down where I was sat."
Smiling she shuffled across the bed, finding his mouth with hers and kissing him deeply, lovingly. "You're a wonderful man Charles Carson. I'd give you an award for that."
And then she laid down, her head against his chest; her arm across his stomach, and within minutes was asleep.
It took Charles rather longer to stop his mind from whirring.
When the alarm went Elsie couldn't have felt less like getting up. She was lying on her back with her hand covering her phone to switch off the bleeping and Charles was curled against her, this giant of a man with his head nestled against her chest.
She lay quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the weight of him against her, the enjoyment of not waking alone. The early morning sunshine was peeking in through the gap in the curtains and she felt happy.
Today was an inset day, so no need for her to be in too early, and then she had just over a week of freedom in which to move into Charles' flat. Then one last stretch and summer, and weeks of being with him, helping in his shop, the trip to Italy… she was actually rather excited about the future, and she hadn't been able to say that in years.
Easing out from beneath him she tiptoed to the bathroom to shower, leaving him asleep in her bed.
When she emerged with damp hair and only her underwear on she didn't even notice the bed was empty, she was so used to it being that way. She had put on her jeans and face-cream before it hit her.
"Charles?" She asked, padding barefoot down the hallway to the kitchen. "What are you doing?" She asked amused at the sight on him in his boxers and an open shirt.
"Well, I hope you're not going in like that. Put a top on at least Mrs Hughes. I know it's an informal day but this might be a step too far." He teased, noting her jeans and bra.
She shook her head, repeating. "What are you doing?'
"Making you breakfast."
She smiled, "Nobody ever gets me breakfast, I go to Costa on the way in to work, that's my routine."
"Well, Costa won't be on your route when you're going from my place." He said, handing her a mug of tea.
"That's very true, I guess it's time for a new routine."
He nodded, "Go finish getting ready, won't be long."
When she re-emerged from the bedroom there were pancakes on a plate and a few strawberries beside them and he was sitting at one end of the table cradling a cup of tea.
"How lovely," she said, taking a seat. "But you didn't have to get up Charles, it's very early." She glanced at the clock on the oven, 7:05. "You look tired, you should go back to bed."
"I'm okay, I'm up now."
"Are you sure you're alright?" she said in between bites. "You were quiet when we got in last night."
He rubbed his face, "Maybe I am just tired."
She polished off the last strawberry and got to her feet, putting her plate in the sink.
"I'll do that."
Smiling she slid her hands over his shoulders, resting her chin on top of his head. "You're like the perfect house guest." She kissed his hair, "Thank you for breakfast, it was lovely. Now go back to bed, I don't mind, just don't go fiddling around in my knicker drawer when you're alone in the flat.
Despite his low mood he laughed at that. "Promise." He said, forming the scout's three-fingered salute.
"Will I see you later?" She asked, kissing his cheek.
"I'm not sure, I've got to get back to the shop, do some work."
"I could come to you, I don't like the idea of sleeping without you now."
He felt his chest tighten, "Don't you need to pack?"
She smiled against his skin, "Oh yes, that little thing." She kissed his cheek again. "And I have to get going or I'll get stuck in traffic and be late." She stood up, collecting her bag from the floor. "I'll call you later and we can sort something out."
"Alright."
"Go sleep." She said as she walked out the door.
Oh, poor Charles. I do love him so! Please leave me a little message if you feel so inclined :-) x