Gotta start with an apology - I promised the 'party' but I got really into writing Charles' birthday that I thought it deserved a chapter to itself. So the engagement party will be next time - hope you forgive me... and Dee, I hope you forgive me too! xx.

Chapter 32

Eight Years Ago

Lying alone in the bed Charles couldn't help but judge the décor – lilac walls, some hideously designed wallpaper on the far one and a bookcase with old teddy bears lined across the top of it.

Hard to believe he had just had sex with this woman. This forty-two year old woman. And average sex at that. And that's how she decorated her bedroom.

Sometimes he wonders how he gets himself into these positions. He'd been on six dates with her, six tolerable dates, and he'd known since date two she wasn't for him – they hardly had shared interests, she babbled on non-stop about every topic under the sun and the more she said the less interested he became. It wasn't that she wasn't a nice woman, she was a very nice lady, but he just couldn't find any real passion for her. Which was ironic really, considering where he now was.

She was blonde, petite, well-educated. Just not for him. And now he seemed to have got himself into an even worse mess by going to bed with her. He knew it was entirely his fault. She'd invited him for a drink, he'd said yes, they'd kissed on the couch and then hormones had taken over and here he was. Feeling like he was in fully-fledged relationship with a woman who seemed to aggravate him the longer he spent with her.

And he'd meant to end it tonight. Let her down easy.

"Here we are," she said, coming into the room with two glasses of Prosecco – he hated the fizzy stuff, gave him indigestion.

"Thanks Dee," he pulled himself into a sitting position and took the glass from her.

As she settled in beside him, pressing her head against his shoulder, he wondered how much longer he'd have to stay – could he get away with an hour then make his excuses, or would this be an all-nighter and then the awkward conversation the following morning?

"It's really nice to have you here," she said, swirling the wine in her glass. "Nice not to be alone."

Lord knows he knew what that felt like. He'd been alone long enough to understand where she was coming from – loneliness, he had decided many years ago, was the most terrible affliction you could suffer from. There was no chemist to buy medication; no doctor to seek medical help; only yourself and your own internal battle – get out there, meet people – good advice, but not if you didn't know where to start or what you were looking for.

He drank his wine down in one.

Maybe this is what the majority of people did, they settled. Maybe not all married couples could be as perfectly suited as Richard and Isobel, maybe some people just found someone who didn't detest them and get a ring on the finger to seal the deal before they found themselves alone again.

Perhaps he was the one in the wrong – continuously searching for more. Possibly he had to just 'settle'.

The phrase 'rolling about with laughter' seemed to have been made for Richard as he delighted in Charles' embarrassment.

"Bloody hell, you're going to be fifty years old next week and you're fumbling about with some woman who takes teddy bears to bed."

"She didn't actually bring them to bed."

"No, maybe not, but then she had this teddy bear instead didn't she." He teased, prodding Charles' belly.

"Quit it, I don't need reminding of my expanding waistline thanks very much." He took a swig of his beer. "It's not the teddy bears that bother me, it's how I'm going to break it off now without coming across as a complete bastard."

"You lothario."

Charles rolled his eyes; "In my defence it's been two years since I'd even got close to having sex so forgive me if my body took over."

"You bringing her to the party next week?"

"I don't know. I don't really want to, that'll just convince her we're meant to be. I feel like I'm the last chance saloon guy. Which is awful to say."

"You do get yourself into some shit."

"Just because you hit a home run on the first attempt."

Richard nodded, "Very true. Is there nobody else you like?"

"Hmm, not really." He glanced down at the dregs of beer in his glass, swirling it around.

"I saw that look, someone you've got your eye on?"

"No. There isn't. Really." He emptied his glass. "Drink up and I'll get us another."

"You fancy someone."

"It's silly. Just a customer I like."

Richard's eyes widened and he leant across the table towards his friend, "Now we're talking, go on."

"Nothing will come of it, she's married." Charles dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Oh. Let down."

"Isn't it? She's been coming into the shop for years."

"And you like her?"

Charles shrugged, looking into his glass again, then smiled. "Yes, I like her. She's funny. She talks to me. You know how I struggle to make 'first contact' with women; I didn't feel like that with her. I feel at ease with her, I just need to find that with a single woman now."

"What a shame."

"It is. Her I would bring to the party."

"Don't let Isobel know you know by the way, she'll kill me for ruining the surprise."

"As if I wouldn't suspect a surprise party for my fiftieth."

"She'll be disappointed you know, your turning up without a lady on your arm."

"Maybe. But it is the story of my life."

Rushing to the shop door eager to be out of the rain Elsie twisted the handle and pushed the door only to clumsily bang her shoulder into it and bounce back after making contact with the glass.

She was rubbing her arm and trying to hide her rather flushed cheeks when the door opened in front of her and she fell into the man holding it open.

"I'm so sorry," they said in unison.

She laughed.

He smiled.

"Sorry, come inside out of the rain."

"Thank you," she shook off the excess water from her jacket. "Summer shower. I thought I'd come here and wait it out, have a read." She glanced around. "Are you closed?"

"Yes. Sorry. I closed early today."

"Oh. Any particular reason?"

"Well, I er… It's my birthday."

"Is it? Goodness I am sorry, and I've interrupted you."

"I was just cashing up, and then going for a shower, having a meal with friends tonight."

"That's lovely."

"Yes. I had a surprise party last Saturday. Only it wasn't a surprise. Because I knew." He jabbered on, aware of his own awkward demeanour.

"That's even better, is it a special birthday?"

"Fifty."

"Wow, congratulations."

He chuckled, "You're not going to tell me I don't look fifty or that I'm young for my age?"

For a moment she bit her lip, eyes narrow as she tried to work out whether he was joking or not.

"I can say that," she finally said, "if you'd like me too. But then you'll have to return the favour."

He laughed at that, holding out his hand, "Deal."

She took it and shook his hand with hers, surprised at the warmth of his palm. "Deal. Though that does mean you have to keep your store going for at least another seven years."

"My, you don't look forty-three!"

She giggled at his quick-thinking.

"And you have to be a customer for another seven years." He added, delighted at the joyful sound coming from her.

"Oh I think I can manage that. Well," she took her hand from his, pulling her handbag further up her arm. "I suppose I ought to go and let you get ready. I hope you have a very enjoyable evening."

"Thank you."

He seemed rooted to the spot as he watched her walk to the door, the shower had passed and the sunshine bright again outside.

"Oh," she glanced over her shoulder at him, "and Happy Birthday."

As she waved goodbye passing by the window he reflected on how right he was to break things off with Dee; yes it was hard being alone, but until he found someone who made his stomach lurch with just a simple wave of her hand then it was a far better option.

Present Day

Charles woke to the wondrous feeling of Elsie's mouth on his chest, her hands between his legs stroking him awake.

He lay there still and relatively silent, immersed in the feel of her giving him pleasure, and the mixture of pride and joy that came with knowing she was enjoying that. He let out a long sigh of enjoyment, the warm air passing over his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them, and her fingers sliding around his growing erection to cup his balls, stroking the delicate skin there, finding the right spot that made his erratic breathing slip into a full-throated moan.

Smiling she slid her body on top of his, rising up over his chest until she was nibbling on his chin and he was chuckling.

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and sucked gently and the sensation made him groan again.

There were things she knew about bringing men pleasure; Joe was in no way backwards about telling her what he liked and what she should do. With him he had always been a chore, felt almost shameful, but not with Charles – with him it brought her as much pleasure as it did him. To please the man she loved just as he pleased her.

"Happy Birthday," she whispered, dotting kisses across his chest. "My wonderful man."

A wide smile filled his face and he folded his arms beneath his head and slowly opened his eyes. He jerked beneath her when he spotted two giant balloons bobbing about at the side of the bed – a 'Happy Birthday' one and an elephant.

"What the bloody hell?"

She was laughing, pressing her hands on his shoulders to press him down.

"What's all this? Never woken up to balloons on my birthday."

"Never had me waking you up on your birthday before."

"Unfortunately not," he reached around her, sliding his hands down her spine, the silk of her nightgown shifting beneath his fingers as he reached to cup her bottom.

"So, breakfast first or presents?" She asked teasingly, wiggling against him.

"Can't I have this instead? Is this one of my presents?"

"One of? You think you're getting more than one?"

"If my present was just this…" he squeezed again. "…I'd be more than satisfied with it."

"Oh, you would, would you? I'd wish I'd known before I spent money."

He folded his arms around her again, pressing her body tight against his, "Do you know how many years I've woken up alone on my Birthday, lying her contemplating the fact another year of my life has gone by regardless and I've accomplished nothing more than I had the year before."

"Charles…"

"No, it's true. And now I wake up to you, and this wondrous feeling of completion."

"Sweetheart," she stroked his hair back, brushing her fingers through it.

"Terrible thing being lonely you know Els."

"I do know that honey, believe me. But you're not lonely now, nor will you be again."

"Thanks to you." He drew his hand into her hair, tilting his mouth up to meet his, nudging noses as they smiled and their lips melted together.

Then she was moving down his body again, and adrenaline shot through him at his understanding of her intentions. She took her time and he breathed deeply and slowly, committing to memory every single nuance of the moment.

"I'm fifty-eight today," he said to the room and he heard her smile, just as the sheets above him lifted and rustled, and the warmth of her breath danced over the tip of his penis.

"Darling…" he whispered, sliding a hand into her hair, feeling her tongue stroke around him and then down his length. "God, Elsie…"

"Mmm?" She hummed and the vibrations made his groin jerk against her.

"Don't stop." He grinned down at her, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

"I didn't intend to."

"I think I should return the favour." He said later, when he'd come down from his high and was lying breathless and sated beside her.

"It isn't my birthday."

"Oh believe me, I'll enjoy it as much as you will." He said, rolling over and already beginning to trail kisses over her stomach.

"Honey," she rested her hand on his back and squeezed over his shoulder blade. "Not a great time of the month for such activities."

"Oh," he stopped, looking up at her, his chin on her belly.

"But we'll leave it as a rain check."

"Absolutely." He kissed her stomach, moving back up her body until he reached her mouth. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Elsie dressed quickly, leaving Charles in the shower, and set about making breakfast.

She'd piled the birthday cards he'd received on the kitchen table and hid her presents in the hallway; she planned to spend the entire day spoiling him – so far, it appeared to be going well.

"Mmm, hello beautiful," he said, kissing her neck, arms snaking around her waist.

"Hello. Nice shower?"

"A-ha."

"How do you want your eggs?"

"How do you think?" His mouth was still working along her neck and shoulders.

"I thought so, you have to let me move and fill the kettle."

"Not yet."

"Charles, your bacon will burn."

He smiled, struggling to remember a time beyond childhood when someone made him breakfast simply because it was his birthday. "Did you agree to marry me?" he said playfully, and she twisted her head round to look at him.

"I think I might have yes."

"Hmm, how lucky am I?"

"Incredibly." She kissed him quickly, "Now go sit down and open your cards so I can finish this."

He did as she requested, standing them along the back of the kitchen table as he went.

"So, I have yet another treat for you today." She said as she served up the bacon. "We're going somewhere relaxing, just the two of us."

"Aren't I at work?" He said, balling the envelopes and tossing them into the recycling bin.

"No honey, it's your birthday, Anna can take care of the shop – she's already agreed. We're going to spend they day relaxing together... at a spa."

"A what?"

"A spa. And before you worry it's all nail polish and face masks there are plenty of other things to do – walking in the grounds, have a round of golf…" She dished up his eggs and put his breakfast in front of him. "Hire bikes if you wish." She sat down across from him, pouring the tea. "I've booked you in for a massage in the afternoon, well a couple's massage actually because how dull would it be if I just sat and watched!"

He laughed, "It sounds wonderful."

"You're okay with it? I don't want you to feel miserable and just do it for me."

"I can think of nothing better than going to this spa with you. Thank you for booking it, never done one before – and at my age it's good to find there are things I haven't done."

"You're not going to dwell on your age all day are you?" She asked buttering her toast.

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "And dinner?" He asked. "Do we have that planned too?"

"Would you like to go out? I haven't booked anywhere, I thought it might be nice to just…"

"…Stay here and hide away?" He suggested.

"Yes." She sat across from him, "We could invite friends if you wanted."

"Nonsense. We'll be surrounded by people on Saturday, I'd rather just have you to myself."

"I'm completely at your disposal…" She teased, holding her arms open wide.

"Don't tempt me. The plan might be revised to spend the day with you tied to my bed."

"Tied?" she raised her eyebrows and glared, "Really?"

"You know what I mean." He put his fork down, "As always perfect eggs."

"Shifting the subject."

He grinned, settling back in his chair and pointing at his cards, "So, I er, I think I'm missing one."

"Oh really, if it's Anna she said hers would come with her."

"No." he folded his arms, "It's not Anna's."

"Alright. What do you want first?" She asked, dabbing her mouth on her napkin. "Card or presents?"

"Card. Let's do it right." He said rubbing his hands together.

Getting up she quickly went to the hall and returned with his card and a small box-shaped package; she handed him the card and placed the box on the table in front of him before sitting back down.

"Now," she said as he tore open the envelope. "I stole your idea of making a card, and I'll be embarrassed as you read it…"

He was nodding but not really paying attention to her words, then a tender smile crossed his face as he noted the picture of the two of them in Dubai.

Inside one side of the card was filled with her unmistakeable slanted handwriting.

"Wow Els, an essay."

"You don't have to read it now." She said nervously.

"Of course I do."

He scanned the words, slowing down after he'd read the first line and starting over.

'Dearest Charles,

Remember some months ago I sent you a certain email… I spoke of how privileged I felt that you asked me out on a date and that I wished you every happiness. Who would have thought a couple of months down the line that happiness would be shared between us? That it would have grown to such an extent that I simply can't imagine life without you.

I told you, back then, that I wasn't able to respond to you telling me you loved me, when now I embrace it so completely that I'm not certain of who I was before it. I've never known such total trust, respect and admiration in a relationship, let alone the friendship and overwhelming passion we share! In short I didn't know life could be like this.

And so I thank you for all you've given me and wish you the happiest of birthdays, and the first of many to be celebrated together.

All my love,

Els…Elsie…Elspeth (depending on your mood) xx'

When he'd read it through twice he looked up at her over the top of his glasses, watching as she sipped her tea, kept her gaze from his as she put her cup down and pushed his present to him.

"So I got you this," she said.

He waggled the card in his hand, "We aren't to talk of this?"

"No. Just open your present."

"Els, this is…"

"If you say anything I'll cry, so open your present."

He put the card down, fully intending to return to that later and carefully opened the package, peeling sellotape from the end.

"Goodness Charles, just rip it open."

"No, this is quality paper, it could be re-used."

"You're quite the character." She reached for his empty plate, taking it to the sink out of the way.

"Woah, look at this, is this for the shop?"

"Well I suppose so, but it is for you too."

"Digital radio – moving with the times Mr Carson." He was reading the back of the box when she brought in the slightly larger present from the hall – a flat package wrapped in brown paper.

"A second present?" He asked.

"You did take me to Italy."

"Very true," he smiled up at her as she slid it to him. "So exciting. I feel like a kid." This time he did tear the paper off and revealed the exquisite painting of St Mark's.

"This is… Did you get this whilst we were away?"

She nodded, arms folded in front of her, delight on her face as he discovered the contents.

"How the hell did you get it back without me noticing?"

"Had it posted to Beryl's address. You like it?"

"I love it. It's wonderful." He stood up, lifting it up to rest on the table and look more closely at it.

"I thought it might look good in your new reading room."

He smiled at her, "Excellent idea."

"I'm full of them." She leant in close to kiss him, "You like your gifts?"

"They're perfect," he kissed her again, "and the sentiment in the card –,"

"Happy Birthday!" Anna shouted as she unlocked the flat door. "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you…" She sang as she came into the kitchen, plonking a gift and a card on the table and pulling Charles into a hug. "Happy Birthday dear Mr Carson. Happy Birthday to you."

"Made more money than any other song in the world that has," he said, returning her hug.

Elsie watched them as she switched the kettle on again; he'd gone from such a private and restrained character to somebody freely hugging. It was wonderful to see.

"So, your pressie," Anna exclaimed, hanging it to him. "Have I missed breakfast?"

"You want some?" Elsie asked, rolling her eyes, but already setting up the pans on the hob again.

"Your mother only had toast," Charles pointed out as he carefully unpeeled the paper from the present.

"I have a tight outfit to get in on Saturday, I don't want to ruin it. And besides we'll be having something big for dinner."

"You know you look great mum," Anna said, plonking herself down at the table. "Really great."

"Thank you sweetheart."

"But then you've looked fabulous since you quit smoking."

"You used to smoke?!" Charles exclaimed, pausing in unwrapping his presents.

"Don't tell him that," Elsie said, hitting Anna's arm.

"How come you never told me you smoked, how come I never noticed?"

"It was only for a while. Helped me de-stress. Clearly I quit."

"She read an article about what it does to your lungs and quit the same day." Anna stated.

"Hmm, good job." Charles mumbled, finally opening the present.

Elsie rolled her eyes at Anna who blobbed her tongue out at her.

"Another picture…?" He asked, turning it over and studying it.

"I made it for you," Anna said leaning over the table to point things out. "Remember we had a chat weeks ago about your ten 'must read' books, so these are the original spines, I recreated them – I thought it would look good behind the counter."

Elsie watched as Charles ran his fingers over the display.

"You like it?" Anna asked and he slowly looked up at her, clearly choked.

"It's wonderful. So thoughtful." He glanced over to where Elsie stood, to her smile and then back to Anna's. "Goodness you two." He reached to squeeze Anna's hand and Elsie breathed deeply before going to hug him from behind.

"Happy Birthday," she whispered kissing his cheek.

They took a walk before their massages. The weather was fine but not too hot, and the grounds were lush with greenery and flowers. Charles held her hand, proud that now when he passed strangers they smiled at them as part of a couple, said 'Good morning' where in the past he might have been ignored.

He was proud that she looked so radiant. That their happiness was palpable.

"Oh look, I adore horses." Elsie said as they passed by a pair of chestnut foals grazing in a field.

She stopped, leaning against the fence to watch them.

"We had horses around the farm when I was a child, they weren't ours, my father rented out the surrounding lands where possible – he was actually quite a savvy businessman. We got to learn to ride for free."

"I haven't ridden since my University days, used to play a bit of polo."

"Did you really?"

"Yep. I was rubbish but I played. Richard of course was brilliant. I always preferred cricket."

"It's been years since I've been on a horse, I mean not since childhood. Look how beautiful they are."

"Would you like to ride again?"

"I think I'd be too afraid now."

"There are people at the club with horses, I could set it up."

"Let me think on it first."

They resumed their walk, turning away from the meadow and back to the gravelled path through the undergrowth and toward the hotel.

"You think we should get a dog, when we move?" Charles asked. "It's a big space, might be safer."

She wrinkled her nose, "I've never much been a fan of dogs. Do you want one?"

"Never really considered it before. The flat's too small so even having one for company seemed unlikely."

"They're very noisy though, or can be." She groaned. "I'll have to take some aspirin."

"You've got a headache?"

"No my stomach, cramping up."

"I have to admit, women's bodies are still a mystery to me…. Despite the fact I obviously worship yours."

She squeezed his hand, giggling. "I think you do okay, I'm sure there are many men out there who know even less. The sad truth is at my age the monthly cycle is not quite so 'monthly' anymore, they've become more erratic which means I'm rapidly approaching the dreaded menopause."

Charles knew two things about the menopause: that Isobel went through it early and started taking hormone treatment in her early forties. The second, that women went off sex. He prayed that wouldn't happen. He wasn't vain enough to think their sex life would last forever or that it was the 'be-all' of their relationship, but they'd only just discovered the joy of being together – he didn't want to lose it already.

"Have you spoken to a Doctor?"

"Yes. There's nothing surprising about it, just the natural way of things. Don't worry," she squeezed his hand again, tighter this time. "You'll know when it's happening because I'll no doubt be irritable and moaning about it to you. Sweating in bed and the like."

He chuckled, "I look forward to it. They joy of being married – in sickness and in health, isn't it?"

"Absolutely."

"Where've we got to go for these massages? I've a feeling I'll easily get lost in here."

"You and your sense of direction. Hang on, I'll get the leaflet from my bag and look. I must pee before we go in for the massage though."

"You and your bladder."

"Oh god, we've got to get one of these." Charles said as his body melted into the warm, welcoming water.

"Don't tell me you've never used a Jacuzzi before," Elsie watched him as she removed her robe and laid it over her bed, leaving her slippers there too.

He opened his eyes as he heard her climbing in to join him.

"You look unbelievable in that…" He said lowly, and she noted the darkening of his eyes.

"I've not worn a white swimsuit since I was a kid, they can be far too revealing. I saw it last week, tried it and figured it would work for today."

"Like a bridal swimsuit."

"Bride to be…" she smiled, sliding through the water to lean over his bent legs and kiss him. "You had fun so far?"

"Never been so relaxed."

"Good. That was the plan." She slipped onto the seat beside him.

"But we definitely have to get one of these." He said again. "I'm already figuring where it would go. It'd fit into that back corner in the garden."

"With this English weather, we'd use it five times a year max."

"Five blissful times a year." He lifted his arm around her. "Let's think about it."

"Let's get in the house first hey. I don't want to waste money before we even get there."

"Mmm, come here smoky Jo, let's have a cuddle."

"Oh bugger off! It was years ago." She hit his chest but still cuddled up against him.

He kissed her head, "Best birthday ever Els."

"Really?"

"Without question. I've got to admit I almost dropped off on that massage table."

"I noticed," she smiled, "your speech became slurred." She felt his hand slide over her thigh and squeeze, "Honey, you do realise this is a public Jacuzzi, not a private one."

"What I wouldn't give for a private one… you'd be losing that swimsuit that's for sure."

"Oh would I now?"

"My birthday, I should get my wishes." He said smugly.

"If you'd given me a list with plenty of preparation time I would have done my best to meet sir's demands."

She felt him nuzzle his nose against her hair, kissing the shell of her ear.

"Charles, there are other people here." She twisted her head slightly, kissing his smiling face. "Close your eyes and tilt your head back and nap for a while."

"Yes Mrs Hughes."

She made him steak for dinner, "A treat," she told him, believing too much red meat was bad for his heart. And homemade chunky chips and pepper sauce, which he smothered his dinner in. Which probably wasn't much better for his heart.

He poured red wine and laid the formal dining table, lighting candles and dimming the lights.

"To a pretty perfect birthday," he said, lifting his glass to hers as they sat down to eat.

"I'm very glad you've enjoyed it." She said, knocking her glass against his.

There was something nice about doing the ordinary things together – hanging the picture she'd got him in the hallway – Charles standing on one leg supporting it whilst Elsie told him whether it was straight or not. Then doing the dishes side-by-side in the kitchen.

"You want more wine?" She asked as she collected their glasses from the side.

"You know what, I fancy tea and chocolate and watching television."

"Fair enough. That wish I can meet." She rinsed the glasses. "Anna said Isobel rang by the way, you might call her."

"I will." He nudged her hip with his, "I think I'm turning into one of those awful people who abandons their friends when they fall in love."

"Oh no," she chuckled, "instead think of it as making more friends."

"Very true. I take it Beryl will be there on Saturday."

"Of course, I sent invites to as many people as I could think of. She'll be there and dancing the night away."

"With you?"

"And you I hope."

"You know I'm not much of a dancer."

"Maybe after a few glasses of champagne hey."

"Maybe. But I'll enjoy watching you."

"Mmm," she kissed him. "Go ring Isobel, I'll finish these, get changed and then make the tea and we'll find something to watch."

By the time he'd finished talking to Isobel and Richard, Elsie was snuggled up on the couch, flicking through the channels.

"Not found a film yet," she said as he climbed in behind her. "Were they okay?" She twisted onto her side to look at him, the remote control still in her hand.

"Fine. I was filling them in on my spa day. Richard was jealous of the massage, I could tell." He boasted, chuckling. "I like this," he said, pointing towards the television.

"The Simpsons?" She asked glancing at it, "How do you of all people like this?"

"I've seen it on occasion, it's usually on around tea-time when I'm sitting down to eat.

They watched for a while, Charles sniggering behind her every now and then.

"I wouldn't think you'd like this type of humour," she said smiling as Homer tried to seduce his wife.

"Maybe I could wuther your heights?"

"…I'll take off my Victorian undergarments."*

They both laughed, "I'm going to store that line in my memory for future reference." He said, tiptoeing his fingers along her side. "Seduction according to Homer."

She flicked through the channels again until she paused and moved the cushion beneath her head. "Now I like this."

"Diners, Drivers and Dives," he said incredulously, reading the title, "The rubbish you watch."

"Now don't be a snob, you learn things from television. I've learnt a lot about American cuisine from this. If I ever did a road trip I'd be set for places to eat."

"And would you want to take an American road trip?"

"Oh absolutely. I'd move to the States in a heartbeat, no question."

"Really?"

"Really. Somewhere where you can get up every morning to sunshine and go eat pancakes or one of those smoked salmon bagels he just made on your patio, maybe have a swim in your pool, potter on down to the shops or around your garden…"

"So you're not planning on having a job over there?"

"Bugger that, I want to win the lottery and move there just to relax and enjoy life."

He kissed the back of her head, "Nice dream. Would you take me with you?"

"If you behave." She started flicking though the channels again. "There must be a movie starting soon, it's almost nine o'clock."

"Make another cup of tea Els," he moaned, nudging her shoulder.

"Me? I made the last one."

"It is my birthday."

"Don't I know it." She rolled from his arms and got to her feet. "Got me strutting round like R2 bleeding D2. Here," she threw the remote at him. "Choose a movie."

He searched, listening to her pottering about in the kitchen. "Isobel said she had a song for Saturday," he shouted. "Which will be a miracle if she actually gets up and sings. Any chocolate in there?"

"What are you yelling about?" She asked, bringing in the tea and kicking off her slippers to settle down again.

"Any chocolate?"

"You've got that huge box that Thomas brought over yesterday for your birthday…" she glared as he pouted. "Does that look mean 'get them for me please Elsie.'"

"Yes. Please darling."

She trudged off back to the kitchen, returning with the long box of luxury truffles.

"Thank you sweetheart."

"Love. Darling. Sweetheart. These are all just terms to pacify your slave."

He was laughing as he lifted up the blanket, "Come cuddle up next to me slave."

"You're on thin ice birthday boy…" But she snuggled beside him anyway. "It's a good job we only have a few hours of it left."

"I can't reach the chocolates." He whispered by her ear.

"Oh lord above! Is that what I've got to look forward to in retirement." She pulled the table close to the edge of the sofa. "Better?"

"Much." He simultaneously kissed the side of her face whilst reaching over to take a truffle from the box.

"So, what did you make of the spa?"

"Surprisingly I enjoyed it."

"Hmm… that's good…"

"Why do I feel like you have a plan?"

"Woman always have a plan dear." She tucked his arm around her waist, patting his hand. "I was thinking about wedding venues. And this place we're having the engagement party at tomorrow has a spa, and I was thinking if we got married there then guests could stay for the weekend and enjoy the facilities."

"So you figured you'd win me over to the joy of spas first."

"Yes."

"You're quite the plotter when you want to be aren't you."

"It's a skill all women must learn."

Chuckling he buried his face in her hair, squeezing her stomach. "Have I told you I love you today?"

"I think you may have called it this morning." She twisted in his arms, turning to look at him. "Do you have a vague recollection of that?"

"Yes." He smirked. "A vague recollection."

She stroked his chin; "We're staying in the hotel on Saturday night you know, so you'll need a bag."

"I'm feeling very spoilt."

"Good. Now… what were you saying?"

"Oh yes, I was going to say, I love you Elspeth."

"I love you too… Charlie."

"Oh!" He tickled her waist, keenly aware now of her most sensitive spots. She squirmed in his arms, caught between laughing and protesting. "Now you brought that on yourself."

"You brought it on yourself." She kissed him. "Now, quieten down and watch the film."

"You know I'll be asleep within twenty minutes," he said as she turned over again and he pressed his body against hers.

"I do know that. And you'll be snoring in my ear." She lifted his hand and kissed it. "Happy Birthday Mr Carson."

8 Years Ago

Turning the key and awkwardly pushing open the door to his flat Charles stumbled in, he was halfway drunk and his arms were full of gifts and cards.

In his mind he could still hear the jazz band from the club, his belly was full of good food and his ear ringing with fun conversation.

He stumbled up the stairs, kicked his shoes off in the hallway and dumped his gifts on the kitchen table ready to sort in the morning. He needed water and bed. He drank a pint and a half straight down and refilled his glass before he went to his bedroom.

Undressing in the heady warmth of the room he flopped down on top of the sheets. August was sticky that year and he'd been sleeping atop of the bed sheets for weeks, in just his underwear and with his window open to let in some air.

He laid in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, watching the odd flit of lights across it, passing cars, the curtains shifting in the breeze. The sounds of humans coming home from pubs – chatter and laughter.

Soon his spinning head began to calm and still and he reflected back on the evening. It had been a good evening, a full evening, he'd felt loved by his friends as they'd celebrated his fifty years on the earth.

He felt needed and valued.

Yet now, as he lay in the silence of his room, he felt like a teenager again. An awkward, gangly teenager who watched the rest of his classmates live life whilst he sat on the side lines wondering how it all unfolded. They all appeared to understand how everything worked. They made it all happen. And he stood around waiting for it to happen.

And it never did.

And so, fifty years, and still alone. Nothing much had changed since he was fifteen and wondering if the girl in the year below even knew if he existed.

"Happy Birthday Mr Carson," he said to the silent room.

* from The Simpson's episode 'Helter Skelter'.

Forgive me Dee - at least you got to sleep with him hey! As always THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your reviews, tumblr weblogs, the pictures people make for me and the lovely messages you send. I appreciate it all more than I can say. It really makes writing this story even more worthwhile (better than just having it in my head!). x R