There are two Shirley Bassey songs used here from her 'The Performance' album - The Apartment and This Time, should you want to enjoy them along with Elsie!

Chapter 29

They were woken by Charles' alarm; Elsie was lying on her side and Charles pressed up against her back, his arm over her waist. She groaned at the insistent beeping and he rolled onto his back, reached behind him and pressed the off button.

Elsie snuggled back into her pillow, lifting the duvet up around her face in a joint bid to ignore him and return to sleep.

For a few moments he remained where he was, waking slowly, and then he leant over her, kissing the bit of her face he could see. "Morning." He whispered.

She ignored him. If she spoke, she'd argue. The fitful night's sleep had done little to alleviate her bad mood, in fact if anything it had strengthened it and she didn't want to wake just to argue.

After a while he sighed heavily, got out of bed and she listened to the running of the shower, letting it lull her back to sleep.

It felt eerily quiet in the flat being up and around without her – as he sat alone in the kitchen sipping his tea and eating his toast he was reminded of days gone by, days of being a bachelor where his diary would be full but his heart very much empty.

Every where he looked now there were touches of her; from the expected bulging of his wardrobe and the lines of shoes in the cupboard in the hall, to the fact that everywhere smelt so much better. He wasn't quite sure how she did it, something to do with what she cleaned with, the softener she put in the washing machine that made the towels smell like springtime, the fact that they had candles standing around – he never knew people bought candles just for the look and smell, to him they were practical for if the power went off, at a push romantic as a seduction technique.

She was still sleeping as he went down to work and he couldn't escape the feeling he'd done something terribly wrong.

Arranging to meet Beryl for afternoon tea at a posh hotel Elsie spent the morning cleaning the flat before changing, curling her hair and putting on fancy heels.

Charles was restocking shelves as she came in through the shop, "You're going out?" He asked, it was the first time he'd seen her all day.

"I am."

"Somewhere nice? You look nice."

"Thank you."

"So you're going…?" He asked tentatively, somewhat nervous.

"Out. To meet Beryl for afternoon tea. So I won't be cooking."

"I don't expect you to." He said gently. "Have fun."

"Thank you. See you later."

She didn't kiss him goodbye.

"I felt like a guest in my own home." Elsie said, watching Beryl spread jam over her scone. "Like she was lady of the house."

"I guess she kinda has been," she bit into her scone. "He's not had a proper girlfriend has he?" She asked, spluttering crumbs everywhere.

Elsie shook her head and handed her a napkin, "No, not really."

"Bit weird," Beryl frowned, "Like a sexless ménage et trois."

"Oh god, don't say that, it isn't like that! I understand their friendship, I understand how close they are, it just…" she fiddled with her tea spoon, "it just hurt somewhat, to hear her say he'd told her all about our finances, asked for her advice, taken her to the house –,"

"On their own!"

Elsie rolled her eyes, "Yes. I don't like to think he's discussing things with her that should only be discussed with me. That he might tell her things about our relationship that are only for the two of us to discuss. Which is sort of ironic given that I am discussing our relationship with you!" She smiled. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me about the kids, who's this William?"

"Lovely lad, bit too fond of our Daisy I suspect but I'm not sure he'll be with us long. There's an aunt he might go and stay with."

"No sign of his father?"

"Died when he was young. Poor kid's an orphan, but I mean he's not far off being a legal adult, and he seems pretty grounded. He may be able to move back into his home, to keep it at least."

"That's good. I really don't know how you balance all of this, how you stay on top of it."

"I often feel ignorance is bliss." She laughed, refilling Elsie's tea. "You know we should have wine, you look like you need a pick-me-up. You aren't getting cold feet are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, you still want to marry him?"

"Yes of course. This isn't about my feelings for him or my commitment – it's about me feeling bloody awkward about that woman and angry; I'm angry at Charles for revealing things to her that should just be between us. And I'm not sure he realises he's done anything wrong." She sighed, playing with the butter knife. "How do you do it – marriage? You and Bill have been together forever."

"You've been married before…"

She rolled her eyes, "That hardly counts. Thirty years of living a false life, pretending I'm someone I'm not, abiding by someone else's rules. Now I finally get to be me, and I'm enjoying that, I'm enjoying having the freedom to be silly and flirtatious and spontaneous. Not a regimented life. And I worry that maybe the more I loosen up the less Charles likes of me."

"That's your own insecurities sweetheart, not him. He adores you, anyone can see that…" Beryl took a cake from the display between them, "Want to share this?"

"Yes. Let's."

"It just takes patience. Trust. And being open."

"I'm trying to be. And I do trust him, more than anyone, I did… but after last night I spent the evening tossing and turning worrying how much he'd shared with Isobel. I don't like the idea of battling with another woman for my fiancé's attention."

"Then be honest, tell him that."

"I thought I did. It's difficult… not difficult, just, I tread carefully, sometimes I forget he's almost 58 and he's spent the majority of his life living as a bachelor – that's a hell of a long time to live on your own, making your own choices, doing your own thing when you want. On some things he can be stuck in his ways," she shrugged, "he likes things just 'so', organised, and I don't blame him for that, I don't resent it, its part of who he is just as my spontaneity is part of me. But I think that both of us forget sometimes that it's not just going to work, we have to work at it."

"I think most couples have to solve that problem," Beryl said, her cake ignored for the moment as Elsie opened up to her. It's not often she bears her soul and so Beryl knows when to quiet and listen, when to contribute her own views. "Maybe it's harder because you are older and starting this, because he's not used to being part of a couple. But your maturity also means you don't have the fuss and franticness of 'young love'. Lust and jealousy and constant arguments. For one thing we don't have the energy for it."

"Or the time," Elsie laughed. "And I resent your lust comment! We very much have that thank you very much."

Beryl giggled naughtily, "I know, I just wanted to get you to reveal some juicy gossip."

"Hmm," she reached for her cake. "Unfortunately life can't be all romantic holidays and lazing in the sun."

"Unfortunately."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"Ooh but just imagine if it was. Me and Bradley Cooper just enjoying ourselves – naked from dusk til dawn."

"Beryl!" They both sniggered, covering their mouths to avoid drawing attention to their selves.

"Eat your cake."

"Yes Ms Hughes… soon to be Mrs Carson, how odd will that be?"

"You know, I'm rather looking forward to it. You want to do something naughty after tea?"

"Such as?"

"I'm planning our engagement party, I want it to coincide with Charles' birthday."

"Nice idea."

"Yes. And I want to look fabulous for it."

"But of course you do, so we're going shopping?"

"If you can spare the time."

Beryl nodded, "Don't worry, we'll find you something truly sexy and jaw-dropping."

"Don't forget Charles' friends will be there, his cricket lot! And my work colleagues."

"Even more of a reason to show them how god damn lucky he is!"

Charles was on the sofa when she got in, watching snooker and eating a bag of chips. Elsie rolled her eyes when she spotted his choice of dinner.

"Hi," he said, looking up at her. "Good time?"

"Yes. Thank you. You?"

He shrugged, "Felt like being a bachelor again – work, then chips and T.V."

"Lucky you."

"I was thinking unlucky me." He put his chips on the coffee table. "So, will you talk to me now?"

"About?"

"What's upset you? You stomped off to bed last night, you've avoided me all day."

"I would have thought it was obvious, I hardly hid it."

He sighed, "Isobel. I know she can be…"

"Pushy? Nosey? Judgemental?"

"Elsie… she's my friend. My oldest friend."

"And I'm meant to be becoming your wife. You need to get your priorities straight on which one is more important Charles."

She picked up letters from the side table, skimming through them and tearing one open.

"I'm not sure I like the tone," he said, "you're hinting I don't put you first. Which I don't really think is fair… what are you reading?"

"Letter from the solicitor, the first search from the house is back. All is clear, which is good news."

"If you still want to live with me."

"Don't be childish."

"Fair question I feel – under the circumstances."

"Do you still want to live with me?"

"As opposed to what – living with Isobel?"

"Oh don't do that, mocking my worries, making light of it."

"I'm not, though I do think it's laughable." He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as the words have left his mouth and he desperately tries to claw it back. "I mean, we're just friends, she's married to my best friend."

"You said she was your best friend."

"They are."

"Not me?"

"Don't play that game."

"I'm going to bed Charles. This is ridiculous, this conversation is laughable."

"Yes because you're being irrational."

"How – because I'm upset over being side-lined by an ex-lover?" She marched into their bedroom, then into the en-suite, Charles following her.

"It was a lifetime ago. There's no cause to be jealous."

"Oh, I'm not jealous. I'm angry, I'm hurt. For god's sake, you've been so patient with me for months and months and now I'm finally here saying yes I want it, all of it, let's get married, where the hell are you? Hiding under bloody Isobel's bloody skirts!"

"You know I want this, you." He shook his head, irritated and frustrated, "It's ridiculous to think otherwise."

"Maybe it's the wrong choice," she muttered, filling the sink.

Charles couldn't hear her over the sound of the water and the fact her back was to him, "What did you say? Els stop mumbling to yourself, you got something to say then say it."

"I said maybe you're marrying the wrong fucking woman!" She roared, swishing round to face him.

"That's preposterous."

"Is it?"

"I can't do this, I can't have this conversation with you when you're in this mood."

"If I'm in a mood it's because I have no other option. Because you've made my position untenable."

"I'm going out. Going for a bike ride."

"It's 7:30 at night!"

"Then it'll be quiet."

She's asleep when he gets home – feeling chilled and a little bit tipsy after ending up in a nearby pub and nursing one too many whiskies.

He undresses in the lounge, careful not to wake her as he creeps into their bedroom and slips in beside her. Their bed is warm and soft and he relaxes instantly, closing his eyes, sinking back into the pillow.

Beside him she turns, murmuring in her sleep, and pressing against him. Holding him. And he wonders how communication can be so bloody difficult when they have such natural affection for the other.

He curls his arms around her and drifts to sleep, contemplating how on earth he's going to pacify concerns he doesn't fully understand.

The next morning he wakes once again to the sound of his alarm and once again they've fallen into the same position – Elsie on her side, Charles behind her, his arm over her waist.

He switches the alarm off, reluctant to relinquish his comfortable position by her side. Her bottom is pressed against his groin and he can feel the beginnings of an erection; the thought of making love to her swims through his brain making him dizzy and he wants this awkwardness gone so he can just touch her, kiss her, and show her once more exactly how much he cares.

Frustrated, he rolls over, wiping his eyes and contemplating the day ahead. Its Friday so will hopefully be busy. And Anna will be in – thank goodness. He thinks he'll take Elsie out for dinner. Fix this thing before it becomes too big and too messy.

Elsie wakes late, leisurely, and decides that the weather is nice so she'll go out walking – it's a pleasant day and she's in no mood for sulking around the flat trying to find things to occupy her time. She manages a few miles, sticking to the main routes where there are plenty of others – dog walkers, couples, young families with children running about.

She has lunch in a small café, it's quaint and quiet and she thinks she'll take Charles there. He'll like the tranquillity of it, the fact they could eat outside and read in the sunshine. As she pays she spots the cakes and purchases an entire lemon drizzle one for him.

He's still working when she gets in – his Friday afternoon book group, the numbers have swelled since the makeover and she's happy for him, pleased its going well.

She's tired and sweaty and she sneaks through, going up to their flat for for a shower.

When his group have finally gone and the shop is empty he cashes up, puts their coffee mugs into the sink for cleaning and heads upstairs. He's tired, cranky and unsettled and all he wants is a long bath and a short measure of single malt and to curl up on the couch with Elsie.

He fears few of those things will happen.

Its quiet in the flat, still and tranquil; he goes into the kitchen, fills the kettle and empties tea into the pot, there's a cake on a plate covered in cling film and he wonders if she baked it.

She's in the comfy chair in the lounge; what used to be his comfy chair, until she commandeered it. Now she reads there most nights, or if he's in it slinks into his lap and cuddles against him.

If she's noticed him there she doesn't show it; remains quiet, turns the pages of her book. Her hair is damp and clipped on top of her head and she's wearing her robe – it slips from her shoulder revealing the slightest hint of her creamy skin, still sun kissed from Italy.

"How long am I going to get the silent treatment for?" He said, his voice shaky; Elsie's eyes never left her book. "Because it's been two days now and I'm not sure I can take much more of it." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Els… please."

"What do you want me to say?" She turned another page on her book. "You refuse to acknowledge that what I'm feeling is legitimate, so what's there to say?"

"I never said it wasn't legitimate. Just ill-founded."

She shrugged, silent again.

"Els… Elsie… I don't have feelings for Isobel."

"No. You just share all of our private matters with her."

"But I always have, she's my confidant, her and Richard. She's my best friend."

At that she snatched her breath, glanced up, "Really? Well that's nice to know, because if somebody asked me now who my best friend was I'd say you, clearly I need to rethink my priorities."

He groaned, covering his face, "No, that's not what I meant. I'm making a mess of this. You are… you're the most important thing, the most important person to me. Of course you are."

"But you have to think before you give that answer." She slid her glasses off, closing her book. He looked pale, his eyes dark and he had that kind of hangdog expression one expects of people in the dock. "Look Charles, it's all very well to have this fantasy of me – this woman who comes wandering into your shop who you quite fancy."

"It's not a fantasy."

"I think maybe it was, at one point. The reality of me, of us, is quite different. There's more to it than fancy holidays and buying a beautiful house and planning a home and a wedding and sex… there's more to me. And part of that is the boring mundane stuff yes – like financial decisions that should be kept between us because it's our business, nobody else's. And more than that Charles there's trust. I trusted you," her voice changed, clouding over. "I told you things about my life I've never told anyone, not Beryl, not Anna, not this counsellor… and now I feel like I can't tell you, because Isobel may find out."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Really? Because she mentioned that she knew I didn't get on with my father."

He shook his head, held his hands up, "No, that's not how it sounds… she asked about your family once, early on when we were still dating and you'd told me you left Scotland because you didn't get on with your father and I told her that, that's all. I'd never tell anyone the things you've shared in confidence. You have to believe that."

She shrugged, closing her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Elsie, you do, don't you?"

She nodded, "Yes. I do believe that."

"Good."

"But that doesn't change the other things. Charles you have to realise that this is 'us' now, and I don't want to feel like every decision we make is being passed by her. No wonder the woman's quizzing me – probably thinks I'm some kind of gold digger. You've altered so much of your life recently… for me."

"She doesn't think that."

"Doesn't she? I would. Fancy holidays, selling your homes, buying this new place. And then this," she holds up her hand, wiggling her ring finger, "giving this away. She knows very little about me Charles."

"I want you to be friends with her."

"I know. But you can't force these things. We're different people, you and I, we can't always agree, we can't always have the same friends."

He flops down onto the sofa; he looks crestfallen, worn out.

"You should go to bed. You look tired."

"I don't like arguing with you."

She sighs heavily, "But do you understand why I'm upset?"

He shrugs, "I suppose."

"That isn't an answer Charles –,"

"She would never deliberately upset you, she's not that kind of person."

She groans, rolls her head back in frustration, "Charles. This isn't about her."

"Then what? What can I do? Every thing I say is wrong."

Opening her book again she slides her glasses back on, "Go to bed. You look exhausted."

He thinks he dislikes the quiet arguments more than the roaring angry ones. At least he knows where he stands with that.

"Will you still be here, when I wake up?" He asks softly by the door.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Anna's frantic and flustered when she comes racing upstairs just after lunch on Saturday afternoon, "Mum, can you come downstairs and help in the shop?"

"Where's Charles?"

"He went out for lunch and he hasn't come back."

"Oh for goodness sake." She wipes the flour from her hands and follows Anna down.

"If you serve in the shop I can handle the coffees, you know how to work the register system?"

"I'm sure I'll figure it out."

"Where the bloody hell is he? Did you call him?"

"He left his phone here," she glances over her shoulder and rolls her eyes, "You two had an argument or something?"

"Just a slight disagreement," she squeezes Anna's shoulder as they reach the bottom of the stairs, "We'll sort it. Though I could kill him for making me work in the shop, I was baking."

"It smells great."

There's a queue at the register when they get downstairs and Elsie gets a 45 second crash-course into how to work it before being left to fend for herself.

Thomas slips his sunglasses back on as he leaves the pub and crosses the beer garden, a gin and tonic in one hand, a pint in the other. It's almost three and he can't quite remember how many units he's consumed – let alone calories – but Charles has been lamenting for the past two hours and he feels he really should stay and listen.

Slipping back onto the bench across from his older friend he slides the beer across the table.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Thomas slipped his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time.

"I'm no good at relationships, I never have been." Charles mumbled, staring into his drink, the sun hot on the back of his neck. "Maybe I'm just meant to be single."

"Don't be fucking ridiculous." Thomas said, slamming his phone down. "You absolutely love her and she absolutely loves you. You just made a mistake, a big one, but a mistake."

"But why did I make such a 'big' mistake? I don't fully understand why she's so upset…"

"Jesus Charles, you shared information about your relationship with Isobel, your ex, of course she's going to be upset."

"But she's not my ex, not really, we were just kids."

"Kids who knew each other intimately. To be honest I've never fully understood why Richard's okay with it, it's a bit weird."

"No, I mean, he was there, he knew what happened. If anything he felt guilty for being the one to break us up, but we weren't right and he and Isobel are, they just worked."

"Just like you and Elsie just work."

"Yeah."

"So what the fuck are you doing sitting with me in the pub when you should be on your knees getting that woman to forgive you?"

"I don't what to say, everything I say is wrong."

"How about 'I'm sorry, I've been a dick, forgive me', that might be a start."

Charles pouted, took a gulp of his beer. "Not used to having to think every single bloody thing through."

"I'll tell you what you're not used to, you're not used to having to think about someone else, not every day, neither am I – this relationship with Jimmy is killing me. But the difference between us is I'm a selfish bastard and you're not. You're actually quite nice. And look at you – look how you've changed just this year alone, you've never been like this. So… tell Isobel to back off, she's your friend and all but to be honest mate she can be a bit controlling. And she's never liked me."

"That's because you deliberately wind her up at Christmas parties by saying provocative things."

"Elsie laughs at my jokes."

He smiled, "That's because Elsie has a similar filthy sense of humour."

"She likes Madonna too."

"She'd dance to anything."

"I do get to be your best man don't I?"

"Page boy maybe. Are you going to bring this Jimmy to the engagement party?"

"If he'll come, he's a damn flirt though, he'll be after anything with a pulse."

Charles frowned, "You are happy though, aren't you?"

Thomas shrugged, "Sometimes. Are you?"

He breathed deeply, "All the time."

"Well then, drink up and go home."

He walks home, the breeze helps to clear his slightly fuzzy head and he figures things would be even worse if he turned up half-drunk. As he's passing a florist tidying up he stops to purchase a bunch of flowers; a few metres down the street he remembers Anna, turns round and buys another.

When he reaches the bookshop the closed sign is showing and he has to knock on the glass. Anna looks up from the cash register and he reckons he's seen the look she gives him on Elsie's face before. She lets him in and he sheepishly follows her back to the counter.

"Sorry," he finally says, watching how quickly she manages the cashing up. "Didn't keep an eye on the clock."

Anna rolls her eyes and he knows he's seen that look before.

"Those for mum?" Anna asks.

"One for you," he holds the flowers out to her. "Thanks for covering for me."

"You better thank mum too, she was down here a couple of hours too."

"Really?"

"A-ha. We're quite the team you know."

"Oh. I know. I know how lucky I am."

Anna's shoulders sag and she accepts the flowers from him. "Well, we're lucky too. Even when you are a bit of a pillock."

"You know why me and your mum are arguing?"

"Nope. She hasn't said a thing. She didn't even say you were arguing – she said it was a slight disagreement. Maybe you ought to go talk to her. I'll lock up down here, and see you Tuesday."

"Thank you." He walks past her, stops, re-thinks and turns to kiss her cheek.

There's a delicious smell coming from upstairs and he can hear music playing in the kitchen and Elsie singing. He stops on the stairs for a moment listening, taking his time; he can't imagine life without her in it now.

Brushing a hand through his hair he climbs the rest of the stairs and stops by the kitchen door, watching as she rinses dishes at the sink, her back to him.

She's swaying her hips, curving her waist as she moves from side-to-side, and singing along animatedly to the lyrics.

'I'm runnin' away from Cinderella. Don't want to go to Rapunzel's hairdresser. Get me outta this, this, this here fairytale. According to me dreams are hell. All I want is an apartment. All I need is an apartment. If you've any leads on an apartment, tell me please. 'Cause I'm runnin' away from Cinderella.'

"Some thing smells wonderful." He says as the instrumental takes over.

She looks back sharply, a slight smile upon her lips as her cheeks colour, "Thank you. Goats cheese and onion tarts."

"For us?"

"Unless you've already eaten?"

"Course not."

"There's pear tart too, I made too much pastry." She shrugged, drying her hands on a towel.

"What's this? I recognise the voice."

"That's because she's a legend."

"Bassey? Never heard this track."

"It was new stuff, few years ago."

"And is that how you feel, you want to go back to your apartment?"

She leant back against the sink. "Don't be silly... I was worried you know.."

"Was with Thomas, lost track of time. Talking." He held the flowers towards her, "Sorry."

"For…?"

"Disappearing."

"That's it?"

"Sorry…" he sighs, "I'm sorry for hurting you, I realise that my sharing things with Isobel wasn't fair."

She closes her eyes, just momentarily, and he watches her intake of breath – relief. "Thank you."

Tentatively he takes a step closer, handing her the flowers.

Her eyes are wide and bright as she looks up at him, the blue shining, "You hurt me." She finally says.

He bites his lip, squeezes the stems of the flowers, "I won't do it again."

"Good."

"So, are we friends again?"

"Charles," she slides her hands up over his shoulders, "We never stopped being friends."

"I don't always get things right."

"Who does? We're human. We're still learning who we are together. But I do want to feel you're on my side."

"Always."

"Well then," she takes the flowers from him, lays them across the sink. "Dance with me."

He realises the track has changed, and she's taking his hand and moving with him, dancing in their kitchen.

'No more trying to break free, no more apologies. No more finding my feet just to fall. Every dream didn't just take me further away. Every dream took me closer to finding you. I know this time's the time, the time for love. And it's right here in front of my eyes. I know this time's the time. You only get once in your life.'

"I do love you," he says by her ear, breathing in the scent of her.

"I know that," she leans her head back to look at him, "I never doubt that. It's just working things out together."

"I suppose I'm not always used to considering someone else's feelings."

She doesn't respond, only smiles and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Are you coming to the zoo tomorrow?"

"You're going?" He asks, confused.

"Yes. I promised Laurel, I'm picking her up in the morning. She wanted the seaside but I told her it'll have to be the zoo for now, we might drive to the coast later in the summer, stay for a few days."

"I'd like to."

"Good." She tapped his chest. "I'm going to make the salad for dinner. Why don't you pour some wine, set the table?"

He does as she asks, watching her slice tomatoes, listening to the rise and fall of the music.

"I have an odd feeling."

"Oh?"

"We've had days of being unsettled."

"Yes. But we're fine. We always were." She looks over to him as he sinks into a chair, "You do know that don't you?"

He shrugs.

"Charles. We don't just stop." Putting down the knife she kneels in front of him, "When I proposed it meant forever, just as the vows state. And I can tell you that in that time we're going to have a fair few arguments. But it doesn't mean we won't be together. It just means we won't always be on the same page."

"I'm sorry I made you feel like I wasn't there with you."

"Well, I can tell you I've taken liberties and started planning our engagement party and you're going to have to dance. And if you don't like it tough, because I've already booked the venue and bought my outfit."

He smiles, touching her hair, "Can I see it?"

"Oh no, a surprise until the night."

"I can't wait."

"Good," she leant forward and kissed him again. "Because neither can I. I want everybody to see how in love we are."

Left a lot of courage behind. That I won't be needing this time. Cause I can be true. I can be one, I can be strong. I know this time's the time, you only get once in your life. I know this heart's the heart, the heart I'm keeping. For the love I thought I'd never find. I know this times forever. For worse and for better, this time.

I wanted to show a balanced approach here, I hope I've achieved it! Not out and out rowing but just learning...a difficult thing in any relationship! xx