Real life kicks in after the party - work, house buying, family stuff - you know the like!

Chapter 34

A Return to Routine

Two weeks since the engagement party – Sunday

There's something rather lovely about a lazy Sunday morning in bed. The peace of it. The stillness. No pressing need to be anywhere or do anything.

Charles swung his arm up and over his eyes in an attempt to block out the sunshine. He didn't want to wake, his body felt languid, his limbs heavy, weighed down by fatigue.

He turned away from the window, rolled forward, his legs the first thing to touch Elsie. He pressed one knee between her legs, slid his arm over her waist and his chin into the back of her shoulder, his lips kissing her skin as he sighed.

She moved ever so slightly in her sleep, leant back into him. She was warm and soft, her body supple beneath his palms. Her hair tickled his face as he moved his lips up over her shoulder blade and rested his head behind hers. Eyes closed again he melted into the pillow beside her, squeezed his hand against her stomach, bunching up the material of her nightgown.

When Elsie woke she could feel Charles' breath on the back of her neck, his hand on her belly and something rather more pressing against her bottom.

She shifted, the beginnings of a smile upon her lips, rubbing back until she heard his breathing tighten, he drew in a long breath and then out again upon her skin.

Leaning forward, away from his hold, until he tightened his grip and tugged her back.

"Morning," she whispered with a snigger.

"What makes you think I'm awake?"

"I can feel a particular bit of you is."

"Mmm, sorry," he kissed the back of her neck, "I can't help that."

"Sure you can't." She sat up, much to his dismay, and he flopped onto his back watching her. The shape of her back, how her hair fell, how she moved as she reached beneath the quilt and found the hem of her nightgown, lifting it up her body and throwing it aside.

He smiled, reaching forward to rest his palm against the base of her spine. She twisted her neck, glanced back at him.

"Good morning," he finally said, tiptoeing his fingers up her back.

"Good morning."

She easily twisted over, straddling him in one simple, smooth motion.

"Oh, very much good morning." He smirked, settling his hands on her hips.

When she leant forward her breasts squashed against his upper chest and he moaned into her mouth.

"What?" She murmured against his lips, one arm resting on the pillow to support her as she balanced, her mouth hovering centimetres from his.

"You know what…" his hand was moving down her back, palm gripping her bottom.

"What?" She whispers, closing her eyes, smiling as his mouth melts against hers.

The feel of her body rolling against his erection was driving him to distraction and if she carried on then this little jaunt wouldn't last very long at all.

He lifted her up, turning them over and moving between her legs.

"Hey, that's not fair, you're stronger than I am."

"Mmm, but being here is so very nice," he smiled, leaning in to kiss her chest, up her neck, the side of her face until he could suckle on her ear.

"Very, very nice," she agreed.

They lie in silence after, cuddled up, the warm sheets tangled around them, the sunlight filtering in across the bed. Elsie is dosing against Charles' chest and he strokes her back, content to be still and quiet for a while.

"Do you think we should just retire now?" He suddenly says, mind drifting through a myriad of ideas.

"Retire?" she repeats sleepily. "As in do bugger all with our time?"

"We'd do plenty. This," he kisses the top of her head, "gardening, walking, swimming. I might get to do some painting." He squeezes her waist, grinning, "more of this."

She smiles, eyes still closed, rubbing her palm across his chest. "And how would we fund this luxurious early retirement?"

"Not that early for me."

"I've got a good eight years left I'm afraid honey," she kissed his upper chest. "Nice thought though. You know," she flopped onto her back, shifting up the bed to lie beside him. "I need you to make some calls for me next week regarding the house, I need you to pester the solicitor for a completion date and the bank to make sure the funds are put in place."

"Bloody hell."

She tipped her head to the left to rest on his arm, "I'll make you a list this afternoon, you'll be fine."

"Do I have to be harsh?"

"If you don't get anywhere, don't let them put you off or bullshit you with fancy talk."

"Such a pleasant turn of phrase you have darling."

"Hmm, you love it." She slapped his leg. "Come on, get up and we'll go for a nice Sunday walk. I may even treat you to lunch."

"Lunch? I've not even had breakfast and read my papers."

"Take your papers with you." She rolled out of bed, reaching for her robe that hung by the door and putting it on before opening the curtains. "Look how beautiful the weather is, we can pack a picnic and a couple of blankets and spend the day being lazy in the sunshine."

"Nice plan." He said, stretching out on the bed.

"Well, get up then, lazy."

"I'll remind you of that tomorrow morning."

Charles twisted over the book in his hand, scanning the back before opening it up and checking the inside of the jacket, a first edition, a rare find. The price on the front was stamped as 75 pence; clearly this charity shop had no idea what they were selling. He dug around in his pocket, pulling a bunch of coppers and a five pence piece.

Sighing he glanced around for Elsie, the shop was fairly quiet but was myriad of haphazardly packed shelves and jumbled up donations. It some ways it reminded him of how his own shop used to look – before Elsie had a say in things.

He wandered around, the book safely tucked beneath his arm, until he spotted her bent down, in fact knelt down on the floor, piling items into her basket.

"What are you bulk buying?" He asked, standing over her, his shadow looming.

"Look at this," she said, holding up a bunch of pens. "Five pence each and about twenty colours, these are great for marking in. Real easy glide across the page."

"Oh my goodness!" He gasped, a hand on his chest.

"What?"

"I've just hit that point where I've realised I'm dating a teacher."

"Oh says the man with a book tucked beneath his arm."

"This is a rare find." He said, waving it at her. "These fools," he whispered, "letting it go for 75p, it's worth much more."

"It's a charity shop," she admonished, holding her hand up until he took it and helped her to het feet. "Surely you should pay more then."

"I'll donate in the pot they have on the counter, or you will, because I have about 11 pence in change."

"Freeloader."

"Pen hoarder." He teased as she jabbed him in the ribs. "Look I'll treat you to a take-away for dinner, as it's your last night of freedom."

"Seven entire weeks until I'm off again."

"What do you fancy?"

"Indian."

He scowled and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, we never have that."

"I'm not one for spicy food. It's all heat and no taste."

"That's entirely untrue, real Indian food is not all about that. Try it, I'll help you pick and when I order I'll ask them to hold back on the spice. They're nice like that."

"Alright, but I won't like it, then I'll end up having to make cheese on toast instead."

"You know what gets me about this?" Charles said, munching on a poppadum.

"This as in this T.V show?"

"Yes."

She looked up from her plate, reaching across the coffee table for the raita. "Yes, what then?"

"Where do they get all their bloody money from? These guys are borrowing six-hundred thousand pounds to build a house, where do they get that from, what's their job – or rather what's his job? She seems to be a housewife."

"Don't say it like that, being a 'housewife' is still a job, and a damn stressful one."

"Yes I know that, I'm not demeaning that. But I mean she isn't earning, that's my point, only one of them is earning, they've got three little kids and they're building a house from scratch – where's the money coming from?"

She picked up her wine glass, "Loans I suppose. Credit cards. You'd need guts, I'm stressing already and we haven't even signed on the dotted line."

"Let's hope that gets done this week."

"Fingers crossed."

"Getting in for Christmas…" he reached for the take-away tub near her. "What's this?"

"Rogan Josh."

"Hot?"

"Not really." She watched as he spooned more onto his plate, "You know you may have to accept that Christmas there might not happen."

He pouted, "You're banning Christmas."

"Oh don't be silly, you know what I mean."

"Not listening to that kind of talk," he ate a forkful of the curry. "We're having Christmas in that house, and a New Year party too."

"If you organise it."

"No problem. You want some more of this?" He asked, holding up another tub.

"No I'm fine, you have it, I want the naan bread though."

He handed it across. "There you go madam."

"Thank you," she muted the television as the adverts came on – it always amused him how she did it automatically, advertisements annoyed her no end - they pretty much had each other's habits down now. "It's going to be a stressful few months."

He leant back against the sofa, rubbing his rather stuffed belly as he did so. "Well, we'll just have to remember that it will come to an end. It's only temporary stress, not life-long stress."

"I'll remind you of that in six weeks time." She said getting up from the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"To make you some peppermint tea, help with your digestion." She squeezed his shoulder as she passed him. "You shouldn't eat so fast."

"I'd rather have ice cream than tea."

"Well, its tea you're getting."

As he listened to her pottering about in the kitchen, stared at the remains of their dinner on the table, the signs of their shared life all around him, he reflected on how very much he'd miss her when she went back to work. How over the past year every little bit of them had become entwined... and it felt rather wonderful to him.

Monday

The morning alarm is unwanted. An old friend she'd rather never see or hear from again. "I've forgotten what time I get up, what my routine is," she sighs heavily, dramatically. "I don't want to go."

He watches her as he pulls his trousers up, the way she's folded her arms in front of her pouting like a child.

"Too long off, that's your problem." He's out of bed as soon as the alarm goes, eager to make her breakfast, to make sure she leaves well-prepared for the day.

"Or not long enough." She complains, folding the pillow over her face.

"I'll turn the shower on for you shall I?"

Her reply was a murmured groan – he thinks better than to remind her of her 'lazy' comment from the previous day and instead make a pot of tea and toast and cereal. He thinks in the winter he'll make her porridge and they'll be in their new kitchen, in their own house.

"I'm going to go swimming on the way home," she says, joining him in the kitchen, taking an apple from the fridge and putting it into her schoolbag. "May not get another chance this week; first week back's always hell."

"You look tired." He said, sipping his tea. "Could be something to do with you tossing and turning all night."

"Sorry," she sat down across from him. "Kept you awake."

"You always like that before a new term?"

She shrugged, "I guess so. Suddenly, my mind is packed full of information again. And concerns and data and targets and anxieties." She laughed. "Oh yes, and sometimes you actually get to think about student names."

"So you're happy about going back then?" He grinned.

"Ecstatic!" She drained her tea in one go, got up and leant over kissing his cheek. "I'm only being sixty percent truthful. I'm kinda excited about all the new stationery."

He chuckled. "I did notice that in the store yesterday."

"I know, I'm a sucker for shiny must-have gadgets. I'm easily distracted in the classroom by the kids' stationery. Last year a student had a pencil case shaped like a milk carton."

"A milk carton?"

"A-ha, about this high, zip down here, little press-studs on the top where the carton opened. Very cool."

"You liked that student," he smiled.

"I liked her pencil case." She corrected. "The kid was alright," she added with a shrug.

"You look good," he said as she bent to retrieve her sandals from beneath the table. "I like you all casual in jeans."

"I'm a casual kinda gal don't you know. And what about this, see, picked a black top so when I hold my hand against it my ring stands out." She said, flexing her finger against her hip.

"Show off."

"Have to take my moments where I can. So, I'll be home after five I should think, maybe closer to six after the pool."

"How's that going anyway?"

"Well, the other day I thought I'd made a friend when an old lady kept smiling at me. I paused at one end to take a breath and she strikes up a conversation so I chatted along, tells me how she's 84, used to be very over-weight, now she comes to the gym four times a week, does a session up there then in the pool. 'Very impressive,' I say. Then she tells me the only reason she goes up to the gym section is in the hope some young man will wear loose fitting shorts and flash her when he's on the rowing machine, because, and I quote, 'it's been a while since I've seen one.' I didn't quite know what to say to that."

"Cheeky old minx."

"I know. I didn't have the heart to tell her they've not changed much."

"And there's nothing much to see." He teased.

"Nothing of note."

"And with that revelation," he said folding his paper, "I can start my day." He got up, bending to kiss her.

"Nothing like a chat over penises, peni, what's the plural of a penis?"

"I can't say I've ever had to think it through. Usually my concern is focused on one."

"And you, scrabble champion." She laughed. "Don't forget to check in with the builder if you can," she said as they headed downstairs, "about going to the house with us Friday afternoon. I want to get the plans drawn up."

"I'll call him. About five?"

"Yeah that's fine, see you later honey."

"Have a nice day." He said holding the door open for her.

She turned and smiled, "You used to say that to me when I was a customer. Have a nice day yourself."

"I'll try."

Despite Charles having made her tea and toast that morning she still found herself turning onto her usual route and calling into Costa for a large latte. Damn the calories. First day back after summer holidays meant she needed the caffeine.

First days back usually meant spending hours stuck in the hall listening to one LG* member after another get up to 'fill you in' on results, plans, schemes, special needs training, etc etc etc. It lasted too long, on uncomfortable chairs, and left you with a handful of paraphernalia that usually got lost somewhere between Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.

Elsie sat on the end of the third row back, skimming through the booklet which had been left on her chair. She glanced to her right as the seat next to her was taken, finding Spratt sitting down next to her.

"Good morning," she said, as amenably as she could.

"Morning, you're looking very well."

"Thank you. As are you. Good holiday?"

"It was actually. And you? I heard you got engaged."

"I did." She blushed, she hadn't invited him to the party.

"How did he do it?"

She swallowed, reaching for her coffee which stood on the floor by her feet. "Well, I er, did it, actually." She shrugged, "Kind of a joint decision in the end I guess. We were both moving towards the same thing."

"That's lovely. You deserve it."

She was genuinely surprised by his kindness, and his interest in the matter. She'd never really wondered what her colleagues thought of her previous marriage, or Joe. Had she turned into work bearing the scars of what was going on between them? She'd always done her best to hide it, in fact work allowed her an escape.

"So anything exciting happen with you?"

"Afraid not. I've purchased a new car, that's about it."

"Wow, you'd had that car ever since I've known you."

"Time for a change. And you're buying a house too aren't you? You're all about change. Quite odd for a History teacher." He teased, chuckling.

"I know, don't point it out, I could be heading for a breakdown." She reached down for her coffee, taking a sip. "Lots of new faces around," she noted, glancing around the hall. "Who's that over there?"

"Where?"

"The rather fierce looking lady sitting in the front row."

He huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Works in the office, finance, she's the new bursar. Denker."

"That's her name?"

"Surname."

"You've not found out her first name?"

"Not yet."

She chuckled, hiding it behind her hand.

"Nice ring."

"Thank you," she tilted her hand to take a look at it. "So, what else did you learn?"

"Her husband was German, she's divorced and has just moved back to England."

Elsie eyed him, "Goodness Spratt, you don't waste time getting the gossip."

"Spoke to her in the summer when I came in to do some work. Bit jumped up I'd say. Had the nerve to question who I was and what I was doing there."

Elsie bit the inside of her cheek, smirking as she watched Spratt glare across the room at Denker.

A Year Ago

Charles was whistling as he lined up the new books on the shelf beside the counter. Every September meant new titles and he enjoyed rearranging them; he used to simply go by surname, then by rating, but sometimes now he found himself arranging according to the colour of the binding – he didn't like it when they clashed.

"When the night has come and the land is dark…" he sang along to the radio, reaching around the counter to turn up the volume, this had always been one of his favourites.

"You sound a bit too happy this morning," Thomas said from the back door, the place Charles had sent him to if he insisted on smoking.

"A man can be happy, you know."

"Not on a Monday morning, five entire days until freedom again."

"Says the man who's hardly ever at work, what is it you do Thomas?"

"I entertain, I am the entertainer." He flicked the stub of his cigarette out into the yard and returned inside the shop.

"Entertain what, who exactly?"

"Don't make me out some kind of gigolo, this –," he indicated his torso. "Is far too expensive to purchase. And you know what I do, I organise parties."

"You go to parties – there's a difference. I don't know how you scrape a living."

"Any coffee going spare?"

"In the kitchen." As Thomas disappeared he returned to his whistling. He'd put a vase of flowers on the counter a few days earlier and was now picking out the dead leaves, scattering them into the bin.

Thomas paused by the door, coffee in one hand, two biscuits in the other. The old man was surprising him.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I've told you."

"I can see that smile on your face, the air about you," he waved a biscuit at Charles, "It's a woman. This woman you've been seeing."

"Four dates." Charles exclaimed, though as much as he tried to deny the extreme emotions that small fact conjured up in him he couldn't. "Hardly eternity."

"You're enjoying it," he laughed, "you old dog."

"You don't have to revel in my discomfort."

"Oh don't be so pompous. I've never known you have a woman."

"I haven't 'had' anything."

"Not yet, but four dates, you'll be warming up."

"Don't make it lurid."

Thomas moved behind the counter, perching himself on Charles' seat and dipping his biscuit into his coffee. "Name?"

He sighed, turning away from Thomas, "Elsie," he felt the corners of his mouth twitch in pleasure as he said it.

"Pretty?"

"Beautiful."

Thomas paused in his munching, leaning back against the wall. "That's sweet." He heard Charles' dry laugh, the sarcasm in it. "I'm not being funny, I mean it. That's sweet. Nice to have you dating, you've been alone for far too long."

"That I have Thomas, we can agree on it. And she's just lovely, and I've waited a very long time for her."

The younger man nodded as he sipped his coffee, far from understanding the literal meaning of Charles' words, not just the metaphorical.

Present Day

Elsie left work as soon as she could, just after three she was heading into the car park, only to find it already half empty. Clearly the other staff had left as soon as the bell hit 14:30, intent to make the most of the shorter inset day. Only the upper school students would be in the following day so it was a gentle easing in rather than the full-force of a new term.

The sun was breaking through the afternoon clouds and even though it was September she could pretend it was still summer. Though she knew autumn was already staking its claim; she'd smelt it earlier the previous week, when they'd visited their new house and she'd opened an upstairs window, in what would be their bedroom, to let in some fresh air after months of it being closed up. The air had smacked her clear in the face and she'd closed her eyes and breathed in the freshness.

The fine weather made her feel energetic, eager to be out and doing something, and, as planned, she went swimming, managing fifty lengths and slimming her time from 36 minutes to 32, it was a small reduction but she was ever closer to getting down to the thirty minute mark and the challenge made her keep going back.

As she pulled in to her spot towards the rear of the shop she reflected on the fact that doing this exercise over the past few weeks hadn't caused her to lose weight, but she did feel better for it. Tighter, perhaps. Certainly her muscles ached, especially when she got out of bed in a morning, her back reminded her that she'd done some work.

Carrying her things upstairs she by-passed the entrance to the shop, Anna was behind the counter serving and she headed up to search for Charles. The distinct sound of the cricket commentator came from the lounge and she found him laid out on the sofa, a glass of water in his hand, still in his cycling gear.

"Hi," she said, and he barely looked round.

"Hi sweetheart, was it alright?"

"Yes I guess so," she left her things by the door and came up behind him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Ugh, you're all sweaty."

"Only been back ten minutes, I'll take a shower in a minute."

"Cycling on a Monday afternoon?" She stated, moving round to sit in the chair at the far end of the sofa.

"Anna told me to take the afternoon off, it was quiet and I was boring her."

"Never."

"I could tell. If I'm not there she can sketch, she thinks I don't know."

"Beneficial for you both."

"Absolutely."

She glanced at the television screen; she still knew nothing of cricket, her understanding remained severely limited.

"Want to go out for dinner tonight?" She asked lightly, "Just go to a pub or something."

"Sounds good." He cleared his throat, "Should we er, invite Anna?"

"Of course." She uncrossed her legs, "I'll pop down and ask her."

"Els…" he said when she was halfway to the door.

"Hmm."

"And John?"

He heard her stop, pause for a moment and consider.

"Els?"

"Yes. Alright."

Anna was overjoyed that she and John were being asked out for dinner, even though it was only a casual meal at a local pub in some way it felt like they were moving towards acceptance.

She left early, to nip home and change, and left Elsie cashing up – a task she was becoming familiar with.

Charles was showered and back watching the cricket by the time she got upstairs.

"Hey," she complained, leaning over the side of the couch and draping her arms over his shoulders. "I'm down there doing your job and you're up here lazing about."

"Watching cricket is a serious business I'll have you know."

She kissed his cheek, moving her head round until she bit lightly on his ear.

"Ow!"

"That was for being pompous."

"Long time since I've been called that." He turned his head slightly, enough to kiss her smile. "Do I smell better now?"

"Much better. Can you tear yourself away long enough for us to go out now? I need some wine."

"Sure, but only because it's you." He pointed the remote at the television and turned it off, bounding to his feet.

"I'm not entirely sure if I'd win were we to measure your love for cricket against your love for me." She said, as she hooked her bag over her shoulder and headed off down the hallway.

"Don't be silly darling," he pinched her bottom, "you just have the edge."

Luckily, Elsie had consumed the majority of a large glass of wine by the time Anna and John arrived, softening her demeanour somewhat. She and Charles had sat outside, under the shade of an overhanging tree, catching the last vestiges of summer before it ebbed away.

They were holding hands across the table as the younger couple arrived and Charles got up, ever the gentlemen, helping Anna to slide onto the bench. He dug out his wallet, took their order and headed back inside to get drinks.

"So, did you drive?" Elsie asked, chewing down on her bottom lip.

"Edith dropped us off, she was coming into town anyway, we begged a lift. We can get a cab back." Anna said, slipping off her jacket and sliding her sunglasses onto her head, pushing her hair back just as her mother had.

"You walked?" John asked. His hands were folded atop of the table, and he was nervously fiddling, rubbing his thumbs together.

He was handsome, Elsie could see that, darkly handsome, he had that kind of laid-back, slightly naughty look about him – something stereotypical that she would never have thought her smart, slightly reserved and sensible daughter would go for in a man.

"We did, figured we'd make the most of the fine weather before it disappears for good."

"So Charles was on the phone for ages today with the solicitor – did he get anywhere?" Anna asked.

"Possibly sign next week, I hope they decide soon though. Not that we'll be moving for a while but at least we can get started on the renovations…" Charles returned, placing drinks on the table and sitting beside Elsie. "The sooner the better, the longer we wait the more dreaming he does – it started out as just a wall in the kitchen being removed to give it more of a square shape, now we're branching out to the hall and lounge and spare bedroom that should have en suite." She reached beneath the table to squeeze his leg. "He's addicted to Grand Designs and keeps recording segments of shows that offer inspiration!"

"Hey, correct me if I'm wrong but if you stayed over at somebody's house you'd feel better having an en suite, even a small one, just a sink and a loo if need be, to use, wouldn't you?"

"I guess it's better than disturbing anyone should you need the toilet in the night." John agreed.

"Exactly. I would think that somebody like you Els, up and down three times a night with your bladder, would have appreciated that."

"Hey! Don't tell the world!" They laughed as she slapped his knee.

"I remember that well. She stayed over at University with me once, we shared my double bed down there and she woke me in the early hours with an almighty crash when she tripped over my roommates project in the other room. We were all up then!"

"Oh god, she'd built this mini… what was it again?"

"Buildings of the world."

"That was it. Miles long, laid out in the hallway, these little, mini buildings – Taj Mahal, Pyramids and the like, and I go headfirst over it."

"She had a great red line right down her forehead!" Anna slid her finger down her head to exemplify and they all laughed, Elsie pressing her head against the table to hide her embarrassment.

"That poor girl." Charles said.

"Which one?" Anna asked. "Me or my friend Claire. She was devastated though polite with it."

"The English way," John remarked.

Elsie wiped her eyes. "I forget, you've only just moved over here haven't you?"

"Well, I used to live in London for a while, when I was younger." He said guardedly.

"You can say it," Anna reassured, pressing her hand over his, "we're none of us stupid – we all know you were married."

Charles gripped his beer glass and glanced to the tree above as he took a drink.

"Yes, well, when I was married I lived in London. It was a rush, a mistake, I was a silly boy who thought marrying a fairly rich girl would get me out of Ireland and make my life better."

"We can all make mistakes," Elsie said, gently - reflecting on her own 'silly mistake' to get away from her parents' house.

Charles refilled her wineglass, "Shall we order food?"

The conversation was quiet over dinner; brief comments on how good things were, on Elsie's first day back at work, Charles' increased income since the renovations.

"What are you doing at the moment, John?" Elsie asked, placing her cutlery on the plate. "For work I mean."

"Erm," John swallowed the potato he was chewing. "Well, bar work mostly, but that's only until I can find something better. Just to keep the money coming in so we can pay the rent."

"We?" She asked, folding her hands on the table, her mouth suddenly dry as she directed her speech toward Anna. "You told me you were living with Edith."

"I am."

"So, you need John to help pay your rent. I'll help, if you're struggling, you ask me – I am your mum."

Anna sighed, suddenly her appetite gone. "That's not how he means it…"

For a moment Elsie sucked on her bottom lip, feeling Charles tense beside her, watching him push away his plate, empty save for the salad laid out along one side. "You didn't say he was living there too."

"Mum…" Anna says lowly, embarrassed, annoyed by her mother's tone. "Don't be rude."

"But he is? He is living with you. That's the case, isn't it?"

"Yes, he is."

Elsie glanced away, across to people on other tables, to two children chasing each other about with plastic swords.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry, or get angry." Anna said forcefully.

"Angry?" She sucked in air between her teeth. "Perhaps not. But I thought we shared everything."

"We do."

"But not this?"

"I'm telling you now. Mum I can't be what you want…"

"Don't be silly, you are what I want." She reached over to squeeze Anna's hands. "I just…"

"You just don't want me to throw my life away, I know, but I'm not. I'm not stupid. I was raised by you for goodness sake, so I'm not going to go too far wrong."

Elsie sat back, one hand still stretched out across the table towards her daughter, one hand fiddling with the stem of her glass.

She felt Charles' hand reach to rest on her back, his thumb drawing circles across her skin.

"Look, Mrs Hughes," John said. "Elsie… I'm not going to let her down. I know that's what you think. But I won't. We're in this together."

Elsie finally shifted her gaze to the man beside her daughter, taking in his earnest expression. Shrugging she let out the breath she'd been holding, "I don't mean to come across as rude."

"It's not ideal being with Edith, the two of us," he continued. "Not fair on her neither, but now that Charles has offered us the flat we can have our own space…"

"He's what?"

"Oh shit," Anna murmured into her glass, cursing John for his stupidity.

Suddenly, Elsie's glare shifted to the man sitting beside her, the man whose hand appears to have frozen on her shoulder blade.

"You've done what?"

"It was just an idea," he said softly. "A suggestion. Seems silly to leave the flat empty when we could have paying tenants. Come on Els…"

"No." she slammed her napkin onto the table. "Don't Els me, you know how I feel about this and you're offering to make it easier for them."

"What do you want me to do?" His voice had hardened too. "Make it harder for them? I care for her as much as you do."

"Do you?" She struggled to get to her feet, lifting her legs out of the confined space of the bench and reaching for her handbag from the floor. "You care as much as I do?"

"Elsie." Charles droned, dropping his napkin beside hers.

"Bloody men, always know best, well if you know best then you carry on making plans behind my back. You can do it all."

"Mum, that's not what we were doing. You're being silly."

"You're meant to share everything with me. Both of you. And somehow I end up being the one cut out. Well fine, go right ahead."

She stomped across the beer garden and back inside to the pub, "Elsie!" he called after her, getting up quickly and opening his wallet, "Here, pay the bill."

"Sorry mate, I didn't mean to…"

"Yeah I know. She had to know, just maybe in a gentler way. I'll talk to her." He squeezed Anna's arm before he chased after her.

Charles scanned the pub for Elsie but there was no sign; his eyes seemed to fail as he searched and headed outside, the fading sunshine blinding him.

In a half jog he finally caught sight of her sitting on a bench in the town gardens. He remembered months ago sitting in that very spot sharing fish and chips and flirting outrageously.

Silently, he slipped onto the seat beside her. Giving her a few moments before he reached over and placed his hand on hers.

It was cooling as the evening drew in and he shifted closer to her, eventually lifting his arm up and around her shoulders until she leant her head against him. Above him the sky was tranquil, pale blue and orange clouds, above it an inky blue stain easing in as night moved over.

"Come on darling," he said lightly. "Everything's alright. Look at that beautiful sky above us, think of everything we've got, all we've got to be grateful for. Happy, healthy, this love we've found, and Anna is happy, she really is…

"She's an adult," she interrupted. "An adult… and I can't control her anymore."

"Is that what you want to do? Control her?" He said gently, placing a kiss to her head.

"Not in a negative way. Not how you might think." She groaned, sitting back, rolling her neck, suddenly she seemed to have a headache. "You see all her life all I had to do was protect her. I controlled where she went, who she saw, how much she knew…about me, about her father. I never wanted her to be in the position I was in, I wanted her to be independent, to travel, to experience life."

He nodded, stroking her shoulder. "Yes, I understand that, and she does. But you can't control her, you can't stop her – she is living her life, and he's not so bad."

She let out a sharp breath, "No, but he isn't what I imagined for her."

He chuckled, "Maybe not, but maybe the millionaire brain surgeon is just around the corner."

"And you," she said gently, twisting her head to look at him. "How come you didn't tell me this plan?"

"It really wasn't like that. I was trying to help," he rolled his eyes, "somehow whenever I try to help it goes tits up."

She widened her eyes and shook her head.

"He mentioned they were looking to rent a place together but what they'd seen was cheap rubbish. So, I told John not to rush into anything, to hang about in case we were moving soon and then they could have our place. At least we know its safe and secure and she's close by, right above the shop."

She sighed again.

"And yes, I know you're not happy about the either, but at least she has a job. And you know I won't be working forever, it's either sell it or pass it on…"

"A successor?" She said lightly, amused by the brightness in his eyes. "You see Anna as taking over the shop as some sort of successor?"

"Well, it's hardly a grand establishment I know, but yes, it's been in the family for years, I'd be sad to see it go to strangers. I'd like to keep it in the family, and she's my family, you are." He squeezed her close to him. "And I would never deliberately keep anything from you, nor hurt you."

"Yes. I know." She pressed her face against his chest.

"So, maybe a phone call, assure her it's okay."

"Maybe something less embarrassing." She reached into her bag for her phone and opened a text. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry for overreacting, I'm still getting used to you not being my little girl anymore! I'm happy for you to have the flat…and John seems nice enough. Forgive me? xx"

"Well?" She said, glancing up at him.

"Well…" he smiled, "I'd forgive you. Can I walk you home?"

"Any time."

Ah the perils of domesticity... Thanks for all your wonderful support with this. Please let me know you're still hanging in there with them, we still have a way to go! X