This has turned into a longer chapter than intended - I received a really interesting message from lemacd (which I really appreciate, anyone sending me messages about the story is a real boost) and it got me thinking which led to a certain scene in this chapter. So, I hope it answers some of your questions.
Six Years Ago
Elsie stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, smoothing her hands down the side of her body, over her belly, her ribcage, her breasts. She'd changed, and not just with age, she was bigger than she'd like to be – and not out of some vain ideas about being attractive to the opposite sex, she could care less about wanting men to notice her. This was about being comfortable with herself, and she wasn't.
She slid her hands up the back of her neck and into her cropped hair – it had been years since a man had done that, since she'd shivered at somebody's touch. She'd worn it that way for so long now, slightly darker than her own colour, short, curled; she always thought it looked okay. Now, she thought it made her look old and past-it. Maybe she was – worn out.
Forty-six years old and rapidly approaching mid-life doom and gloom. Nothing to look forward to. Little to look back on.
"You ready mum?" Anna asked, coming into the bedroom.
At nineteen and a year into her University course Anna, meanwhile, was blossoming into a beautiful, intelligent young lady. In some ways she envied her energy and drive; she envied the life that lay ahead of her. All new. All unblemished.
"You're not even dressed."
"I can't find anything to wear."
"Don't be silly you've got a wardrobe full of stuff." She said, flinging open the door. "And we're only going for a walk and some lunch."
"Nothing fits me right."
"You look fine."
"I'm flabby," he pulled at her waist as if to prove a point. "I don't remember being like this."
Anna fell back onto the bed, watching her.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what? I haven't said a thing."
"I know what you're thinking – that I'm eating too much cake and drinking too much wine."
"I'm not living here at the moment so how would I know that?"
Elsie turned to face her daughter, spread out on the bed, skinny and gorgeous.
"True I suppose, but look at you, you're stunningly beautiful!"
"Mum…" Anna groaned.
"I know, I know. You're 19, nothing's sagged yet." She started flipping through things in her wardrobe. "I'm sorry for being grumpy."
"Why are you feeling so insecure?"
Elsie shrugged, pulling out a loose fitting tunic to put on.
"Not because of Dad?"
She shrugged again, looking in the mirror and deciding it was as good as it was going to get.
"Mum," Anna said lowly, fiddling with the pillow on the bed, "You do remember, three years ago, at the zoo?"
"Hmm…" She was putting on mascara, concentrating in the mirror.
"I told you that you should leave him."
She almost poked herself in the eye. "Why on earth would you bring that up?"
"Because you haven't and I don't think you're happy. In fact I think since I left home you're even unhappier. And we both know what's going on mum…"
Elsie's breath caught, her throat seemed to shrink in and tighten cutting off her air…surely, she didn't mean…
"He's cheating mum, we both know that. He has been for years."
She felt the tension relax.
"I don't feel comfortable having that conversation with you."
"I know it isn't comfortable. It's horrible. But it's true and I still think you should leave him."
"Anna…"
"Look I'm not that ten year old kid anymore who thinks Daddy's the most perfect man on the earth. There are other men out there mother, better men."
Elsie huffed, "As if some other man would want me. As if I would even think about looking for another man. Besides it's not that…"
"I think it is, I think you're scared of being alone."
"I'm not."
"You're stronger than you think mum. Not many girls would leave home at nineteen and just go and live in another country with nothing. No plan. No money. You did."
"Scotland's hardly another country."
"Don't put yourself down. You put yourself through college, took an Open University course, you're a great teacher – kids love you, as they should."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Elsie gushed, bowing extravagantly to cover how awkward she was finding this whole thing, how intrusive. It was one thing to beat yourself up about your bad life choices, it was quite another to have your daughter point them out.
"And you raised me."
"Every one has to be allowed one failure."
"Oh shut up!" Anna said, throwing a pillow at her. "I'm being serious."
"I'm fine." Elsie shrugged. "Really. He's hardly even here these days."
"Just think about it will you, for me. You're a sexy lady mum."
"Oh my goodness! Don't say that!"
"It's true. You ought to be with someone who appreciates that, who treats you right."
Present Day
Charles wakes early, the morning summer sun coming in from the tall window, streaming warmth over the foot of the bed.
For a while he lays still and quiet, enjoying the simple pleasure of waking content and comfortable. They were early to bed following their day at the zoo and both asleep pretty much as soon as they'd curled up together.
Elsie still sleeps beside him and he turns to cuddle her, sliding his hands over her stomach, the material of her nightgown bunching beneath his fingers. She's warm and smells delicious; a mixture of the fragrance of soap upon her skin, her shampoo, fading perfume and that intense aroma that comes just from her alone.
Closing his eyes he breathes deeply, inhaling her. He can remember that not too long ago he wouldn't have even dared dream that this could be his realty. His fantasies were simple and restrained: a hope that she'd come in the shop that week; a wish that she might stand and speak with him for longer than before; that her hair would be down and she'd wear blue – a colour which he thought she looked particularly beautiful in.
Now, to be in the position where he can roll over and hold her, is overwhelming. It's a privilege to be allowed to touch her, he thinks, and not one he intends to waste.
He feels her move slightly, her leg shifting and her foot hitting his shin. He kisses the back of her neck – her hair against his face, his hands pressing against her stomach – and closes his eyes, drifting back to seep.
When he wakes again she's gone and he curses himself for not making the most of their morning in bed; they haven't made love since before the argument over Isobel and he misses that passionate intimacy they share.
Monday morning, the start of another working week. He rolls onto his back, arms folded beneath his head and recalls events from the previous day – bounding around with a little girl draped over his shoulders like some kind of idiot. Holding hands with Elsie as they watched Laurel play on the park.
Things, feelings, he'll recall when he's old and reflecting on his life. The moment he first saw her face. The first words she spoke to him. On his couch when she kissed him. In her bed making love.
He can hear her in the kitchen and quickly gets up, walking naked from bedroom to hall to kitchen.
"Good morning," she says without looking round, "see how nice I'm being, breakfast before you go to work, I'm like a 1950's housewife. Charles!" She gasps as she looks up and sees him naked. "What on earth are you doing?"
"I would have thought that was pretty obvious." He says, behind her in three steps, his hands around her waist turning her to face him and kissing her.
She's smiling, despite her palms on his bare chest pushing him back. His mouth slides over her neck, "I thought you had to get up for work."
"Customers can wait fifteen minutes." He mumbles against her skin, pushing up the material of her dress.
She's squeezing his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin, "Fifteen minutes!" She complains and he laughs.
His knees bend as his hands reach beneath her skirt, tugging at her underwear and easing them down her legs. "Why are you dressed so early?" He mutters, kissing her stomach through the fabric of her dress.
"Because I had things to do." Her hands are on his head, in his hair, as he bends before her. She groans when she feels his fingers slide against her, parting her thighs as his mouth moves to kiss her there.
"Charles," she gasps, "wait." And she's squirming around so much he has to stand again, steadying himself with his hands on her waist.
She's pushing a pan of scrambled eggs from the heat and her head is twisted towards the stove, causing her breasts to push forward against his chest. "What are you doing?" he asks, kissing her neck, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, his thumb circling around her nipple.
"Breakfast will burn."
"Let it."
And she gasps again, then giggles as he lifts her up, his hands beneath her bottom, and turns her round until she's sitting back on the kitchen table.
She holds onto his upper arms, "You know when we're in our new house we'll have a whole host of new places to make love in."
"We haven't made love in every spot in this flat, we should definitely do that before we move out." His hands have pushed her dress up out of the way, the material bunching around her bottom.
"Oh really?"
She doesn't mind as he pulls her forward, lifting her legs around his hips, tilting her slightly to get the right angle. They're both giggling like children.
"Really."
And then their mouths meet and all thoughts of breakfast and work disappear. She likes these moments, spontaneous moments of passion when he has to have her. And he's got her bent back on the table and is pounding inside her so deliciously her body can hardly take it. She holds onto him – her head back, mouth open as she moans her pleasure and encouragement.
"God what you do to me," she hears him gasp; one hand firm on her back, the other flat on the table to support himself, if she leans her head back far enough her hair brushes his hand as they move together.
"You feel so good," she breathes, gasps his name, pulls herself forward to hold onto him, hands looping over his shoulders to support herself as she lets her hips grind against him, driving him deeper insider her. "Oh honey, don't stop… don't stop…"
His mouth finds hers again, hungry to taste her; he'd let her consume him if he could. The table is scraping and banging beneath them and it's probably that which drives him over the edge and in seconds her name falls from his mouth and he spills himself inside her. He does his best to maintain some sort of rhythm until he feels her nails dig into his backside and her body reach its sweet climax around him.
And then she's giggling again and he has a lopsided grin on a very flushed face. She's still holding onto him, her legs wrapped tight around his body, and his nose nudges hers until she shifts her face to kiss him.
"Love you," he whispers.
Her hand slides up from the back of his neck to tangle in the short curls of his hair, "Love you too."
She throws the eggs away and starts again, blaming him for the waste, and he showers and dresses as she makes the second batch of breakfast.
When she sits across from him at the table he's chuckling like a schoolboy and spreading out his paper.
"You can stop that," she says, pouring the tea.
"I do hope you washed the table down darling."
She swipes at him with the dishcloth, "Eat your eggs."
"What are you doing today?" He asks, grinding pepper over his breakfast.
"It's my counselling session at 10:00, I figured I'd move it during the summer, may as well get it over with then go out with Anna and Beryl to cheer myself up."
"Going anywhere nice?"
"Party planning," she smiled, twisting in her seat. "Only this week to go."
"Roll on Saturday. You're sure you don't want me to do anything, I feel I've written a cheque and that's it."
"Just rehearse your karaoke song."
"There's no way I'm getting up to sing."
"If I have to do it then you have to do it." She gets up, sliding her hands down over his shoulders, whispering by his ear, "Or there'll be no intimate celebrations when we're on our own."
"Seems a harsh judgement Els…"
She kisses his cheek, her fingers moving over his chest, "Oh but I'll make it worth your while."
"Mmm, I believe that. Where are you meeting them?"
"They're coming here, I said I'd pick them up. I'm going to drive out to the house too, I want to show Anna. You don't mind?"
"Of course not. Any more news?"
"Some more searches back, the solicitor assures me everything is ticking away as it should."
He pushed his breakfast plate away, "I feel I'm not doing anything. You're handling the engagement, the house, all the legal stuff."
"I'm a born organiser… unless you feel I'm taking over?" She said, taking his dishes to the sink.
"Of course not. I don't want you to feel I'm being lazy."
"As if, I'm off work for the summer, I need things to occupy me."
"Come here and occupy me."
With a lopsided smile on her face she threw aside the dishcloth and sauntered towards him, slipping onto his lap, her hands looping behind his neck.
"Yes?"
"Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are?"
"Tell me," she grinned, playful.
"Very," he kissed her neck, "very, very, very…" he covered her neck and chest in kisses, beneath her chin, his fingers tickling her waist – sweet torture as she giggled and twisted at his touch.
She held his face, delighted by the joy she saw there, "I have to get ready and you have to go downstairs to work."
His hands slid down her back, and he pressed his fingertips against her, "I hope it's okay… this morning."
She raised and lowered her shoulders, "It is what it is. At least I have you to come back to."
He smiled, letting her get up from his lap and return to the tidying their dishes.
Charles was mid-way through wrapping an order when Isobel came to visit. She looked sheepish as she pushed open the door, the bell above it jangling, and glanced around the empty shop.
"What are you doing in town so early?" He asked, coming around the counter and kissing her cheek.
"Dentist's appointment, figured I'd drop in and see how you are."
"That's nice, would you like some tea?"
"Sure." She followed him through to the small coffee shop section, taking a seat and watching him make up a tray. "This is lovely you know Charles."
"You approve?"
"Very much so, and it's proving popular I hear?"
"Yes. Thankfully, otherwise the cost would have been a waste." He placed the tray in front of her – a traditional china cup, a small tea pot, two biscuits on the side plate.
"You usually only get one," he said, "but as we're friends."
"Home made too." She noted, pouring her tea.
"Of course; these are Elsie's shortbread though, not mine, she made them Saturday, so afraid I can't take the credit."
She bit into one, "Goodness, they're very good."
"I keep telling her she can cook…" the bell on the shop door interrupted him. "Just be a minute."
When he returned Isobel had eaten both biscuits and was reading the copy of The Times he'd left in there.
"This is a good idea too," she said, "to provide newspapers."
"Now, that was Anna's suggestion."
She nodded thoughtfully, "Nice touch." She folded the paper closed. "You have yourself a family Charles."
He sat down, surprised by the softness of his voice, the certainty of it. "I do. Finally." He reached to touch her hand, "That's not to say you and Richard aren't still my family, goodness knows we've been friends too long for it to disappear."
"I know." She shrugged, shaking her head; "I fear I upset Elsie the other night. I forget myself, ask too many questions, take over."
"We all have to get used to things. Believe me I'm still getting used to it," he smiled, "But I love every second."
She squeezed his hand in return, "Good. I am happy, to see you so happy I mean."
They were still holding hands when Elsie came in through the back door, pale and distracted as she always was after an hour in her therapist's company. She caught herself when she saw them there, stopping by the door, her bag slipping from her shoulder to land heavily on her wrist.
"Darling," he smiled, getting up, moving to grip her upper arms and kiss her cheek. "Did it go okay?" he whispered by her ear and she gave him a slight nod.
"Morning Isobel," she said, shaking off the dark thoughts that had travelled home with her.
"Good morning Elsie, you look very nice. I really like that dress."
"Thank you, I got it in Italy."
"Beautiful colour, very summery. And your shortbread was simply gorgeous…"
Charles saw the confusion passing over Elsie's face, though she hid it as quickly as it appeared; poor Isobel, over compensating really did her no favours neither.
"Are you doing anything nice today?"
"Erm, going to the party venue and just to get a few last minute things for Saturday. Make sure all is on track."
"On your own?"
"With my daughter and my friend."
"I'm looking forward to meeting your daughter – will she be there Saturday?"
"She will indeed, no doubt looking stunning."
"As will you," Charles assured her, taking Isobel's tray from the table and over to the sink behind her.
"We'll probably go for lunch first." Elsie added, glancing at her watch, "they should be here soon actually."
"Going somewhere lovely?"
"We haven't decided…" she bit her bottom lip, the question weighing heavily as she turned it over momentarily in her mind. "You can join us, if you like."
Charles watched her, keenly aware of the effort the offer cost.
Isobel swallowed, her voice quieter, "I'd like that very much."
"Thank you," Charles mouthed over Isobel's head.
"Good, I'll just go freshen up my make-up then we can go."
Elsie had chosen Rudding Park for the party, hiring the Jupiter Room – in her mind it would make the perfect venue for their wedding and it didn't harm to test it out first. If they married there guests could stay for the weekend, enjoy the golf or spa treatments, they could marry in the chapel and not have to travel. Charles had his heart set on his church but perhaps if he saw other options they'd discuss it.
She'd booked a room for them to spend the night in following the party, though he didn't know about that, in fact most of what she'd planned would be a surprise. Buffet food and then a late night supper, outdoor karaoke, fireworks – she figured if Isobel could host extravagance then she could too.
"You don't think you're going overboard do you mum?" Anna teased as they walked the driveway to the venue. "Gold balloons lining the entrance."
"Don't forget the candles." Beryl added with a snigger.
A metre in front of them Elsie turned glaring, her hands on her hips. "I want it to be special, one doesn't have an engagement party every day. And besides that, it's Charles' birthday, the first one with us properly together, last year I only got him a card, I want this one to be memorable."
"It'll be that alright." Beryl said glancing around the fancy gardens.
"I think it's lovely here Elsie," Isobel said, swinging her handbag as she made her way farther up the driveway. "I think he'll love it."
"No doubt he'll love it," Anna teased, moving behind Elsie and standing on her tiptoes so she could rest her hands heavily on her shoulders. "Because mummy did it, and he loves everything she does."
"Perhaps some things more than others."
"Beryl!" Elsie shushed, whacking her with her handbag.
"Ow. That hurt."
"Then behave." She paused, staring up at the building, "Do you think I've really gone too over-the-top? It is only an engagement party after all."
"Nonsense." Isobel insisted. "It will be wonderful. And it's more than just an engagement party, believe me, he's waited a very long time to have a moment like this, I'm all for it."
"Thank you Isobel," Elsie smiled turning to the other two, "see, it's fine. Now let's go see the room and check on layout."
"Perhaps we should take afternoon tea here," Isobel suggested, "instead of going elsewhere for lunch… That is of course, if you haven't already arranged anything Elsie."
"No." she said softly, ignoring Beryl's quizzical look at the exchange, "No that's a good idea. Perhaps you could ask about it whilst I show Anna the venue."
"Of course."
"So, I wanted to tell you something." Anna said to her mother's back, watching as she made her way around the tables laid out in the room.
Elsie dropped the napkins she was looking at, her throat tightening, good god she didn't want to hear the words, 'Pregnant' or 'Engaged' passing Anna's lips. Or 'moving in together' neither, come to think of it.
"I saw Dad."
Nor that.
She turned slowly, "Oh."
"That's it?"
Elsie shrugged, "I don't know what else to say, I knew you would in time, he's your father, you should see him."
"He isn't a good man mum, I do know that, I'm not stupid."
"Far from it." She started moving around the room, glancing at place settings.
"Mum, we do need to talk about this."
"Let's talk about whether you think it's completely ridiculous of me to have this karaoke thing instead, that's a more comfortable chat."
"We've never really faced it, and I think we need to." She said forcefully.
"Here though, Anna, really?" She said, finally turning to face her, her cheeks burning.
Anna bit her lip, one hand resting on the back of a chair and squeezing and Elsie realised how like her she was starting to look, as she got older the closer they seemed to become in likeness.
It was awkward and uncomfortable at times, admitting that your 'child' was no longer an adolescent. Anna was an adult, and she knew more than she and Elsie discussed. "Maybe we could go for a walk in the gardens." She suggested.
They left Isobel and Beryl having tea and cake on the patio and wandered off into the walled garden, admiring the roses for a while before they were far enough away from anybody to hear.
Elsie stopped by a bench that sat at the top of a grassy bank, "Here?" She suggested, indicating it with her hand.
"Sure."
They sat down; Elsie leant back, fiddling with the contents of her handbag, Anna sat forward, her hands resting on her knees.
"I know what he used to do mum."
Elsie breathed deeply, her heart pounding in her chest, she knew it was time they had this talk, it was years overdue, but that didn't make it any easier.
Still, despite how difficult the counselling had been it was getting better, she was getting better. And facing up to things she'd rather bury was healthier than pretending it never existed.
"I'm assuming you're referring to the fact your father used to rape me…" She said, as quick as ripping off a band aid.
Anna sucked in a tight breath and leant even further forward, burying her head in her hands and then Elsie's heart broke as she heard the unmistakeable sound of sobbing.
"Oh sweetheart," she placed her hand on her back, chewing on her bottom lip to stop herself from dissolving in tears too. "Please don't."
Anna moved slightly, lifted her head up a little and Elsie took the opportunity to draw her body to her, pressing her head against her chest and cradling her as she kissed her hair. "Please don't cry, it's over now and he's not worth it, I don't want you to cry over it."
"I didn't help." Anna mumbled against her mum's jacket. "I'm so sorry for that."
"Baby," she pushed her back, the parallels of her feelings towards her own mother startling to her. "You must never, ever think that. You were a child and you didn't understand, for goodness sake I was an adult, your mother, and I didn't understand. I should have been the one protecting you from all that." She felt her eyes filling up as she looked at her daughter, remembering that timid little thing dancing in the living room, and being a child herself and wanting so very much for her mother to have the courage to walk away.
"My relationship with your father is so very complicated, for many reasons, the physical element of it just one bit. But I am sorry you grew up in a house where things were never just straightforward and happy."
"I was happy. I had a very happy childhood, thanks to you, and despite what was happening," she hiccupped, gripping her mother's hands. "I always felt so secure and safe, you gave me…" she hiccupped again, "a really solid grounding."
"Thank you for saying that." She pulled her to her again and kissed her forehead. "It's not easy to just apportion blame though, I don't think it's that clear cut."
"It is to me," Anna said forcefully. "I hate him for it."
"As much as I could celebrate that fact he is still your father."
"Yes. And I'm struggling with that."
"Maybe… maybe it would help for us to have a session together, you could come to one of mine and we could talk things through with the counsellor."
Anna nodded. "Okay. But I don't want to be talked at with bullshit phrases about forgiveness and moving on."
Elsie smiled, brushing Anna's fringe out of her eyes. "Alright." She paused, licked her lips, Anna still snuffling. "What happened? When you saw him?"
She sighed, "Sarah lost the baby. They're back together but that's the third miscarriage and… I guess he wanted me to know."
"That's terrible. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Not even Joe."
"That's because you're kind."
"Sometimes."
"I'm so glad you've met Charles, have I told you that? Because he's such a good man."
"I know. I realise how lucky I am." She rubbed her arms, noting the shiver passing over her as they sat there. "You know he adores you too don't you. I think he's already beginning to see you like a daughter. Would you mind that?"
"Of course not. He's lovely. And I'm so grateful to him for this job and… well, you'll hate it, but for John too." She noted Elsie's strained expression. "I know you hate the idea of it, but he is great mum, he's being lovely to me. I really feel this is going to be something serious."
Anna moved slightly, resting her head against Elsie's arm, the last time they'd snuggled together it had been in Elsie's bed in the old apartment following their meal with Charles – the first time Anna had met him. She remembered how sad her mum had been that night, how lost, it struck her then that at any age you can still struggle to find your way and realise what's the best path to take.
"You deserve to be happy with Charles mum," she said gently, her voice somewhat muffled against Elsie's jacket. "And as much as I joked this is a lovely place and he will love the party."
"Thank you," she kissed Anna's head. "I suppose you'd like to bring John with you."
"I would, but I won't if it'll upset things. We're only just dating, it's still early I know, but I feel more for him than any previous boyfriend."
It surprised her that she already thought of it as her 'boyfriend', that things seemed to be progressing so fast. "I don't know the man so I can't hate him I just don't want you to rush into something you'll later regret."
"Like you did, you mean."
She sighed – yes exactly like that. "Sweetheart, my childhood wasn't easy."
"I know. The bits you've told me about it, your Dad was controlling wasn't he?"
She closed her eyes, flashes of images of her parents, of herself – what a day is was turning out to be. "Anna there's a reason you never met either of your Grandparents, a reason I didn't want anything to do with them. That's hard for me to admit to you, to talk about, you see my father used to beat my mother, quite badly and I knew. And I couldn't do anything to stop it."
As she opened her eyes again, the brightness of the early afternoon sun seemed blinding and she blinked against the light. There was a dull buzzing in her ears, her own blood beating so fast, so loud. The relevance of 'couldn't' as opposed to 'didn't' seemed of such magnitude.
She felt Anna's hand squeeze her waist holding her tighter. The buzzing in her ears died down as she breathed and she tilted her head back to let the sun caress her face, the light breeze in the trees behind them, the rustling of green leaves and pink rhododendrons above her.
"I think that's why I married your dad. In fact," she lifted her head forward again, glancing down at where her daughter was pressed against her. "I know it's why I married him. He promised me an escape from that rigid, terrifying world. He was the only person I'd ever told about it, the first time I'd spoken of it to anybody and somehow that gave him power over me..."
"But I know now." Anna said reassuringly.
"And Charles. And he's helped me so much; I have dreams…" she didn't want to go into detail about it, not here, not with the beauty of this English garden around them. "He's always there, always listens."
"I'm glad."
"But I don't want you to think that's why I'm marrying him, that I'm lurching from one crutch to another."
"Mum, of course I don't think that." Anna sat up, brushing her tears away, looking at her mum's calm face. "I can see how well suited you are."
"You see darling I don't want the cycle repeated, my mother had a miserable life because she chose the wrong man, so did I, thirty years of it, I'm only now finding that life doesn't have to be all doom and gloom and living on your nerves. I want you to make the right choice."
"I'm not going to rush into marriage mum. And dating John doesn't mean I've forgotten what I want. I still want a career, I'm still applying for positions."
"I'm so very proud of you."
"I know, you've told me that all my life."
"Well I am, whatever you do, whether it's getting your masters or mastering the art of colouring inside the lines."
Anna giggled. "I'm guessing I got that one quite early on?"
"By about six you were perfect at it." She smiled warmly, filled with such deep love for her child. "Even though this hasn't been a particularly pleasant conversation it was about time we had it."
Anna nodded, rubbing her eyes again, "I think we should go have a drink."
"Me too. In fact let's have champagne, we never did get to toast my engagement together." She rolled her eyes and Anna blushed.
"Oh god don't remind me of that night," she moaned getting to her feet, "mortifying."
Beryl and Isobel were chatting animatedly as they returned to them, holding hands and smiling.
"All okay?" Beryl asked, glancing at her friend's face.
"Yes, all okay." Elsie assured her. "We thought we'd spoil ourselves and order champagne."
"Oh let me get it," Isobel offered, already digging in her bag for her purse. "Please, I do so want to apologise to you for the other night."
As Elsie took the seat across from her she felt her expression change into surprise and did her best to cover it quickly.
"I know I was rude," Isobel offered, "And I know I'm nosey, Richard tells me all the time, and I'm protective of Charles and I'm sure I'll do or say something again that's uncalled for… but I don't mean it to be nasty, really. So let me get it."
Elsie nodded and Isobel got up, heading inside to find the bar.
"So, are there sandwiches left for us?" Anna asked.
"The salmon ones are lovely." Beryl added, reaching to where Elsie's hand lay on the table and squeezing it. "You okay love?"
"Yes, a day of revelations it seems. But I'm fine."
"Good. Then dig in, eat something. And tell us about this karaoke, should I prepare a song?"
"Of course," she smiled, placing finger sandwiches onto her plate. "In fact more than one might be nice."
"Maybe we could duet." Beryl suggested, selecting a cake from the display.
"Maybe we could do a girl group thing," Anna laughed. "You'd have to be Ginger Spice though Aunty Beryl."
"I do have the boobs for it."
They were all laughing as Isobel returned followed by a waiter with champagne and four glasses.
"What's so funny?" She asked as he poured.
"We're talking about the karaoke at the party." Anna said.
"Oh, I love karaoke!" She exclaimed, "I've wanted to have one at the games nights for years."
"I think I remember Charles mentioning that."
"Such great fun, what will you sing?"
"I have one song lined up to sing to Charles, but that's a surprise. Other than that I will just see where the night takes me."
"We must do 'I will survive'," Isobel said, lifting her champagne glass, "it's such a great song."
"Empowering women." Anna said, glancing at Elsie. "Let's have a toast, to my wonderful mother on finding the love her life and becoming Mrs Carson."
They all knocked their glasses together and took a drink.
"You know I was wandering around the shops in town the other day and I was in this little jewellery shop, just local made things, nothing extravagant. And there was this silver bangle with an inscription on it – it said, 'I met a man who stole my heart and changed my name to Mrs.' And as I was standing there holding it I thought, there would have been a time I would have hated the implication of that statement, the idea of ownership, but now I find it endearingly sweet."
"Did you buy it?" Isobel asked.
"No. I'm not Mrs yet, I didn't want to jump the gun."
"Oh I don't think there's any danger of him changing his mind." Beryl chuckled, "Not with the hold you have over him."
"Now don't start that again, you make me out some sort of vixen."
"I'm just saying, Charlie is enamoured. I bet he's never had a sex life like it!"
Anna laughed, and Elsie blushed, shushing Beryl, "Stop it," she indicated Isobel with her chin, "you're embarrassing me."
"Oh come on Mum, we all know it's a very healthy part of any relationship. It's just that luckily for you too it works quite well."
"Anna!" She looked across the table to Isobel, "I'm so sorry about them, there is more to mine and Charles' relationship than sex."
"Don't worry about it," She smiled, "I don't think Richard and I got out of bed for the first five years of our marriage, hence my having four children."
They're all laughing again as Isobel refills their champagne glasses.
When Charles wearily closed the shop for the day and made his way upstairs he could smell roast chicken coming from the kitchen and it made him smile. Elsie had come home a few hours earlier slightly tipsy but smiling – she'd had to leave the car at the party venue (which amused him no end) after consuming one too many glasses of wine. And Bill had picked them all up and dropped them home.
Getting himself a glass of lemonade he followed the sound of her singing – she was in the shower and he eased open the bathroom door and leant back against it listening as she merged from one song to the other, seamlessly.
'Love soft as an easy chair; love fresh as the morning air. One love that is shared by two, I have found with you.'
He smiled, her voice was clear and strong, and she sounded happy. She paused, as she turned beneath the water, suds dripping down her back.
'You and I will make each night first, every day a beginning.'
He wondered briefly if this was her karaoke song, if he'd interrupted her rehearsal, she'd be upset if he heard it before the night. He put down his empty glass and began to take off his shirt.
'Time we've learned to sail above, time wont change the meaning of, one love…'
By the time she was breathing for the last note Charles was opening the cubicle door and sliding his hand down her back. Far from being shocked at the intrusion she leant back against him, finishing the song, '…ageless and ever, ever green.'
He kissed the side of her face, until she twisted her neck and moved her mouth to meet his.
"Tell me I just didn't spoil a surprise."
"No. Just warming up."
"Good." He moved his mouth over her neck, across her shoulder blades.
"I do hope you've been rehearsing though, I'm getting very excited."
"Mmm, so am I," he said squeezing her bottom.
"Not about that," she slapped at his hands, turning and letting him enfold her in his arms. "The venue looks beautiful and the girls seemed to like it."
"The girls? Are we a group now?"
"We were today."
"And it went well?"
"All is fine with Isobel, if that's what you're wondering. She was very nice, even apologised and bought champagne."
"Sounds like Izzy."
She looped her hands around his neck, swaying against him, "Interesting chat with Anna though." She breathed deeply, remembering, "She saw Joe."
"Oh?"
"That's what I said. He's with Sarah again but she lost the baby, it's their third miscarriage."
"That's awful for her."
"I said that too." She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "But Anna asked me about… well, we spoke of what happened between her father and myself."
"How so?"
She pressed her face against his chest, feeling the warm water cascade around them.
"It's the first time we've openly discussed the fact he raped me, in fact I think it was probably the first time I've used the word outside of the counselling room."
He closed his eyes, resting his chin on her head, in an odd way grateful.
"And how did she react?"
"Tears. Cuddling. She already knew, in a way, I think she'd always suspected. But I'm glad it's out in the open now, as horrible as it was." She pulled back to look at him again, "I think she might come to one of my sessions."
"That sounds a good idea."
"And then we spoke of the party and cheered ourselves up with alcohol and cake."
He smiled, "Will John be joining us?"
Elsie sighed, glancing up at him, "Of course Anna wants him to come, but she also phrased it by saying she'd leave him at home if it upset me – so really I have little choice but for him to come. And he is your brother after all."
"He is. Though Richard is closer."
"Families are a messy business."
"They are indeed. Good job we're in the shower."
"Ha, ha."
"How long until that chicken's done?"
She smirked, twisting her mouth to one side, "An hour or so, why?"
As out-of-place as it was she couldn't help but think of Beryl as she straddled Charles in their bed, watching his wide-eyed joyful expression, vixen indeed!
Pushing the thought away she leant forward to kiss him, feeling his eager hands cup her breasts, massaging, palms sliding over her sensitive nipples. He groaned deeply as she rolled her hips back, leaning back to give herself a better angle, her knees pressing against the bed.
Her body rose up and then slowly back down and he gasped sharply, gripping her legs, a slow smile on his face. She was too good at this.
"Should I stop?" she whispered naughtily, leaning forward, her forehead to his.
"Never."
She took her time, driving him to the point of climax and then stopping, deliberately slowing things down until he was panting and calling out her name as he begged for release.
"God you're good," his heart swelled with the sweet torture of it. "So very good for me."
"For you, or to you?" She asked as she kissed his chest.
"In every way." He slid his hands into her damp hair, lifting her face to his, stroking his thumbs across her cheeks. "And so beautiful too."
She smiled, eyes sparkling, lifting her body until he slipped out of her and his brow furrowed momentarily at the loss of her touch.
But then she was moving to the side of him and encouraging him on top of her, her thighs parting eagerly around him, legs hooked over his hips as he drove inside her.
After, he lay behind her, holding her, eyes closed – content and on the verge of sleep. And then he realised she was crying, silent tears spilling down her face, muffled sobs, and he didn't know why. It scared him, and he sat up, leaning over her, "Elsie," he said, his voice wavering. "Els, darling… Did I hurt you?"
She was shaking her head and smiling through her tears, her hands coming to rest on his. "No, you never could."
He kissed her head, her face, "My darling Elspeth…"
She flopped onto her back again, wrapped her arms around him, crying openly now, letting the sobs shake through her body as she held onto him.
He let her cry, holding her to him, waiting until she was free of it. Weeks of restraint and tension coming free, untangling. She should have cried that night, when she'd finally confronted her ex-husband and cut the shackles. She should have cried during her counselling sessions. She should have cried with Anna.
But she hadn't. She wouldn't. Couldn't.
But now – there with him loving her, so close and intimate and secure, she let go.
Four Years Ago
Settling herself down on the sofa Elsie curled her legs beneath her and pulled the blanket over them.
A Saturday night in February, there'd been heavy snowfall a few days earlier, and she had her wine, snacks and Out of Africa in the DVD player, ready to escape into a world dominated by Streep and sunshine.
She was only twenty minutes into the movie when Joe came home. Wet and exhausted from working on the farm. He trudged around the kitchen and she paused the film, getting up and going through to him.
"Do you want me to get you something to eat?" She asked gently. He looked exhausted and she felt protective of him, still, after all those years. "A sandwich?"
He seemed to see her for the first time in a while, and nodded as he slipped into a chair by the table, watching her as she opened the fridge and dug out what she'd need.
He'd lost crops that winter, heavy rains leading up to Christmas and now frost and snow. He was worried, she knew that, and his concerns made him almost vulnerable.
"You look good, I mean, you hair, going lighter suits you."
She scraped butter across his bread. "Thank you." He hadn't paid her a compliment in many, many years. "You want mustard?"
"Yes please." She heard him get up, open the fridge and take out a beer. "We heard from Anna?"
"Just a text, I'm sure she's fine, the University are quite good about checking on their students wellbeing. I've told her not to drive home this weekend though, leave it a week or so."
"Good idea."
She placed the plate in front of him. "You want anything else?"
"No, that's good thanks. What are you up to?"
"Watching a movie, I didn't expect you home…" She said, they both knew what it meant, he had clearly been seeing someone for a while now and most nights didn't even come home.
She left him to eat when he didn't respond and returned to her film.
Halfway through it he came in to the dark, warm room, smelling fresh from a bath, and slipped onto the bottom of the sofa to watch with her. She shifted her feet to make room but he lifted them into his lap and for a while rubbed her heels.
It had been a long time since he'd touched her – in any way – and even longer since he'd touched her with any ounce of gentleness. Her body remembered it, those early years of marriage where being together was treated with reverence, though her mind struggled to understand why.
The room seemed still and as if it had closed in on them, cradling them in the warmth it held against the frozen earth outside.
In time she got up for the bathroom and when she returned he was lying down, his eyes closed, one arm folded beneath his head. She had little choice than to either lie with him or take the chair. So she squashed beside him, feeling his arm drape over her waist, the blanket being pulled over her legs.
When he kissed her she was surprised. Kissing was a thing of the past. She'd forgotten it even existed; sex with him had been just the act of it for so many years. The touch of his lips, his tongue caressing hers, it was almost like dating again, like being seduced again – and her body enjoyed it, for the first time in so very long.
His back was pressed against the back of the couch and her body pressed against his; her knee sneaking between his legs, his hands trailing down her back, gathering up her dressing gown in his fingers, exposing her skin inch by inch.
"Joe," she suddenly breathed against his lips.
"Mm…" He breathed huskily.
"I just," she moaned as his fingers moved over her breast, his palms feather light over her nipples.
"What is it?" He whispered.
"I know," she placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly so he was forced to stop kissing her. "I don't want this to sound awkward, or like I'm nagging…"
His brow furrowed, "But?"
"But I also know what's being going on, well, for years now…the other women. I'm not trying to start some kind of confrontation over that and right now I do want to make love to you… But I'd prefer it if we used protection…"
Her words seemed to quell any passion he'd found for her.
For several moments he stared at her and as the seconds ticked by she worried what was to come. She worried she'd gone too far and soon the gentle caress they'd just shared would be forgotten and replaced by force and domination.
But no. He simply let go of her body and slipped out of her embrace, getting up from the couch and leaving her lying there alone. Confused and cold.
Three weeks later he left her, telling her Sarah was pregnant.
Sometimes she wonders, if that woman hadn't fallen pregnant would she still be living that life of lies?
I promise - party time in the next chapter!