Sorry for the delay in posting this one - another fairly lengthy chapter, it covers the last remaining weeks of the school year so there was quite a bit to pack in.

Pics of the cottage discussed are on tumblr.

Chapter 22

Sunday after the party

A small gap in the curtains let in the morning sunlight, it hit Elsie's face, warm and dazzling. Not that she was asleep. She'd lain awake since 4:30, too many things she needed to do and say and fix – and the previous night's events replaying on a continuous loop behind her eyelids.

Charles was snoring lightly beside her, and she didn't mind that, not really. But she wanted him awake, his warm, strong hands on her. She wanted him loving her, filling her mind with nothing but him, with who they were together.

Turning she traced her fingertips over his face, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, brushing back his errant hair. "Charles," she whispered, surprised by the sound of her own voice in the dimness of the hotel bedroom.

One hand slid over his bare shoulder, down his bicep, squeezing very gently. And then further, below the sheets, along his leg, as far as she could reach and back up again until she sensed he was waking and his body was reacting to her touch.

She kissed his forehead again, across his cheek, down his nose until they were both smiling and his mouth was meeting hers – soft and warm and full.

She wasn't in the mood for foreplay; she sought that heady, intoxicating feeling that came with him inside of her, his weight on her, his mouth by her ear. Her fingers brought him to life and she rolled onto her back pulling him with her, her legs parting around him, gripping him to her.

But something was different. He was doing everything right and it felt good but she just couldn't quite… her eyes were closed, squeezed tight and Charles was holding back, or trying to, slowing his movements, his hips barely moving. Slow and languid with the sun on his back and her scent filling him; her nails digging into his shoulders and she was so tight and so lovely.

"God Els, I can't…" He almost whimpered the words and she held his face, kissing him deeply, lifting her pelvis to his and driving him over the edge, his face buried in her neck.

Moments later he lifted his face to hers and they both said, "Sorry…" simultaneously, laughing at the shared apology.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she brushed her hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "I guess I just wasn't quite there this morning."

"That's the first time that's happened… with us."

She nodded, just slightly, her teeth bruising her bottom lip. "It doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it…"

"But you didn't."

"No. I did. I just didn't orgasm. There's a difference."

His brow furrowed and she smiled. "Women are different to men," she shrugged. "Sometimes it just doesn't happen. For men it pretty much always happens."

He raised his eyebrows, "Sometimes a bit too easily."

She appreciated the levity, and stroked her hand down his back. "As we're awake, shall we go for breakfast?"

"Yes," he kissed her, letting his lips trace tender patterns over hers.

He worried she had Joe on her mind, that he was the reason, the block to her enjoying being with him. Last night was a breakthrough for her and highly emotional and yet she hadn't cried or even got angry and ranted and raved. They'd just talked in the chair until both were struggling to maintain conversation and then crawled into bed, falling asleep wrapped together.

Of course he knew she'd been awake during the night – she always made at least two trips to the bathroom (he'd stopped making jokes about her weak bladder during the drive down to Warwick; she'd lost her temper after he'd complained at having to stop at services for the third time in a relatively short trip). But it wasn't just that. He knew she'd lay beside him, staring at the ceiling, plumping her pillows, her hands knitted together on top of the sheets.

He gave her space. Let her work through it. And finally she'd turned over, snuggled against his side until he'd lifted his arm around her and her head found it's familiar spot on his chest and she'd drifted off.

She tapped her fingers against his lower back. "You'll have to move if we're going to get dressed and go down for breakfast."

"Mmm," he kissed her one last time before getting up. "Shall I go shower first?"

She turned on her side, folding his pillow beneath her head as she watched him. "Sure. Charles…" she said gently as he found his travel bag.

"Yep?"

"You look…" she smiled at him plodding about, naked and unashamed in front of her.

He stood tall, patting his stomach, "Almost gone see. These 'workouts' are doing me a lot of good."

She giggled, "Perhaps the bike rides every few days whilst the shop's been closed have played a part."

"Perhaps. Won't be long."

When he came out she was asleep, lying in the same position gripping the pillow and he hadn't the heart to wake her. He dressed silently, it was after nine and breakfast was only served until ten so he crept out.

There were papers in the lobby and he tucked one under his arm before lying to the receptionist – his wife (how it thrilled him to use that word) wasn't feeling well and could he possibly have a tray made up to take to her. They did as he requested and he returned to the room, pouring himself tea and eating a cinnamon bagel as he read the paper.

She didn't wake for hours and he'd broken and eaten her bagel too – guilt lingering in the aftermath. He had the television on mute and watched the cricket with subtitles, slightly delayed subtitles that told him the action around sixty seconds after it had occurred.

He heard her breathing change, and the rustling of the bed sheets and he switched off the television, turning in the chair to look at her.

She flopped onto her back, for a moment or two staring at the ceiling as she readjusted to where she was – sleep clearing and her mind sharpening.

"Hi," he said when she looked at him.

"Hi," she blinked, rolled onto her side to face him. "Did I fall asleep?"

"You did."

"What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch, twisting it on his arm, "A little after twelve."

"Goodness." She stretched her arms, curved her back. "I guess I must have needed it."

He didn't say anything, just watched as she sat up, brushing her hair back from her face. "Did Anna call?"

"Not yet. Not that I noticed anyhow."

She reached for her phone on the bedside table and hastily tapped a message, 'Are you awake yet? Lunch?'

"It's nice out." He said. "Do you want to do something before we drive home?"

"Yes. Let's not set off back until late, make the most of being here."

She dropped her legs out of bed, pulling the sheets around and pressing a hand to her forehead. "Oh, my head. I'll have to take some tablets. Was I drunk last night?"

"I think it's probably the deep sleep."

"Probably."

Her phone bleeped and she swiped her finger over the screen, 'Awake but dying. Food will either save me or push me over the edge.'

She smirked, reading it aloud to Charles.

'We'll pick you up in an hour,' she typed back.

"Think I'm going to have this Cold Cuts Board." Charles said, tapping his finger against his choice on the menu.

"That sounds good," Anna agreed. "But I think I need fat to soak up the alcohol, so I'm afraid it's going to have to be the steak burger and chips for me. Mum?"

Elsie eyed the sapphire ring sparkling on Anna's finger, it fit her well, not too large to be intrusive, not too small to be insignificant. It made her think of her mother.

"What you having mum?"

"Oh, erm, I think just this chicken salad."

"It's a gastro pub mum."

"Then it will be a very good salad." She shrugged. "I'm not very hungry." She held out her hand for their menus, "I'll go order."

"I'll go," Charles said, starting to get to his feet.

"No it's fine, I need the loo first anyhow. And no jokes please." She warned him. "So, drinks? I'm having tonic water, Charles?"

"Pint of their local ale."

"God alcohol!" Anna frowned. "Orange juice I think, no scrap that, it might make me puke."

"Lovely!"

"Diet Pepsi, loads of ice and lemon."

"And a very big jug of water to rehydrate you." Elsie said, shaking her head.

When she'd gone to the bar Anna leant in closer to Charles on their shared bench, "How is she?"

"She's been fine. We talked last night but she didn't get upset, or even angry. She's said…" he paused, perhaps Elsie wouldn't want Anna to know about the counselling, he didn't want to put his foot in it. "She said she felt 'free'."

Anna nodded, "Good. About bloody time."

"She didn't sleep well though, I think she's a bit disorientated – it doesn't help that she has work tomorrow I suppose. She can't rest."

"Three weeks left now isn't it? Then you're off to Italy?"

"Yep. I can't wait. It seems an age since Dubai."

"Well, a lot has changed since then." Anna flipped over the beer mat in front of her, fiddling with the edges of it.

Charles glanced at the bar, making sure they were still alone. "Have you heard from him?"

Anna shook her head, "No. My friend Mike sorted him into a cab so I didn't need to see him. I don't know where he went. Frankly I don't care right now."

Charles sat back, breathing deeply as Elsie returned to them carrying a tray of drinks and her purse tucked under her arm.

"So, do you want to come in on Thursday then?" He said, moving the subject on to safer territory. "I can show you the ropes. See how you get on."

"I'd like that."

"Thursdays are usually fairly quiet, so we should be able to talk about things. Your mother used to like to come in on Thursdays after school."

She sat down, handing their drinks across. "I did, it was quiet enough for me to read for an hour or so undisturbed." She sipped the tonic water, glad of the refreshment. "So, you're really going to come and work there?"

Anna shrugged, "Yep. Until I get a real job…" she faced Charles. "Sorry, I didn't mean that to sound offensive."

"None taken. I know what you mean. It's not a huge turnover but it's good enough, and with the income from my properties…"

"Properties?" Elsie asked, surprised, "You said you had a property – this place in Italy."

"I do. The villa that we'll stay in. And there's two more, one in Spain, one in France. My mother was a canny investor you see, she bought when prices were low, right after her divorce from my father – used the money she got from it to buy. And now…well, they're worth considerably more. And I get good income from them as holiday lets."

"Why did you never say?" Anna gasped, half her glass of Pepsi already drunk. "I would have loved to stay in the Spanish one. A bit of sun with my friends."

"I think it's fully booked for the summer now. I don't handle any of that stuff, I've got an agent over there, well he worked for my mother really. But I can check when it's free, book it for you, special discount as I know you."

She jerked her body against his, nudging his arm and teasing, "You're the man Mr C."

Elsie laughed, "He is indeed. And clearly your mother was quite something too."

"Oh, most definitely! Formidable and canny. Reminds me a bit of you." He said, winking at her and lifting his pint to his lips.

Friday

Elsie was distracted. It was only two weeks until the end of the school year – children were hyperactive, fuelled by the summer sun and the promised joy of six long weeks of freedom – and she'd just had her first counselling session the previous evening.

The things they'd discussed had hung heavily with her all night and she knew she'd been short with Charles on more than one occasion as a result of it. As always he'd been kind and patient and in the end she'd taken herself off early to bed, ashamed for being sharp with him.

She'd woken late that morning, slept through the alarm, and was frustrated and out of sync. She'd been wrapped in his arms, her back to his chest, his face nuzzling her neck. And she didn't want to get out of bed. In fact for several minutes she'd forgotten it was even a work day – she could feel the beginnings of his erection pressing gently against her lower back and the thought of lying in bed with him and making love seemed deliciously welcoming.

It seemed like it had been so long since they had.

In reality it was only a week, their enforced restraint had lasted longer than that earlier in the year, but that last time was so awkward and she'd felt so detached. And poor Charles was so crestfallen that she'd failed to climax. Since then she hadn't much felt like sex. And somehow it seemed to hit harder now, their levels of emotional and physical intimacy had become so in tune. She felt cruel for denying him, and it was very much her choice, she knew that, she was acutely aware of that, and she still wasn't quite sure why.

To begin with it had been the result of what happened in Warwick. Then she'd started her setting in motion the counselling sessions and had been distracted by that. Lovemaking seemed the farthest thing from her mind.

Maybe this morning was the time to put an end to that.

She turned in his arms, sliding her hands over his bare shoulders, glancing over his head to the clock on the bedside table and then noticing the time. She jerked out of his embrace, 7:15, and raced around trying to get ready.

Charles sat bolt upright in bed, "What's happened?"

"I overslept."

"Thought someone had died!" He muttered rubbing his face.

"Go back to sleep." She said rushing into the bathroom, her clothes under her arm.

"I'll make you some tea," he said, but he'd flopped back onto the bed and was already snoring lightly.

She'd rushed off with a ladder in her tights – snagged on the heel of her shoe as she went to put it on – and a lukewarm tea in her travel mug. Charles had slept through it all.

Those kinds of mornings always set her up for a bad day. Though she has more free time now her exam classes have gone but that'd already been spoken for – taken up by planning for the new curriculum, absorbing the new specification and its requirements.

So her low mood wasn't helped when at lunchtime she noticed there were five missed calls on her phone – she worried Charles was ill, or something had happened to Anna and called him in a near panic, standing at the backdoor to her classroom and listening to the passing traffic and the summer breeze in the trees.

"What's happened?" She asked when he finally answered the phone in the shop. "You've left five missed calls. Is Anna okay?"

"What? Yes, she's fine, she's serving in the coffee bit."

"Then what's happened?"

"The estate agent called…"

"What estate agent? We don't have an estate agent."

"Remember we discussed looking at other properties?"

She sighed heavily, "You mean that fragment of a conversation we had…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "…whilst lying on the kitchen floor?"

She heard him chuckle, "Yes, that one. Well I thought I might as well register our interest, get some ideas on what we can afford so my accountant did some figuring out for us and I made some calls and now they email me things they think I'll be interested in. I've been getting… oh, wait a second…"

"Charles!" she said impatiently, chewing her nail. She didn't even know he had an accountant – did the man share nothing?

"I'm back, had to serve. As I was saying, I've been getting email alerts for almost five weeks now and nothing of interest – either they're way too expensive for us or at our price but shoeboxes."

"And?"

"And today, well I saw something."

She could hear the excitement in his voice and she perched on the edge of a desk as she listened to him.

"A property has just come on the market, or will be doing tomorrow, the agent emailed me the brochure and I've booked us in to go straight after work. You are free aren't you?"

"Yes, but Charles, didn't we say we wouldn't look until after the holiday? And since when do you have an accountant?"

"His name's Murray, dependable bloke. Worked for mother. And I know we said we'd wait until the summer break to look but…" he breathed deeply, "Els, it's gorgeous. It's perfectly gorgeous."

The certainty in his voice makes her chest tight, and she rests her hand over her heart as she listens.

"It's at the top of our budget and it will mean a longer drive every morning for both of us but it's gorgeous and I can see us retired there."

She smiles, hearing him do the same.

"Alright." She says gently. "Am I meeting you there?"

"No, I'll get a taxi to the school or something, we can take your car."

"You're closing the shop?"

"Anna's here, she can cope, we've agreed by the way she's going to open three days a week whilst we're away, just to keep it ticking over – now that we've re-established ourselves… She's doing really well, I feel a little proud…"

"I know honey, you said last night. I'm pleased."

"Down to my expert training of course…"

She cuts him off, "Charles, I've got about fifteen minutes of my lunch break left. Can we discuss it later?"

"Yes, right, sure. Well, I'll be at the school for – say 15:45?"

"That's fine, I'll meet you in the car park. Get dropped off on the road though and walk down, the school buses are a nightmare."

"Will do, see you in a couple of hours darling."

His endearment cheers her, "Bye."

"Are you going to tell me anything about it?" Elsie asks as she drives.

"Detached. Four bedrooms. Surrounded by countryside."

"You sound almost giddy."

"I don't mind admitting I am," he stretches his legs out in front of him, pulling down the visor to keep the sun from his face. "Believe me when I say I must have looked at fifty brochures over the last five weeks, and nothing stood out. Then the moment I saw this one I just got this feeling… If you needed to you could live all on one level, though the attic has been opened up and converted to bedrooms, there's a guest bed downstairs – ideal when you can no longer face the stairs."

"Right… so you really are thinking of our old age."

He turned in his seat to regard her as she drove, "Do you know how happy it makes me to hear you speak of 'our' old age?"

"Oh, you know what I mean." But she's smiling too. She waves her hand at him, "So, the property?"

"Let's just get there. I promise you, you'll love it."

She turned her attention back to the road as the traffic started to move, the sat nav directed her and it took exactly twenty-three minutes from the school car park to the road the house was situated on. She reckoned that without Charles in the car and having to stick to speed limits she could get it down to under twenty. And then it struck her as foolish to make such plans when she hadn't even seen it yet. Charles' certainty was intoxicating.

When they pulled onto the flagstone parking area he practically jumped out of the car, Elsie was more reserved, taking her time, weighing it up, looking for signs of possible problems. But something in her heart was immediately pulled.

She stepped out of the car, leaning against the door as she looked up towards the building. The afternoon sun just caught the top of the roof and the white of the windows. She thought it looked like a cottage. An extended cottage yes but the stonework was exquisite – traditional Yorkshire.

"Built in 1859," Charles says coming around the car to her. He snatches her hand, "This could be it Els."

She casts him a look, "Let me get inside first hey." But he's right, it could be.

The estate agent greets them, explains it belonged to an elderly lady who died recently, and with no family to speak of but an older sister, it is being sold. It needs decorating and a little upgrading with the electrics but on the whole is in a sturdy condition.

When they've looked around with him he goes outside and sits in the garden leaving the two of them alone. Charles is in the kitchen, already making plans on how to extend the space, on how they'd rip it out and put in a new one and where it would all go. All the mod cons she likes, the Aga he wants.

Elsie leaves him to his dreaming, taking her time, wandering slowly from room to room, up and down the main hallway. When she's standing in the study, with the early evening sun on her back from the large windows behind her and the scent of old wood and dusty books surrounding her, she starts to cry, the tears come unbidden as she stands looking into the room and when Charles comes in he finds her with her hand covering her mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"I can see you here," she points at an old leather chair in front of the walled bookcase. "Right there, reading your paper on a Sunday morning."

He smiles, stepping towards her. "And, can you see you here?"

She nods, her throat tight. "I'm sorry, I don't quite know why I'm getting so emotional."

He takes her in his arms and holds her, kissing her head. "I know it's not all fashionable and new, but it's beautiful. And spacious too. This would be home for the rest of our lives… when the time comes there's plenty of rooms down here to convert one to the master suite. And the views Els." He says, pulling back to look at her, his giddiness infectious. She can't recall ever seeing him so enthused.

"Yes to all of those things." She fiddles with the collar on his shirt, sniffling back her silly tears. "Anna can have that attic room upstairs, you'll bang your head on the beams."

"And our bedroom will be the one on the end," he smiles fondly. "Those wonderful French doors to the garden, the view beyond."

She nods, "It will be heavenly waking to it."

"It will. We'll offer the asking price then?" He says eagerly.

"What? No, of course not. We go in with an offer today and see what happens. Did you say it only came on the market today?"

He nods, "Not even on the website yet."

"Well then we're in a good position aren't we?" She suddenly rolled her eyes, "Honestly Charles, we haven't even discussed our finances, where we stand mortgage wise."

"My accountant said we can afford it. And besides I've decided to sell two of the properties, keep the villa in Italy, sell the others. The money will go towards this."

"You can't do that, that's your income."

"I do fine, I am doing fine." He holds her arms. "Elspeth, I want this house, I want to live with you in this house."

Her smile is slow and perhaps a little watery, "I want that too."

He draws her into a hug, "Well then, we'll make it happen."

Two weeks later

Charles leaves negotiations to Elsie, and as always with these things they drag. By the time they've reached the end of term she's put in – and had rejected – three offers.

For the most part they put it out of their minds. There's too many other things going on to allow it to niggle: Anna moving into the flat whilst they're away in order to look after the shop, with the possibility of her taking it on once they move out. Elsie emptying her apartment and relinquishing the lease. Charles putting the properties in France and Spain on the market and Elsie's counselling – three sessions in now and beginning to have impact. And of course the dramatic rush to the end of the school year, a whirlwind of sports days and outings and changing timetables.

Everything is so busy she has no time to stop and worry, or even think.

But Charles does. He thinks all day long, as he stands behind his counter and goes through the mental checklist of what they have to do. He worries about house prices and builders and the extra cost of travelling back and forth to work. And he worries about Elsie…they still hadn't made love. He usually wouldn't let such things bother him (he'd gone years without after all) and he wasn't the demanding or pushy type… it's just this worry niggling away at the back of his mind. They haven't discussed it. She hasn't even mentioned it and he certainly has no idea on how to broach the subject. And she still cuddled up to him at night and kissed him good morning and lingered in her kisses when she gets home from work.

But he worried.

She'd found a counsellor, which he was glad of, and so far had attended three appointments. She didn't tell him what they discussed but after the first one she'd woke in the night shouting out from a dream. The dream. It was the first time he could recall her having it since all those months ago on her couch.

For a moment he'd been disorientated, she was sat up in their bed, breathing deeply and it had taken him seconds to realise why. Then he'd pressed his hand to her back, no words spoken, and she'd lay back down, curled against him, her legs over his, her arms gripping his waist, and he'd rocked her until she'd slept again.

And tomorrow they were going to Italy. And this trip that he'd so looked forward to actually seemed a little bit of an inconvenience. He wanted to push things with the house, he wanted to be there for every telephone call and email and make sure it all went smoothly. Elsie seemed calmer, but then she was in desperate need of a holiday and two weeks in the sun with nobody to bother them was looking very welcoming to her.

And tonight was the staff summer barbecue… and he was feeling a little apprehensive about being on show in front of them all.

He was waiting in the hallway, their suitcases stood by the door ready for the morning flight. He glanced at his watch, 18:25, the BBQ started at 19:00.

"Elsie?" he called.

He heard her fussing and then the clip of her heels on the hall floor as she got closer to him, "What do you think of my hair?" She asked as she came into the hall. "Too choppy?"

"Er, it looks great. Is it lighter?"

"A little," she stood in front of the mirror fussing with it. "She put more layers in it here." (Charles had no idea what that meant). "And I'm not sure if it's too young for me. I got it done for the holiday."

"As I said, it looks great."

"And this shirt…too baggy? Too boring."

He smiled, "You're nervous." He stated.

"I am rather, which is silly really. I guess because it's the whole staff there."

He rubbed his brow, "Judging me…?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him, "Everyone takes a partner, I just never have before. It was quite a surprise when our ICT technician turned up with his husband a few years back; nobody even knew he was gay. I felt sorry for the poor man, having to face that."

"That's because you're a kind woman." He smiled, tapping her bottom with his hand. "Are you ready now?"

"Did you pick up the wine?"

"I got a case of red, one white and one rose."

She turned sharply, "You bought a case of each? I meant get a bottle of each."

"Well, I don't recall you specifying numbers."

She chuckled, resting her hands on his chest and loosening his collar, smoothing it out, "Don't worry, you'll be very popular." She kissed him. "Shall we go?"

The early evening sunlight was golden and delicious, soft powdered rays catching on the rim of her sunglasses as she drove, tapping out the beat to the song on her steering wheel.

"I should have driven," he said, finding himself twisted in his seat in order to watch her. "It's your end of year celebration."

"But I don't want to drink, so I don't mind. I've seen one staff member too many embarrass themselves through drinking a wee bit too much and voicing their opinions a little too strongly. Besides, we're flying early, I don't want to be suffering on the plane."

"Very true."

He gazed out of the window as she drove, listening to the music, recalling the last school event he'd attended. He thought of the horrid women from the prom and wondered if he'd recognise their voices – he hoped not, it was a beautiful evening and tomorrow they were going away for a fortnight and he was happy.

"You know, you look particularly beautiful tonight, particularly exquisite."

"You're such a flirt."

"Oh yes, and we both know how well that went don't we. Years and years and lists and lists of past conquests." He joked, self-deprecating.

"Well, don't go testing those techniques tonight on any pretty young teachers…"

His pride perked up, "Oh, jealous are we?"

"Now you know I'm not a jealous person by nature but yes, I'll admit to getting a tad jealous when it comes to you."

He laughed, "I love that, I might flirt on purpose just to get a reaction."

"Oh, you will not!" She took her hand from the wheel and slapped his leg. "How are you feeling about the flight?"

"Let's not talk about it."

She smiled, resting her hand on his knee as they paused in traffic, "Think of it this way, it's what – two hours – we spent over seven hours on that flight to Dubai."

"I guess. Bigger plane though, less shaking."

Chuckling she squeezed his knee, "Oh, honey." She turned into the car park, "Well, you can always hold my hand if you feel scared."

"I think I will hold your hand. Just to steady me of course."

"Oh, of course."

She smoothed down her trousers and shirt as she got out of the car, admiring the pedicure she'd had done for her holiday - she'd worn sandals especially to show it off!

"Come on then," she said, setting off towards the school.

"Erm, Elsie?"

She swished around, a few metres from him, "Yes?"

"I might need a bit of help with the wine."

"Oh, God yes." She ran back to him, chuckling as he lifted the boot. "Sorry, too busy thinking about my toes."

"What?"

"Never mind."

She stacked two boxes in his arms, "You're sure you're okay with two?"

"Is it far?" He asked, resting his chin on top of them.

"Not really." She struggled with the last box, somehow balancing it and closing the boot of the car at the same time.

They were some of the last to arrive – Elsie blamed the slow hairdresser – and found Phyllis had saved them seats on the 'History department' table. She got up to kiss Charles, which both surprised and pleased him.

"This is my husband Joseph."

"Nice to meet you," an overly smiley man, he held out his hand and Charles shook it, "Good to have some support at these things." He said jovially.

Charles agreed, at least he wasn't sat next to the P.E. teacher again.

He glanced around for where Elsie had gone.

"And of course you remember Colin Spratt," Phyllis chimed in, "And this is Eve – our newest recruit."

"Very nice to see you all." He said, taking his seat, he spotted Elsie being hugged by a woman about her age on another table.

"Did you bring three cases of wine?" Eve asked, leaning her elbows on the table.

"We had a mix up on numbers. My mistake." He said.

"Your mistake, our gain." She smiled.

He nodded, turned on the bench he was sat on to look around. They appeared to be in the school precinct and the entire thing was set up in the style of an old southern barbecue, there was even bunting hung in the trees.

"You do this every year?" He asked.

"Regular as clockwork," Phyllis replied. "It's a nice way to end the year, instead of just disappearing for six weeks."

"Though it pissed it down one year," Spratt said, he appeared to be without a partner, "And we had soggy burgers."

Joseph laughed, "I remember that. We were sheltering in the sports hall and the Head was worried about the gym floor being ruined."

Charles reached for a bottle of red wine and poured himself a large glass, Eve waggled her glass at him and he refilled it.

"You on your own?" He asked her.

She was swallowing a gulp of wine and pointed over the top of her glass to where a smart, blonde man stood, "He's there, Tom, no doubt chatting someone up. Why…" she smiled mischievously, "were you hoping to catch me on my own?"

Charles smiled nervously and drank his wine, turning to scan the precinct for Elsie – it was going to be a long bloody night if all he had for entertainment was Joseph Mosley laughing at every single joke and this Eve making eyes at him whilst her boyfriend circulated.

He was heartened when he saw Elsie was waving at him, beckoning him over. "Duty calls," he said, throwing his long legs over the bench and getting up.

"Charles," she said gripping his arm. "This is Nancy Butte, head of Food Technology, we've worked together for, what, twenty years now?"

"Must be, but don't say it too loud." She was gripping Charles' hand. "Very nice to meet you, Elsie's told me a lot about you. And it's so nice to see her happy." She beamed, still shaking on Charles' arm.

"I'd agree with that." He assured her.

"You've been together how long now?"

"Well, it's almost a year since I first asked her out to dinner." He said proudly, the memory of that shaky, mumbled request still fresh in his mind.

"That's wonderful." She squeezed his arm again, clearly she liked to touch, "I think that's just so wonderful to find someone at your time of life."

Elsie let out a chortle, covering her mouth to try and hide it.

"It is," Charles said patiently, nodding. "Nice to meet you."

Elsie hooked her arm through his and steered him away.

"Silent guffaw," she whispered as they turned away from Nancy. She patted his arm, "I think she was talking about our combined old age."

"Sure she was!"

"We're not looking bad for 108." She said.

"We're looking damned good for 108."

"She wasn't being mean, she can just be… well, clumsy in her choice of words. More than one parent's rung up over some comment in class, but she's harmless, she's got a good heart really."

"Right bunch so far," he said waggling his eyebrows at her. "When do we eat?"

"Neil's on the barbecue, see, over there."

Charles glanced towards a man in an overly large Chef's hat who was flipping burgers.

"I hope he hurries up, I'm starving. We were so busy today I hardly got time to eat. Half a sandwich snatched between customers."

"That's good though," she smiled, "you and Anna, the dream team."

"I hope she'll be okay when we're away."

"She will be. I'm sure. Look, we're likely to play games later," she said, suddenly serious as they headed back to their table. "And I want to win."

He chuckled, "Well, I shall do my very best."

"Thank you honey," she paused, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Let's destroy them!" She whispered by his ear.

"Can we settle down then please, no talking whilst the numbers are being called." Spratt said, stood on an upturned crate with a microphone in one hand and a bowl of bingo numbers on a table next to him.

"Like being the students," Phyllis whispered to the group and they sniggered.

"This isn't a game of skill," Charles muttered to Elsie, "I can't even try and win this. It's bingo, it's luck."

"You have to be skilled not to miss any of the numbers." She said to him.

"Mrs Hughes." Spratt called. "Settle down over there."

Thy all chuckled and she turned to face Spratt, "Sorry Colin, I'll behave."

"You're in his bad books now." Phyllis whispered again.

"As if she could be," Eve chipped in. "He totally loves her."

"I damn well hope not." Charles whispered.

"Funny way of showing it if he does," Elsie said dabbing number 44.

"Mrs Hughes!" Spratt shouted. "Will I have to disqualify you?"

She rolled her eyes, "I'm like the unluckiest kid in the class," she mumbled to the table. "Sorry!" She called again. "But I am being distracted sir, in my defence."

"I only saw your mouth move." He said, turning the numbers in the bowl.

"That's because he's only watching your mouth," Eve giggled and they all laughed again.

"Ha bloody ha." Elsie complained, dabbing number 23. She only needed 69 now for the house. "You're all a bunch of bullies…"

"Six and nine, sixty-nine."

"Ah! Yes!" She jumped up from her seat. "Yes, I win. I mean house!"

"Yay!" Eve clapped. "And what a fine number to win it on hey Elsie, a 69 from Spratt."

"Oh god, don't disgust me." She clambered over the bench, waving her ticket at Spratt to prove her win. "How much do I get Colin?"

"As it's the final bingo of the night the prize is £300, but I'll have to check your numbers first."

"Oh of course." She turned to the rest of the staff, silently mouthing, "YES!" And doing a happy little dance.

"All seems to be in order, well done Mrs Hughes."

The staff clapped, some cheered, as he handed her the envelope and she pulled him into a hug, "I think you can call me Elsie tonight can't you." And she kissed his cheek – making his year.

"I've gone off Spratt." Charles said merrily as they drove home. "Worried about my flirting indeed, when all the time this clown's got a humongous crush on you."

"Humongous is an underused word," she said, shaking her head. "We should have more 'humongous' things."

"Bugger off!"

She laughed, "It isn't a crush. Not like that, I don't think he has sexual thoughts. He probably likes the fact I'm mean to him and manage to always rhyme his name with a certain coarse word of the English vernacular."

Chuckling Charles reached across and squeezed her shoulder as she drove, "I like you in this mood. You were in top form tonight Els."

"I'm £300 better off, going to stay in a private villa in Italy tomorrow and hopefully getting a dream house so yes, I am in 'top form' as you say."

"Well, when you put it like that I guess things couldn't be much better."

She bit her lip, "Maybe a little better." She slid her hand onto his knee, and then higher up his thigh.

He glanced across at her his eyes narrow, "Are you trying to seduce me Ms Hughes? Because I have to tell you I'm not sure my mother would approve of that kind of thing."

"Would you like me to seduce you…?"

"I want you so badly…" Charles gasped; they were hardly inside the door, stumbling into the shop, Charles trying to reset the alarm whilst her hands were all over him, her fingers working the fly on his trousers. "God, it's been so long." He panted, kicking off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs.

She backed up them, keeping her eyes locked on his as she did so, pushing open the door at the top with her bottom as she went inside.

"Elsie," he mumbled, reaching her, his hands around her waist pulling her to him, the delicious feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. She covered his mouth with hers; her kisses were making him dizzy.

Elsie was pressed up against the doorframe, her knee between his legs, digging against his groin. "I want you to be mine." He said. "Just mine."

His words seemed to stop her, and she pulled back from the kiss, pressing her hands against his chest and pushing away.

"What?"

"Don't say that."

"What did I say?" He was genuinely confused, worried, painfully aware of his huge erection pressing against the zipper of his trousers.

"That I'm only yours." She shrugged. "I don't like it."

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realise I had. I'm sorry…" he leant in to kiss her again, hoping to brush it aside but she turned her face.

"I'll make camomile tea," she suddenly said. "We need to be up early tomorrow for the flight."

He stared after her, "Els…" he said, dejected. "Don't do that."

He followed her into the kitchen. "Elsie, come on. I didn't mean to sound in any way controlling. It just slipped out."

"I know, just forget it."

He watched as she filled the kettle, waited until she was stood by the counter until he slid his arms around her waist and kissed her head. "Joe used to say it?" He whispered.

"We made a deal not to discuss him again."

"We're discussing you. If I don't know I can't help. I made a mistake."

"No you didn't, I know how you meant it. But it just…" she shrugged. "It just ruined the mood."

"And for that I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise." She poured hot water into the pot and stirred in the tea.

"We haven't spoken about your sessions." He said gently. "I didn't want to intrude."

"You couldn't. You aren't. We just talk really – money for old rope." She smiled, then shrugged, "It's good to do that I suppose, but it's raised a lot of memories, things I'd forgotten about. My parents. Joe. And some days I can't empty my head of it all."

She turned in his arms, wrapping her hands around his waist, "And other days I get to spend my time with you planning our future home and I forget completely."

He brushed her hair back from her face, leant in to kiss her forehead. "You must talk to me, when things are tough."

"I don't want you to feel you have to try… to try and be my counsellor. It seems from the start you've been carrying this baggage I've brought with me and that's not fair."

"Well," he said, his throat choked up, "You carry me too. I'm not sure you even realise how introverted I was before you. Do you remember?"

"I remember I thought you painfully shy when we met. And maybe a wee bit rude…well, short."

He chuckled, "See. Mother complained I was dismissive of others and scared the customers off!"

"Well, you didn't scare me off." She rested her head against his chest. "Perhaps when we're away I'll feel more relaxed."

"Yes." He rubbed her back. "Wish we'd heard about this house though. I feel a little disappointed about it."

"They have my mobile number, they can call us in Italy as easily as they can call us here." She kissed him through his shirt, "Don't worry. If it's meant to be then it's meant to be. If not," she pulled her head back to look at him. "We're okay here aren't we? Happy enough?"

"Very much so." He hugged her close again, "Very, very much so."

Right, well that brings us right up-to-date ready for their next holiday. Phew! Hope you're still enjoying their journey. x