Sorry for the delay in this chapter - marking exam papers!

And I'm going classic old-school on my music choice with no shame :-)

I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when I'm older

In my life there's been heartache and pain
I don't know if I can face it again
Can't stop now, I've travelled so far
To change this lonely life

Chapter 19

Strange Saturday

Sat in amidst a pile of old magazines and forgotten Birthday cards Elsie sighed heavily. Why did she keep such rubbish? Making a determined decision she got up, found an empty plastic box and tipped the entire lot in for recycling. If she hadn't looked at them in so many years she'd forgotten they were there then she certainly wouldn't miss them.

"Can we stop, hurting each other? Gotta stop, hurting each other. Making each other cry, breaking each other's hearts, tearing each other apart…" She sang along with the music, leaning over where her laptop rested on the dining table and upping the volume.

She heard the door to the apartment bang and shouted, "You're late. Twenty minutes late."

He followed the sound of her voice, found her kneeling on the floor packing CDs into a box.

"Twenty two minutes exactly." He said, standing by the door watching her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, over the top of her glasses. "I'll forgive you, but only because I like you rather a lot."

He smiled, "Thanks."

"Now come kiss me, and let's start shipping some of this stuff."

He bent over, his hand on her shoulder, and kissed her gently.

"Mmm, hello." She said, tipping her face up to his. "I've missed you, you left me on my own Thursday AND Friday night."

"I know," he plonked himself on the sofa, "And I'm sorry, I couldn't get out of things."

She didn't appreciate the vague excuses but figured she'd leave it be – if he was feeling nervous about living with her she couldn't deny him a couple of extra nights on his own to prepare.

"I've organised things into stuff I will definitely need and things that can go into the storage unit, once we find one. Then things for the rubbish and things for charity."

"That's some list to get through in one Saturday."

"No, silly, I have all week to do this. As long as today we get my main things to your flat then I'll be happy."

"Is this the Carpenters?" He asked, distracted by the volume of the music.

"It is indeed, I forgot I had it so put the CD on. It's sort of therapeutic doing this you know," she said, taping up another box. "When I sold the house I just packed everything and moved it from one place to another. It's good to just clear out now."

She pushed herself up from the floor, "God, that's bad for my knees." She bent to pick the box up and groaned when she stood, "And my back."

Charles got up from the sofa, taking the box from her, "Which pile is this one for?"

"Your place, see, I labelled it." He glanced to where she'd scribbled CC on the lid of the box. "Are you alright?" She said, tilting her head to one side to watch him, slipping her glasses off.

"Yeah, sorry."

She smiled. "I'm not too scary to live with you know."

He shook his head, "I am."

She laughed, "Well, we'll see how I go shall we." She kissed his cheek before going to pack another box.

Charles stood in his lounge staring at the piles of boxes surrounding him – CC, CC, CC on the top of every one. How could a person have so much stuff?

"Where are we going to sit?" He called out.

"What?" She shouted back from the bedroom.

"I said," he shouted again, but then she was walking in and he softened his voice, "where are we going to sit?"

She glanced at the sofa laden with her clothes. "Oh dear, they'll be gone before tonight. I do have wardrobe space?"

"Well, yes. I emptied the one in the spare room and there's a few drawers free in my room… I'll show you." He clambered over the boxes, and she followed, doing her best to ignore the 'my room' comment. In time they'd get used to this, it was just transition.

"Here," he opened three drawers up. "Will that be okay?"

"Sure," she was glancing around the room, the space where his bed had been had left a lighter patch on the carpet, the dark curtains shrouded the room in a gloomy, dusty light – how had she never noticed that before? She was probably more focussed on other things than the shade of his curtains.

"What's wrong?" He asked, feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, just…" she was at the bedroom window, pulling back the curtains, lifting the blind. "It's spring out here Charles, almost summer, if there were lighter curtains the room might feel…" She turned back to look at him, dropping the curtains. "I'm sorry. I've just been terribly rude."

"No, that's fine, I mean it's your place too now so I suppose re-decorating…" he shrugged. "You can change them if you like, I don't mind."

"Are you sure? I have some at home that might fit." She was biting on her lip as she tried to mentally measure the width, she knew she had cream ones, and a matching bedspread and then the room would be bright and welcoming.

There was a crash downstairs and they both jumped, "Bloody builders!" He complained. "They're only fitting bookshelves, they better not have scratched the wall."

"You go, I'm fine here, I'll carry on unpacking and then when you come back there may be space for you to sit."

"I don't want to leave it all to you."

"Really, I'm fine. I'll drive back one last time for today and get a few more things and then focus on sorting what's here."

Another crash downstairs and he grimaced.

"Go, it's fine, I'm fine."

If she were honest she was glad to be rid of him, he'd been rather muted all day – he'd lived alone for a very long time so she could understand his nerves. She figured it better to just leave him be and hope he'd come out of it. She'd try to make him something good for dinner and make up for not seeing him for several nights. How odd it was that in just a few months she'd gone from doing her best to resist her feelings for him to now letting them wash over her, letting them grow and flourish.

An hour later she'd made another trip to her own flat, it was looking sparse but she felt no qualms about leaving it – as much as she'd enjoyed having her own space and finding her independence she felt more excited about the next step.

On the drive back she called into the coffee shop Charles had taken her to the previous Sunday and bought sandwiches and cake and taken them back with her.

It meant the builders were grateful and agreed to fetch her bed over before they finished for the day and she took Charles' sandwich into what was now the café area of the shop. He was fiddling with the new coffee machine, reading the instructions and focussing intently on which buttons to press. He looked rather endearing with his glasses slipping down his nose.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the counter. "I brought you some lunch." She placed the sandwich in front of him. "Your favourite."

"Thanks." He replied, hardly looking up. "Cheese and onion?"

"Of course. You and the machine getting on well?"

"Sort of."

"George has agreed to use his van and fetch over the bed."

"That's nice of him."

"Otherwise we won't have anything to sleep on."

"The floor." He said, pressing the grind button and smiling when it did what he wanted. "Gotcha!"

"I'm going to finish unpacking then."

"Al-right…." he murmured, opening the top of the machine.

"Well, you two play nice."

Standing in the middle of what he now regarded as his 'new shop' Charles actually felt a tingle of pride. It looked good. Clean lines yet still cosy. Organised and modern but still welcoming. George had done a good job and he really didn't resent paying him for the extra days here and there to get it done right.

Before him stood row upon row of empty shelves… and box upon box of books ready to be organised. He clapped his hands together. The builders were gone and now it was all his. All he needed was to advertise for a shop assistant – just for a few days at first to see how he got on, if custom increased, if the coffee shop proved popular. He was dying to try out his Lemon Cake on the customers! Just coffee and cake at first, maybe scones, and then he'd see how things went.

Yes, he was excited about it all.

He turned towards where his old radio was on top of the counter and found Elsie staring at him holding a picture.

"Hi," he said. "Did the bed fit okay?"

"Yes, it's fine, I've changed the curtains and done the bedding. I was hanging some clothes up and searching for somewhere to stack jumpers and I found this laid on the top shelf of the wardrobe."

She turned the frame for him to see and he felt his cheeks redden and quickly brushed a hand through his hair, "Yes, I forgot I'd put that up there."

"This is from our holiday, right?"

"It is, I had it printed when we got back. The day you sent me that email."

"Oh…"

"And I didn't know what to do with it, so I put it up there."

She stepped towards him, "And, can I come out of the wardrobe now?"

He smiled, "Yes, I think so."

"Good." She handed him the picture, "Though maybe we should print one of us together, the one from Richard's party perhaps, it would seem odd to have just me. We can use the frame."

"Nonsense, this one can go on my bedside table."

She was about to lean in and kiss him when he strode past her, putting the picture down on the counter. "Going to get my radio set up and start organising these books." He said.

"Okay, it's after four you know."

"I know, time enough, it's Saturday."

"I'm going to make something for dinner, my first night here, I thought it might be nice."

There was a scratching sound as he fiddled with the dial on the radio and she went over and placed her hand over his, gently moving it until the sound of Radio 4 filled the room.

"Thanks."

"You can get a digital radio you know, in fact if you want we could use your ipad, fit speakers up stairs and down and then you can have relaxing music in the background when you want to create an ambience – book group nights, talks, things like that."

"I might…" He had returned to his books, beginning to take out piles of them and place them in stacks on the floor.

"Well, I've almost finished up there for today so then I'll run to M&S and pick something up. Any requests?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay." With a slightly heavier heart than she'd started the day with she headed back upstairs, hoping his moping mood would improve soon enough.

Charles had just about got the first shelf sorted when the bell atop of the shop door rang and Thomas came in.

"Well Charlie boy, look at this fancy place!" He chimed.

"Now's not a great time Thomas," Charles pointed out as the younger man strode into the shop.

"Hey, this is coming together, you'll be open next week won't you?"

"Should be, aiming to be."

"In all honesty it looks great mate, a real improvement."

Charles was genuinely surprised by his positivity. "Thanks, do you need money?"

"Just being nice."

"You're in a strangely nice mood. What's happened…?"

Thomas was about to respond when Elsie came down the stairs carrying two black bags of clothes and Charles rushed to take them from her as she banged into the wall.

"Sorry, these won't fit anywhere so I'm going to take them back to my place for the moment."

"Well, hello. Finally." Thomas said, coming across to her. "So you're the famous Elsie."

"I suppose I must be."

"I've got to thank you for rescuing my man here, I was concerned he was going to end up spending a lifetime alone in doom and gloom, dribbling onto a brown tweed jacket whilst watching Countdown."

Elsie laughed, "What a disturbing image."

Thomas held his hand out and Elsie reached to shake it, "In fact screw that, come here, lets hug it out."

She liked his exuberance and returned the hug with as much diva theatrics as he gave it.

They were both laughing and Charles watched them in an oddly detached way.

"Look at him," he said pointing to Charles. "He's a changed man."

"Oh, shut up." Charles said, hoisting the bags up again. "Where do you want these?"

"That's what sex can do for you!"

"Thomas!" Charles exclaimed dropping the bags again but Elsie was laughing.

"I think we're going to get on."

"I think so too," Thomas said, looping his arm through hers and they both stared at Charles. "Now you have two people to annoy you with their modern pop ways!" Thomas teased.

"Elsie, meet my friend Thomas – he shows up every now and then for food and to fill me with horror at his love life."

"Ah well, turn up in that department." Thomas boasted.

"Don't tell me there's already a new one," Charles complained.

"Not new at all. Jimmy – oh Jimmy of the tight ass and killer eyes – has relented and I am back where I belong i.e. His bed."

"Lord above, didn't this kid break your heart?"

"Who's Jimmy?" Elsie asked.

"Some boy leading him on," Charles moaned.

"I'll have you know he's my boyfriend now, look," he whipped his phone out to show Elsie a picture.

"Oh he's very attractive." She admitted. "Maybe we could have you round for dinner one night."

"Not tonight!" Charles snapped before Thomas could speak.

"Oh but mate…"

"Not tonight Thomas. She's only just moved in."

"And not even completed that." She added softly.

"Well, it's nice to know you're here should things get excitable on radio 4 and he have a heart attack."

"Is this pick on Charles day! Come on Thomas out, it's getting late and I want to finish this."

"He's always this charming to me you know, it's a wonder I still bother with the old coot."

Charles caught his breath, slamming books onto a shelf and Elsie jumped at the action. Thomas didn't appear to notice and she pressed her hand to his back as she saw him out.

"I wonder if you might help me put these in my car," she said indicating the bags.

"But of course." He lifted them up.

"I won't be long Charles." She said, but he already had his back to them and had returned to his task.

"So very nice to meet you at last," Elsie said as she walked with Thomas to her car. "And you really must come over, Charles has agreed to move his reading chair so we can have a dining table. You could be our first guests."

"That's nice of you," he dropped the bags of clothes into the boot of her car. "Not many offers of that kind come my way – I'm a bit loud you see, got a bit of a bitchy reputation at work!" he grinned.

"Never!" She exclaimed, acting scandalized.

"I'm not sure why Charlie puts up with me."

"Because you're nice to him." She squeezed the younger man's arm. "I'll call you, once he's happy his books are right. Maybe one night next week?"

"Would be lovely. Nice to meet you Elsie." He said, as she got into her car.

"And you."

Thomas lit up another cigarette and headed on his way. Saturday night – date night!

Dinner was a bit of a let down. First she'd misunderstood the instructions on the box, then she'd had trouble working Charles' oven and as a result things had taken rather a long time to cook – the chicken was dry, the roasted vegetables a bit mushy.

"This is the worst meal I've cooked in years." She said as they sat at the small table in his kitchen. "We'd have been better off ordering take-away."

"It's alright. I'm not too hungry." He refilled his wine glass – already on his third she noted – and drank a sip between every forkful of food.

"You want to watch a movie maybe?" She asked. "I'd suggest going to the pub but I'm so tired and achy and feel a bit grubby."

He thought she looked great, nothing but casual jeans and a jumper all day, her hair pinned on top of her head like she wore it on holiday – relaxed and easy. "No, a movie's fine. I want to try and do another hour downstairs first anyhow."

It's already 20:13, she thought glancing at the clock on the oven.

"Okay, well, I might take a bath if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. It's yours too."

She nodded, pushing her plate aside. She didn't really feel so hungry.

"And tomorrow? Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

He shrugged, finishing up his meal. "You wanted the reading room emptied so I guess I'll do that. I've sorted through the majority of mum's stuff from the attic now so there's space up there."

"You don't have to rush," she said gently. "I'm not expecting it done immediately. I don't expect anything. There's still my flat to keep things in anyhow, whilst Anna's using it."

"Did you discuss that with her?"

"I did. Once she's back up here she's going to look for something for herself, just a small one bed thing but then I'll relinquish my lease and empty it."

"Alright."

His chair scraped along the floor as he pushed back from the table, "Better get on."

"Enjoy." She stared at their dishes on the table, she'd be clearing those first then. He'd taken his wine with him, she noted as she wearily filled the sink.

By the time Elsie had forced herself to get out of the bath and changed into her nightwear it was after ten and she was beginning to wonder what Charles was up to. In fact frustration was replacing worry.

Turning off the light in the en-suite she headed into what was now their bedroom and found he was already in bed, propped up on his pillows reading.

"You look comfy," she said, surprised to see him.

"I am."

His lack of conversation wasn't exactly surprising considering how he'd been all day. She couldn't escape the feeling she'd done something wrong, upset him in some way, or – even more worryingly – that he actually didn't want this at all. That he'd made a snap decision the other night in bed and now regretted it and didn't know how to say so.

She stood by the wardrobe with her clothes hanging over her arm searching for a spare hanger.

"Something wrong?"

"No, just looking for a hanger… I'll just double up," she said, draping her jeans over another pair of trousers.

"I think I have spares somewhere."

"That's fine, I can look tomorrow. Going to get some water." She said, heading into the kitchen.

When she returned he'd turned his lamp off and was lying down, his eyes closed. 'Great', she thought, 'so much for making up for those nights apart.'

She climbed in beside him, for a few seconds waiting for him to say something, or touch her, but when he didn't she turned off the lamp beside her sending the room into black.

Try as she might she couldn't get comfy – and it was her bed! She plumped her pillows and tugged on the sheets then lay and listened to his breathing, to the ticking of the clock, to the creaks the building made, to the sounds of distant Saturday night parties coming to an end, people trailing home. Sometimes it was easy to forget they were in the centre of town.

"Have you changed your mind?" She said, her voice cracking through the darkness.

"What?" He mumbled into his pillow, head throbbing, ears buzzing.

"I said, have you changed your mind?"

He lifted his chin from the pillow, "About what?"

She made a hollow sound in her throat – not a laugh, not a groan, caught in-between. "My moving in." She stared up at the ceiling. "Italy. Us."

He remained silent, staring across the floor to where her shoes were lined up waiting to find a place to be stored.

"Charles." She prompted, frustration creeping in.

"Why would I?"

"Because you've hardly spoken to me all day. Because you've been snappy and distant and because you're lying next to me now like I'm a stranger." She swallowed uncomfortably, she had that tight feeling in her throat that meant she was going to cry and she really didn't want to, she'd cried enough with Joe, she didn't want it with Charles. "Because it's a bit bloody late if you have changed your mind Charles, now I'm here."

"I haven't." He mumbled.

She rolled her eyes, fidgeted with the sheets, "How overwhelmingly convincing you sound."

"What do you want me to say?"

"What I want is for you to explain to me what's going on, I feel like I'm in the dark here. Like I've done something to upset you or make you angry and I don't know what that is." She stared at the back of his head, perfectly still, reached to touch his shoulder. "Charles. Talk to me. This isn't exactly how I imagined spending my first night in my new home."

It wasn't how he'd imagined it neither, a far way from that.

"Charles!" She snapped, frustrated. "Honestly, imagine if this were the other way around and you'd moved into my place today only to have the person you're meant to be living with speak less than fifty words to you all day."

She was right. He was being cruel and there was no need, it wasn't her fault, it was just that what he'd heard had somehow rooted around in his brain for days now. Bedding in and filling him with doubt.

With effort he finally turned and flopped onto his back beside her, his arms folded atop of the sheets. It was much lighter in the room with her change of curtains and bed sheets and he liked it, it was like being in a new room, not the one he'd slept in alone for far too many years.

"So, have I upset you? Because I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how or why. Is it because I came in and started making changes? Because you assured me it was okay otherwise I would never have…"

"No of course it's not that, I like what you've done."

She licked her lips, turned in the bed to lie on her side and look at him. "That means it's something though, tell me," she reached to rest a hand on his chest. "You were the one who said we need to talk things through, share everything. And I've been trying so very hard to be more open with you Charles, after last time…"

He closed his eyes momentarily, he knew that, he knew how hard she was trying, how they'd both been trying, to share, to communicate.

"Something was said…at the Prom."

Her brow furrowed, "The prom?"

"Yeah." He sighed, "It's silly, childish, just like students having a gossip about their teachers only it was two teachers, two women."

She shifted again, leaning on her elbow in order to watch him better. "I don't understand. What was said?"

"They were mocking Spratt, you know, and I overheard. Only I got dragged into it – they joked he looks sixty and he's got no life because he's at work at the crack of dawn and that you are too, but for some reason that's fine because you're nice."

She frowned, "I still don't understand…"

"They questioned what you were doing with an old man like me… somebody who was just as dull as Spratt." His words rushed out and for a moment she lay still as she absorbed it, then she groaned in disappointment and slid her hand farther over his chest, forcing him to unfold his arms.

"Oh Charles…"

"They said Joe was 'hot'."

At that she bit back a sharp breath. What did he have to do with anything?

"Clearly I'm not and perhaps I don't even know what to do in the bedroom!" He tried to laugh but it didn't come, he'd let this stew in him for too many days now and it had grown and festered. He should have told her immediately so they would have laughed about it and moved on.

"Well, it shows how stupid they are doesn't it." She lifted herself up, moving on top of his body, forcing him to hold her, to look at her. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. It was childish and cruel. But I didn't say it; Charles, and you've been horrid to me all day. I felt like I was intruding."

"It fed into my insecurities I suppose. That I'm not good enough, that you'll get bored."

"We've been through this."

"Yes, we have. But you grow in confidence and independence every day. You're blossoming Elsie, you seem so much freer and happier and comfortable." His hands were on her upper arms, her bare skin warm and soft, despite himself he couldn't help but touch her, hold her.

"And you don't think that has anything to do with the love and support I'm getting from you?"

He shrugged, "Or because you're free of him. And moving farther and farther away from who you were with him."

She swallowed, her body sagging against his. She could feel his foot rubbing hers, the sensation of his legs against her thighs.

"Charles. I'm with you because I choose to be. And yes maybe I am more relaxed and more confident but that's down to how confident I feel that whatever I do, whatever mistakes I might make – and believe me I will, I'll come home and you'll be there. And I've never had that grounding before."

He reached to touch her hair, "I don't want you to look back and think you escaped an unhappy marriage only to settle with some dull old fool who knows nothing about relationships or making women happy."

"I'm not listening if you're going to put yourself down because you're being ridiculous."

"I don't mean to. I'm not usually an insecure man, I figure things are what they are. But the reality is…" He looked squarely at her, forcing himself to hold her gaze. "The reality is Els if you were seeing a counsellor right now they'd tell you to back the hell away from a new relationship until you were absolutely certain that you were settled. That you had dealt with all you've got to deal with."

"Are you trying to break up with me? Because it's a bit of a fucked up moment to do it." She could feel her cheeks reddening, her chest too.

"No, I'm not doing that."

"Then I'm confused. How has this all come from some silly women gossiping about things they don't know anything about? Charles," she held his face, "they don't know what's between us. They don't know me, only the work version of me, you've seen all sides now and you're still here and I'm overwhelmed by that. By you. They don't know us. They don't know how I feel."

"I don't know how you bloody well feel!" He snapped.

For a second they were silent and then he moaned in frustration and regret as she rolled off of him and turned on her side, her body curling forward.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his face.

"You said you'd be patient."

"I think I have been, haven't I?"

"Oh, so that's it. Time's up Elsie, make your decision now." She snapped over her shoulder.

"I'm not saying that."

He couldn't quite decide if he was being ridiculous or not. She showed him a hundred different ways how much she cared for him, how close they were now, how settled. Just because she couldn't utter one lousy word it didn't change things, not really.

Elsie's nails were digging into the palm of her hand; it would be so easy to just give him what he needed to hear. But she was determined that when she did finally make that last step, that commitment to him, she would be without doubt. She was getting there, but something still niggled, something still held her back. And why couldn't he just wait? Why couldn't he have left it? Just for a while longer.

"If you were unhappy with how things were going you should have said before I packed up all my bloody belongings and shipped my life over here to join with yours." She twisted her neck, craning to look at him, "Because that's what I thought we were trying to do, build a life together. With all the mess and stress and loveliness that it entails."

"Elspeth," he breathed, drawn to her, his arms around her, tugging her body back against his. "That is what I want. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

She covered his hands with hers, her heart thumping in her chest, uncertainty present but beginning to ebb. "I just want to…" She swallowed, how could she possibly make him understand the myriad of emotions she was still going through, the questions she had, the doubts all intermingled with the joy of slowly discovering this with him. She didn't realise it could be this way or that she'd ever be part of a relationship like this.

Squirming in his arms she turned, and he kissed her forehead, held her tight as she moved to rest her head on his chest.

"Joe rarely accompanied me to work things." She said, determined to share something with him, to share more of her past, to help him understand.

"The first time was a Christmas party, my second full year of teaching. And it was a wonderful night I thought, the meal was good not great, the music was fun, I was circulating and chatting and getting know more people. Then a colleague at the time, someone who had been my mentor during my first year there, pointed out how Joe was having a good time – and he was, drunk, twirling some woman around the dance floor, hands everywhere. And I felt so embarrassed. So angry. When we got home I didn't confront him about it – he was so drunk he fell asleep on the sofa and I left him there. But in the morning I did, because yes I was jealous, he was my husband and I felt jealous and embarrassed by him. And somehow…" she laughed hollowly at herself, no smile on her face, "Somehow it became me who'd done it. He was jealous of me because I was flirting with every man in that room, touching their arms or laughing at their jokes."

She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Charles, feeling his hand warm and heavy on her back. "Anna had gone to a friend's to sleep, we were alone in the house and suddenly he got angry, I mean not just arguing angry but really angry and he was holding my wrists and pressing me back against the kitchen wall and telling me that I belonged to him. That no man had the right to look at me or touch me because I was his, and that he loved me so much it drove him crazy to think of another man seeing me. That was love. His hand rough up my skirt, bending me over the kitchen table."

She could feel Charles' heart thudding beneath her cheek, his barely concealed disgust and anger.

"And I remember I kept saying no, because I knew it was wrong, I knew I didn't want that – I turned my feelings off because he wasn't going to stop. And then," she breathed deeply, relief, "and then a car pulled up on the drive and Anna was getting out. This seven year old girl running inside and shouting for mummy because it was her first night away from home and she'd missed me and I had to be normal and calm. I picked her up and was hugging her because she was there and it hadn't happened."

For a long time they lay silent, not moving, hardly breathing, then he kissed her head and whispered, "I wish I could take that all away from you."

She twisted over, leaning on his chest again to look at him, "But you are. Most of the time I don't think of it or remember anything about it, because I choose not to. It's the past now and I'm a different person, or learning to be. And I don't want you to think my life was always like that because it wasn't. Most of the time we were fine, happy I suppose, a little family getting along. But as time went on those happy moments seemed harder to come by."

Again they were silent, he could feel her breath on his skin, his fingers tracing invisible lines up and down her back.

"I don't need you to rescue me or be some kind of saviour." She finally said.

"I didn't mean to be that."

"I know. I didn't mean it in a horrible way, I mean I don't want you to feel you have to try and erase what happened before."

She looked up at him, those kind, warm eyes, "Being with you these past ten months has made me realise that life doesn't have to be a series of regrets or guilt. That I don't have to suppress who I am to get you to accept me, or to make for an easier life by being what somebody else wants me to be. And I don't want you to feel that way either – I'm with you because of who you are Charles, damn what anyone else thinks! I don't want to argue with you because some silly gossips think it funny to insult others, we'll have arguments over much more important things I'm sure – like wet towels being left in the bathroom and who does the ironing."

He appreciated her attempt at levity and tangled his fingers into her, "I don't mind ironing."

"Good, because I hate it." She smiled, rubbing his chest with her fingertips. "As much as I don't want to try and fit somebody's expectations of what they want from me, I don't expect that from you either. I wouldn't try to change you, Charles. I didn't go into this thinking 'he's okay, I could change this about him!' We're both too old for those kind of games. I'm with you because of who you are, exactly as you are. I'm with you because at the bottom of it all we get on!" She emphasised the last three words.

He smiled, closed his eyes in agreement. That was it, over the years he'd found it so difficult just to find somebody he could just get on with – and then all the rest was some kind of blissful bonus.

"So no more talk of not being good enough for me, or measuring yourself against somebody else's judgements. Nobody has the right to make that kind of judgement."

"Perhaps you…"

"Perhaps... But then as I've spent all day squashing my stuff into your flat and I'm lying here with you pouring my heart out in the early hours of the morning I'd say there's a pretty fair chance I've made my decision."

He slid his hand up into her hair. "I do love you."

"I know you do." She took hold of his hand, kissed his palm, "I know." And pressed her mouth to his. "Feeling better?"

"Feeling foolish, for letting something so ridiculous get to me in such a way."

"Maybe we needed to have this chat."

"I suppose so."

"So," she breathed deeply. "Either we go to sleep now because it's very late, or we enjoy our first night together in 'our' home."

"I vote for the latter."

"Me too," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.

For a long time they lay like that, with her body on top of his, kissing slowly, tenderly. She shuddered against him as his fingers slid down the side of her ribcage and he smiled, she was always extra sensitive there – an inch the other direction and she didn't flinch, but that exact spot. He did it again on purpose and she pulled back from the kiss giggling.

"Don't…"

"Sorry," he said teasingly.

"I'm sure you are. If you misbehave I won't play."

He was chuckling as she pushed herself up, and he watched mesmerised as she lifted her nightgown over her head and threw it to the floor. He slid his hands up over her stomach, cupping her breasts, sliding his fingertips under the curve of each one.

She was already grinding against him, teasing yet gentle with it. Until he sat forward, his arms circling her, as his mouth sought hers again.

They turned, Charles lying her down, her eager hands pushing down his pyjama bottoms.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered by her mouth, his tongue caressing hers.

"So am I," she mumbled in between kisses, lifting her hips forward, wrapping her body around his.

He gasped in pleasure by her ear, breathless, delicate and loving in his movements. "I never thought I'd be this lucky."

She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her, "I'm the lucky one," she says with absolute certainty.

Well, I hope that solved at least one problem! Lots more Chelsie fun to come, I hope you continue to enjoy it. Thank you as always for all the reviews and reblogs, and especially for the messages I've received this week - I'm overwhelmed by the support!