I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for SUCH a long time!

Originally it was meant to be New Year comparisons between 2014 and 2015. But the flashback sequence kinda took over and is already 12000 plus words so 2015 was moved to chapter 40.

However, as I'm still having issues trying to post anything over 8000 words I've decided to split it into 39a and 39b (I'll post them close together because of course they were meant to be read that way). But I'm going away tomorrow and don't want to risk not being able to post an update.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! x

Chapter 39a – And then Charles

Late December 2014

Dragging her small case into the hallway Elsie glanced at herself in the mirror and reached up to toy with her hair. When she'd suggested the trip to Edinburgh – back in the summer – he'd quickly agreed, confident they'd still be seeing each other; she figured if things had gone wrong she'd let him have the hotel and tickets and he could take a friend.

As it was things between them, what she was hesitant to label as a 'relationship', were going well. Until of course Joe showed up, and she'd kissed him in her kitchen and felt his hands on her body, and since then she'd struggled to clear up in her own head what was going on.

Joe always had a way of making her feel like she needed him, making her feel like she loved him, that was why she'd stayed in the marriage so long. That and Anna. Somehow, whenever he was near, she felt weak, dependent.

The months after he'd left she'd felt depleted and empty. It was odd to try and rebuild her life, to find herself again, after being told who she was for so very long. She could make choices, and even simple things, like what she'd have for dinner on any given night, had taken some getting used to.

Slowly, she felt her confidence build and the personality she'd let sleep for so very long awaken. And then Charles. And finding she could be herself with him and he judged nothing, expected nothing more than her company, her companionship.

The buzz of her intercom interrupted her musings and she quickly pressed the door release and went to the kitchen to check all appliances were turned off, she repeated the same in the bedroom and then returned to the hall waiting for his knock.

As it were she might have considered cancelling, she'd felt lousy ever since Joe's visit, but when they'd had dinner a few days before Christmas he'd been so wonderfully sweet and excitable about this trip that she couldn't possibly imagine hurting him.

She slid the chain off and opened the door to him.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hello." He grinned, his hands dug in his pockets. "It's pretty cold out. Are you ready?"

"I am indeed, just need to get my coat."

He followed her in, rubbing his hands together to stave off the cold, she was wearing loose trousers and a beige sweater and he thought it one of the few times he'd seen her dressed casually. "Only the one small case, I'm impressed."

"Very funny. You have different expectations of women?"

He picked up her case, "I've heard on the grapevine they don't travel light."

"Oh you have, have you?" She watched a slight grimace pass over his features. "Whatever's wrong?"

"I may have hurt my back."

"How on earth?"

"It's just a twinge, was playing games on Christmas Day at my friend's house and twisted a bit too much." He straightened up. "It's getting better."

She rested a hand on his arm, taking the case from him, "And you're driving all the way to Edinburgh…"

"I'll be fine."

"I'll drive," she insisted, hooking her handbag over her arm.

"No."

"Why ever not?"

"Well, because you're…" he lifted a hand towards her. "…you're…"

"A woman? Is that what you're going to say? Heavens Charles. I can drive."

"That's not what I meant. I meant I'm the man, I should do the driving."

"Why?"

"Because it's how things are done."

"Do you know how stuffy that sounds?"

"I am beginning to, yes."

"Then we'll share the driving? Half way break we swap."

He tilted his chin, a slight smirk playing on his lips, she was tenacious and he found he liked it. "Deal."

An hour into the journey they stopped at the services as Elsie needed the loo, purchased take-away coffees and continued on their way. Only this time with Elsie at the wheel.

"Oh god, I can't wait to get these pants off." She exclaimed, squirming in her seat.

Wide-eyed and amused Charles turned to observe her, "That's quite some pick-up line."

"Ha. You wish. I mean this is the most uncomfortable pair of knickers," she squirmed again, shuffling from one side to the other. "French knickers. My daughter thought it amusing to purchase them for me as a Christmas gift, insisting I need to wear sexier underwear now I'm dating."

Charles felt as if he were watching her open-mouthed the entire time she spoke, his knuckles white where he gripped his coffee cup. 'Dating', her daughter viewed them as 'dating', he wondered what that meant – what it meant to her. What she'd told her daughter about him.

"Believe me, there is nothing sexy about this feeling." She continued.

"Can't trust anything French." He teased.

"Ohh, scandalous."

"Name me something French… besides these er… knickers."

"Hmm, French cooking, French pastries." She glanced at him, waggling her eyebrows. "French kissing."

"Touché."

"French." She said pointedly.

"Maybe it's sitting in them for hours on end in the car, you know we could have taken the train."

"You saw how much it cost, and not really any quicker. We've paid enough for the hotel and the privilege of being here."

"I'm looking forward to it being rather luxurious. The websites I read highly recommended it."

She smiled, squeezing the steering wheel; he was so thorough about preparing for these things.

"Though I did feel a fool when I rang up three weeks ago to change the booking from two rooms to one." He felt his cheeks warm as he said it and purposefully kept his eyes fixed on the motorway. When they'd decided on this New Year break it was as friends verging on something more, five months later and finally (finally) they'd started sleeping together and it was definitely something more. He could count on one hand the number of times they'd had sex in the past three weeks (five exactly) and he was both nervous and exhilarated at the thought of having four whole days alone with her sharing a hotel room.

He hoped to God he could live up to expectations. Sleeping together after an evening out and then not seeing each other for a week was one thing. Spending an extended amount of time together in one another's space was surely make or break.

"Were they funny about it?" She asked.

"Not really. We lost the deposit, but I'll pay that, it doesn't matter."

"Of course you won't. We'll split it as we will the bill at the end of our stay."

"You're quite independent aren't you?"

She breathed deeply, "I am now, or trying to be. Sorry if I come across as rude."

"Not at all."

"I spent far too many years doing what made someone else happy."

He assumed she meant her husband but he didn't want to pry, she was intensely private on some matters, her marriage being top of the list.

"You sure you don't mind sharing the driving?" He asked.

"Of course not. I like to drive. How's your back feeling?"

"Better not driving," his chair was reclined quite far back. "I should learn not to over-exert myself at charades, I do it every year."

She snorted.

"What?"

"You and charades."

"Christmas tradition." He said, sipping his coffee. "So, you had a good Christmas? You haven't said."

She swallowed, a flash of Joe's mouth on hers in her mind, "Yes. It was fine. Good. You know, the same."

"The same?"

"Well, we go to Beryl's, Anna and I, since the… the divorce."

"Ah, yes. Well, it's always a bit awkward isn't it, being at a friend's place. I've had years of it, too many to count. And I still feel a bit awkward at times."

"Hmm…" he watched as she chewed down on her lip. "You mind if we have the radio on for a while?"

"Course not." He said, sipping the last of his coffee. Every now and then he felt he was growing closer to her, inching through the barriers she kept up, and then it was all he could do to stand and watch as they went back up.

"Britney." She said and he stared at her.

"Sorry?"

"Britney bitch," she drawled glancing at him then laughing at his incredulous expression. "You know," she pointed at the stereo, "this is an older one though."

He watched as she tapped out the beat on the steering wheel, and then lightly sang along with the chorus, "I'm a slave for you…"

"Good Lord, the rubbish they put in pop songs."

She chuckled, "Now why am I not surprised by that statement. I like pop music," she wiggled in her chair again and he wondered if the underwear was still bothering her.

"She's singing about being somebody's slave."

"Yes. But think about it, I mean she's talking about passion, being so hung up on this guy she'd do anything for him if he just wants to 'come and get it'. Isn't that what poets have used as inspiration for years – sex – the power of sex? Passion and intoxication? Love as a drug. 'My vegetable love should grow vaster than Empires.'"

"Marvell." He smiled.

"A-ha, she's just singing about the same thing."

"Quite the lesson Mrs Hughes."

"Ha ha, and I'm not even a Lit teacher."

"Ooh I like this song," she said, turning up the volume and bopping about in her seat, he gripped the dashboard with one hand, glancing at the road ahead, perhaps he should drive again.

"Such a great tune." She exclaimed.

"Oh, it sounds it." He deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the sound of the young man grunting over the introduction to the track.

"What's he even going on about?" He asked, trying to make out the lyrics.

"More sex I'm afraid," she laughed. "And perhaps a bit of love, finding love and that wonderful feeling you get when you don't want to be apart from that person. Listen…"

'Never had much faith in love or miracles…'

She glanced at Charles, biting the inside of her cheek as his face set in concentration as he listened.

As the bridge kicked in she found she couldn't help but move again, she always sang in the car with Anna on lengthy journeys, it cheered the mood of the dull motorway.

"Cos your sex takes me to paradise…" she sang, avoiding his questioning gaze. "…And it shows, cos you make me feel like, I've been locked out of heaven for too long." She sang loudly and then chuckled, throwing her head back and eyeing his growing smile.

"I'm assuming the opening of gates is a metaphor." He said as the song continued, but she noted his fingers were tapping the beat on the dashboard.

"Cos you make me feel like, I've been locked out of heaven for too long." She sang again, slowing as they approached a line of traffic. "Oh that was wonderful," she said as the song ended and she turned down the volume as the presenter spoke over the top. "Great song."

"I can see you enjoyed it at least."

"I hope they play that somewhere this weekend so we can dance to it."

"Dance?" He exclaimed.

"It's New Year's Eve, we'll be out dancing, trailing from place to place slowly getting drunk."

"Don't you do that when you're twenty-two?"

"Yes. But I never did," she turned to look at him, "Did you?"

He shook his head, "I guess not. Not properly anyhow."

"Well then, let's pretend we're twenty-two."

"Unfortunately, I look closer to sixty-two."

"Charles…" she smiled. "Believe me, the bars will be packed with all walks of life come Wednesday night."

He rolled his eyes, "Reassuring. News..." He turned up the volume and they sat in silence as they listened.

"Oh bollocks," Elsie chided as she slowed again, the car coming to a complete halt. "Bloody traffic."

"Nothing worse than queuing on the motorway." Charles noted.

"Perhaps queuing on the motorway when you need the loo."

"Again?"

"It's age." She chuckled, lifting one finger up from the steering wheel and pointing it at the yellow transit van in front of them. "Look at the number plate on that."

Charles looked up to the van, 'Stephen's Free Range Eggs' was written across the back of the two doors, a phone number beneath and the number plate: ST3 EGG.

"How very droll."

"I bet that was expensive."

"Must be dedicated to his chickens."

"Ha! Now that is droll."

'Time to slow it down for our thirty minutes of love, and you know what that means people, heartbreak too. So, take a moment people, make a cup of tea and take a load off for half an hour.'

"Clearly the presenter doesn't know you need to pee." Charles smiled.

The pair of them sat quiet again, staring at the unmoving traffic stretching out in front of them listening to the music.

'Every Sunday's getting more bleak, fresh poison each week.'

"This is a darker mood," Charles said gently listening to the words.

'…she tells me worship in the bedroom. The only heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you…'

"I'm hearing a theme," he said again but then quieted as the chorus kicked in.

'Take me to church. I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.'

'What's it about?" He asked, "Do you know it?"

"Anna likes him. She played the album to me, ages ago now, some of it was okay. I think it's about hypocrisy, the hypocrisy of the church and stating whom we love, who we can love. Homophobia. That's how I interpret it anyhow."

"The love laws. That's what Arundhati Roy called them."

"Is that a book?"

"The God of Small Things. A very odd but ultimately wonderful book, the relationships in that are determined by the Love Laws, who we are allowed to love going by society's rules."

"I might read it."

"I'll get you a copy. You can borrow mine."

"You surprise me, that you like such a book."

"Well, it's not just about that. I read all the new stuff that comes in, everything recommended and nominated for prizes and such. It's about India and…" he shot a glance across at her, "You think me homophobic?"

"No, of course not," she put the car into first gear as they eased forward slightly, "I guess I've never really thought about it."

"One of my friends is gay, Thomas, I've mentioned him before?"

"I don't know, I'm not sure."

"He's gay, though he flits from one relationship – I hesitate to call them such – to another. And that I don't agree with."

"I guess nowadays we are at least more aware of STDs. And children have such a different view of it all. Certainly when I was a child it was never even discussed, I don't know about you. And when Anna was at school 'gay' was used as an insult, a term to belittle other boys. From what I see now children don't do that so much, some do, don't get me wrong, depends on your background. But most are just accepting of it, thank goodness."

"Indeed."

She turned to glance at him; perhaps he was more liberal than she thought.

"So, talking of STDs…" he said, feeling his face flush red as the words passed his lips.

"Oh god, what are you going to tell me?"

"Nothing that's er…" he coughed, gripped his knee with his right hand. "We discussed, I mean you said that you… that you'd been to the Doctors recently… so I went and got tested just to be safe now that we're er… you know."

She grinned at him, "Having sex."

"Yes that."

She grinned again, "That."

"Don't embarrass me."

"Okay, I'm sorry." she looked away again; glad to see a 'Services' sign coming up. "So I'm guessing you're telling me because you got the all clear?"

"I did indeed."

"Alright. And what would you like me to do with that information?" She asked as she indicated to turn left.

He felt decidedly uncomfortable now, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Nothing, I just thought I'd tell you and… and I have, so that's that isn't it."

"Oh. Okay." She pulled into a space, biting her lip before giggling and unhooking her seatbelt. She leant over and kissed his cheek. "I'm only teasing you, thank you for getting tested. Means I'll have to discard the box of 100 condoms I was hoping to get through over the next four days but there you go, maybe I can save them for somebody else."

He twisted his neck sharply to look at her, then shook his head, "You're teasing again?"

"I am."

"You have a wicked sense of humour."

"I know. I'm very naughty. And now I'm going to run inside and use the toilet, you want me to get you anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay, won't be a minute."

Exactly eight minutes later Charles spied her exiting the Services, she carried a bottle of water in one hand (which he thought a bad idea considering her weak bladder) and waved a bag at him whilst grinning, her scarf blowing about her in the breeze. He hoped to god it wasn't a huge box of condoms. He'd die from shame if she mentioned it again.

She opened the passenger door and bent down beside him, "Got something for you."

"It's not a joke is it?"

"Of course not, what makes you think it would be?" She pulled out a cushion from the bag, adorned with the Scottish flag. "For your back in the car, should help support it, it's quite firm." She eased it behind him. "And patriotic too."

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful."

"I am thoughtful. A joke indeed." She tutted as she got back to her feet. "If I was going to joke I'd tell you I'd called the hotel and reinstated our separate rooms after the STD information."

"Oh god…" he groaned, listening to her wicked laughter as she moved around the car and got back in the driver's side.

Charles was lying half on top of her, half to one side, her head twisted to his on the pillow, their mouths communicating in soft, long kisses, unrushed, undemanding.

He could feel her fingertips running up and down his back, one hand on his arm doing the same, up to his neck then back down again. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her warm thighs still gripping him and the heat between her legs driving him to distraction.

They'd just made love (how he liked to think of it now) after arriving at the hotel less than an hour ago. Their suitcases still stood in the centre of the room, their clothes discarded, her jumper and bra hanging off the bottom of the bed.

Outside he could hear the rush of late afternoon traffic, the noise of a hotel preparing for a busy few days. In their room he could only hear the sound of her breathing, the tender moans coming from the back of her throat, the creak of the bed beneath them as they moved.

His lips travelled over her chin down to her neck, across her collarbone and then back up, her lips eagerly meeting his as their noses bumped. He felt her mouth curl into a smile, both of her hands gripping his shoulders as she giggled.

"What?" He murmured by her mouth, his voice thick with lust and desire, body heavy with the lethargy that follows sex.

When he opened his eyes hers were so close, sparkling bright blue, her cheekbones high and flushed with rose as she smiled knowingly. Their lips continued to stroke the others, as if unable to part for more than a second.

"I can't stop kissing you." He mumbled.

"I noticed." And he understood the reason for her smile.

"Well…" he breathed, pulling back slightly, one arm resting on the pillow by her head, his fingers toying with her hair spread out on the pillow. "You're intoxicating."

She grinned, "Am I? I can assure you I've certainly never been called that before."

"Well that's just ridiculous. Because you are, I'm proof of that."

She shifted slightly beneath him, moving her body marginally and he bit his lip to stifle the groan of what she was doing to him, what she did to him.

Her arms were still tight around his back, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other reaching up to stroke his cheek with the side of her hand. "You're such a good man," she whispered, his face centimetres from hers.

His brow furrowed, eyes almost hurt and she smiled gently at him, "I meant that positively, I'm not being flippant. You are a good man. And I haven't known many good men."

Her eyes turned sad but he held her gaze, silent for several seconds, the moment probably the most intense they'd shared so far – he'd never felt so close to her.

"I haven't known anybody like you. You're a very special woman Elsie."

"I think you think more of me than you should."

"Nonsense. You're quite…" He swallowed and she grinned.

"Intoxicating?"

"Yes… that… and more."

She tilted her chin again, her nose nudging his and he pressed his mouth against hers, soft and whole, feeling her hands slide down his back and grip his backside. He was still positioned between her legs and it didn't take much for his erection to come to life again – she was intoxicating, he was finding he couldn't get enough of her, in every sense.

Her groans filled his head as their bodies joined, her fingers on his shoulders firmer as her body rose beneath his, meeting together so deliciously – it seemed to him they were meant to fit together, though he was careful not to tell her as much.

She was still slick and felt so good, like heaven to him, he thought of the song from earlier in the day and embraced fully what the young man was saying. She was heaven. He'd finally found it.

This time it took little effort, no need to start slow and build the pleasure – they were both already on the edge and the slightest movement shot fissures of delight through their bodies. Every cell alive, every muscle tensed and ready for the approaching climax.

Collapsing on top of her his body seemed to be floating, there was buzzing in his ears and the sweet smell of her filling his nostrils. His lips whispered over her neck where his head lay and then he felt her throat constrict and her giggles filled his ears.

He lifted his head up, confused.

"I'm sorry," she waved a hand, covering her mouth to stifle her giggles but she couldn't keep it in. Her laughter was growing unmanageable. "That didn't even last three minutes." She laughed and he quickly joined in her mirth, their bodies moving in a very different way together now as their laughter filled the room.

"I guess it isn't just twenty-two year olds that get carried away."

She slid a hand up onto his shoulder, her giggles subsiding, "I guess so."

Pushing at his body she slipped out from beneath him and he rolled onto his side, supporting his head with one arm as he watched her sit on the edge of the bed and stretch her back. From his position he had a perfect view of her figure, the sway of her hair as it curled at the base of her neck, tickling her skin, the curve of her waist, the slight flair of her hips, the roundness of her bottom. He wanted to tiptoe his fingers down her spine and count each one of her freckles, dot each one with a kiss.

"Shall we go out for some food?" She asked, glancing back at him. "It's already going dark, not even five."

"Yes. Let's have a wander about."

"How's your back?" She said, her lips curling into a smile.

"Funnily enough I'd forgotten all about it."

Sighing she got to her feet and he watched transfixed as she crossed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Rolling onto his back he folded his arms beneath his head, realising after several minutes that there seemed to be a grin fixed to his face, it stretched his mouth, made his cheeks ache… and it felt wonderful.

They ate pizza, something Charles didn't often choose but she convinced him to give it a go. Some street vendor with an outdoor pizza oven and they bought three – the three flavours available – because neither could decide which to go for.

It was icy cold and they found an empty bench and sat with the boxes between them.

"We look greedy." Charles stated, never comfortable eating outdoors with passers-by looking on.

"Just indecisive," she smiled, but she flattened the pizza lid and rearranged the slices until they all fit on the one box, "there we go, better?"

"Yes."

"They're hardly large anyhow." She got up.

"Where are you off to now?"

She waved the empty boxes at him and he watched as she stuffed them into a nearby bin.

"And how do we…?"

Opening her bag she took out a bunch of napkins and handed some across to him.

"You're well organised."

"I picked them up from the side as you paid." She picked up a slice of pizza, "I'm starving."

"Me too." He selected one himself, rolling the tip of the triangular piece over and eating half of the slice in one bite – she'd over-exerted him already, and they'd only been there a few hours.

Leaning back in her seat she watched him eat, smiling at his obvious enjoyment.

"So, does it pass the Carson test? I know you love Italian food."

He wiped at his mouth as he chewed, "S'delicious."

She nodded, "It is," and picked up another slice. Her cheeks felt tight with the cold and she was already thinking of finding hot chocolate next. "So, what's been your best New Year's Eve?"

"My best… I'd struggle to pick one."

"You wild thing."

"I meant because they've hardly been memorable. I've had a fair few watching the fireworks on the BBC and then going to bed."

"Oh dear. Luckily for you my memories of New Year are pretty similar."

"I do recall a fair few raucous ones during my University days. Endless drinks and laughter and dancing."

"And girls?"

"Maybe. But I never got much farther than a dance and a drunken midnight fumble."

"Romantic."

"I try to be." He grinned, sitting back now his stomach was full and sated. "And you, raucous student days?"

"Hardly." She was wiping the sauce from her fingertips. "I didn't go to University in the same way, I was married, had Anna. I dropped her off at the nursery then went to attend my lectures, did my essays after she'd gone to bed." She shrugged. "Luckily the course was squashed into three day weeks, so I had time to do both that and be a housewife and mother. Now the teaching degree was the hard part."

His pride in her seemed to know no bounds, "How so?"

"Because I was on placement and basically working from 8 til 5 every day, then coming home and cooking and cleaning and putting Anna to bed and then starting my lesson plans and marking books and all that. Those placements must have thought me a real loner because I never joined them in the staff room or stopped to chat, I'd find a quiet corner and hide away working just so I had less to do at home."

"That's dedication though, I mean having all that, balancing all that." His own 'career' seemed pretty easily come by in comparison. "You must have been exhausted."

"On my knees. You finished?" He nodded and she closed up the box. "But it was my proudest moment, taking my daughter to watch me graduate."

"And your husband, friends, family, they must have been proud too."

"Only Anna came." She said gently, screwing up her napkin.

"Oh…" he felt intensely sad for her.

She shrugged, "My family was in Scotland and I didn't really communicate with them. I didn't really have time for any friends; I didn't meet Beryl until years later when I taught her son. And… Joe had to work… you can't just take the day off in farming."

He licked his lips, his mouth dry, "I guess not." He wanted to touch her, draw her body into his and hold her for a while; somehow hoping his presence would be enough to ease those painful memories.

He watched as she discarded the other pizza box and returned to him, pulling her gloves from her bag. The momentary gloomy demeanour gone as quickly as it arrived.

"So, I'm bloody freezing." She stated, "Shall we walk along the rest of the market? Try and fine some hot chocolate perhaps."

"Good idea." He got up first, holding his hand out for her, she took it, hooking her arm through his and leaning in closer to his body for the warmth. His coat was thick and smelt of books, which made her smile.

"You need a hat." She said, looking up at him.

"I'm fine."

"It's icy cold Charles, you need a hat to cover your ears. If I can look ridiculous in one then you can too."

"But you don't look ridiculous," he smiled, glancing down at her white, woolly hat pulled down over her ears, her hair framing her face. "You look kinda cute."

"Kinda cute, not fully cute?"

He chuckled, "I can assure you I'll fully look an idiot."

"Let's see."

She dragged him across to a stall with a range of hats hanging up, and took a dark blue one from the table, stretching it between her fingers to check the size. "The label says extra large but I'm not sure…" Turning she stood on her tiptoes and reached up to stretch the hat on his head. "Bit tight." She laughed.

"Ha bloody ha, I look an idiot, as predicted." He pulled it off and she took it from him, laying it back on the table.

He stood back, hands in pockets, as she rifled through the pile of hats, selecting a dark grey one and checking the size again.

"Extra, extra large," she stated, waggling her eyebrows at him.

"Don't be vulgar Mrs Hughes," he said, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.

"There," she said happily, standing back to look at him, "that fits fine, it looks fine."

"I feel foolish."

"Nonsense. You look fine; it'll keep you warm. You'll need it when we're stood here at midnight watching fireworks."

"Can't we watch from the hotel window?"

"Don't be silly," she dug into her handbag and took out her purse, handing over a five-pound note to the vendor and waiting for her change.

"You didn't have to pay for it."

"Consider it a festive treat." She hooked her arm back through his again. "And you did pay for dinner."

"Nine pounds on pizza is hardly a proper dinner."

"Luckily for you I'm easily pleased." She laughed, and he hoped to God she was only talking about street pizza. "There, hot chocolate stall, I'm having a drop of Irish cream in mine if they have it." She said, leading him towards it.

"You have eyes like a hawk. You never miss a thing."

"I often know the gossip first at work. It's either that I'm nosey or people see me as trustworthy."

"The latter, I'm sure." He pulled his wallet out, "I can buy you a drink at least."

"Oh, go on then. If you have to be chivalrous."

They walked towards the castle cradling their drinks, Elsie's arm still holding onto his, she told herself it was for warmth but she felt calm with him, safe being by his side. And that was a feeling she didn't want, or dare, to explore any further.

"Shall we do the castle tomorrow then?" He asked, gazing up at it, floodlit and glowing like a beacon on the hill.

"Yes, let's." She finished her drink, "That was gorgeous." She turned to face him, her chest pressing against his, and covered her mouth as she yawned.

"Travel catching up with you?" He said, his smile warm.

"Hmm," she stood even closer whispering, "That or the sex."

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands looping against her back. "I felt rather invigorated by it."

Her eyes sparkled, "Did you indeed? Certainly it seemed to ease your back problems."

He was chuckling as he reached for her hand, turning them around, "We'll walk back then?"

"Yes."

"Did I hear a phone?" Charles asked as he came out of the bathroom, Elsie was sitting on the bed on top of the sheets, her legs tucked beneath her, glasses perched on her nose as she tapped away on her mobile.

"It was mine, Anna texting me to check I'd arrived okay?"

"Was she worried you wouldn't?"

"I think she was concerned you were going to chop me into pieces and sell me off a bit at a time. So I just told her you were using me for sex but not to worry as you'd been tested for STDs."

"Are you ever going to let that drop?"

"Not today." She ruffled his hair as she passed him to head into the bathroom.

"Then thank god it's almost over…" he glanced at the clock, "Hey it's 1:17, it's a new day."

"Unless we count it as twenty four hours since you made the revelation," she said, digging her toothbrush out of her bag.

"Lord above, and I can't get away. Maybe I could go sleep in the car…" he mumbled, plumping his pillow and sliding into bed.

"Sleep in the car? Isn't that rather rude?"

She exited the bathroom some minutes later, switching off the light. "Is that what you're sleeping in?"

"Isn't that rather rude?" He glanced down at his thick pyjamas – it was December in Scotland after all. "What are you sleeping in?"

She untied her robe, throwing it over the bottom of the bed and standing before him naked, "This."

"You're going to give me a bloody heart attack."

She shrugged, "If you're sleeping in the car my being naked won't affect you."

"Believe me – it'll affect me." He unbuttoned his pyjama top and threw it over her robe before holding a hand to her. "Better?"

"Getting there." She crawled across the bed to him, pressing a kiss to his mouth and then clambering over him to slip beneath the sheets. "Switch the lights off then Mr C, it's late and I'm tired. Had a very busy day driving."

He shook his head at her, turning off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness he lay down beside her.

"Mr C?" He finally questioned.

She smirked, "Shh, it's late." She turned onto her side, her back to him; he noted how she slept with her legs slightly curled up.

He turned onto his side behind her, staring at her bare back.

"Elsie?" He whispered, hardly making a sound.

"Hmm?"

"May I hold you?"

She let out a long breath, "Of course." He scooted up behind her, sliding one arm over her waist and smiling when her hand closed over his on her stomach. "You don't need to ask."

When Charles woke it was still dark, despite it being after nine. If they didn't get up soon they'd miss breakfast but as it was he was reluctant to get out of bed. He'd rather lie there with her, his eyes still closed, her warm and fragrant pressed against him, and then eat elsewhere and pay the extra cost.

Somehow in the night he'd ended up on his back with Elsie lying across him, one leg draped over his, her arm wrapped around his stomach, her head on his shoulder. Just the nearness of her seemed to awaken every fibre of his being.

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaled deeply, felt his chest tighten at the sensation as he filled himself with her. Charles Carson had never been this way before; sure there'd been women over the years, dates, the occasional extended period of dating, two awkward one night stands but never this… all of this. More than attraction, more than lust and desire, she seemed to reach him on every level. To him they were beyond dating now, this was a fully-fledged relationship. And he didn't use that word casually.

She moved against him and he pressed his mouth to her head, felt her leg shift, her thigh warm as he clung against his skin. Her head tipped backward on his shoulder, her hand flexing, arm sliding back as she woke.

Tilting his head down he sought her mouth with his, kissing her cheek, brushing her nose with his. His hands wandered down, her breasts filling his palms, that sweet weight, skin like silk through his fingertips.

"It's New Year's Eve…" He heard her whisper as she rolled onto her back.

"Mmm…" His mouth moved over where his fingertips had just travelled, his tongue swirling around her nipple.

He felt the breath escape her chest, "Last day of 2014." Her fingers slid into his hair as his mouth moved from one breast to the other.

"Been rather a good year," he mumbled against her skin.

She smiled, closing her eyes as he moved lower, understanding exactly his intentions – surprised by them perhaps but more than willing.

One of his hands rested on her stomach, stroking, tickling, the other between her legs. They were still relatively early in their sexual relationship, everything was new, exciting, undiscovered and both were still unsure of the other's boundaries. But judging from the delighted sounds escaping Elsie's mouth he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Anything at all.

Watching her come completely undone before him brought him as much pleasure as if it were his own orgasm. She held onto his hand, squeezing as she climaxed, gripping his fingers still as she came down from the high.

"Well…" she breathed heavily, her free hand reaching down and sliding into his hair, tugging on the thick strands.

"Well?" He asked, kissing her stomach, moving back up her body.

"Well, that was unexpected."

"Was it?" He folded his arms just below her breasts and rested his chin on his hands. "You mean because you were still half asleep or because it's me?"

She bit her cheek, twisting her mouth to one side, her eyes sparkling. "I'll just say that all the years I've been visiting your shop and chatting with you over a cashier's counter I'd never quite pictured you doing what you just did…"

He pouted, "I'm not going to tell you if I've pictured it."

Giggling she reached her hand down and stroked his shoulder, "You want the shower first or should I?"

"You go, then breakfast before the castle?"

"Sounds like a plan."

He rolled onto his back, allowing her to get up. She reached for her robe and stood, tying it around her waist and smirking at his relaxed posture.

"Don't fall back to sleep."

"Just resting my eyes."

She leant over him, kissing his smile. "Sure.

The morning was bitter so they did the interior of the castle after breakfast, wandering from section to section studiously following the guidebook and listening to the audio guide as they went.

They lost each other part way through and once she'd reached the end of a section Elsie took off her headphone and wandered back around searching for him.

She found him standing in the corner of a room pressing furiously at the buttons on his audio system. Shaking her head she made her way over, startling him as she rested her hand on his arm.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He shrugged, "Can't hear you."

Chuckling she removed his headphones, "I said what's wrong."

"This thing keeps telling me the same thing over and over again, I want to know about this armour."

"Look," she took the device from him typing in the numbers beneath the armour. "Now try."

He slid the headphones back on and nodded giving her the thumbs up.

She caught his arm again, mouthing, "I'll wait outside." And left him to finish the tour.

It had warmed fractionally outside and no signs of snow. She remembered bitter winters on the farm as a child, wading through snow that came above her knees, walking the back lanes to school when the bus didn't arrive.

She'd worried how she'd feel being back in Scotland. Luckily Edinburgh held no special family memories but every now and then she'd hear the heavy accent, a deep timbre shaking her bones, and glance about as if searching for her father.

Closing her eyes she let the breeze ruffle her hair, whip past her face; she remembered how she'd felt that morning – waking with Charles, his adoration, his tenderness.

"I don't want something too heavy for lunch." He suddenly said by her ear causing her to jump.

"Oh, okay." She turned her head slightly as he stood close behind her wrapping up his headphones.

"Do we keep these?"

"There's a box inside for them."

"Ah," he kissed her cheek, "be lost without you."

She waited for him to return, scanned her phone for messages, only one from Beryl checking she was having a good time – she assured her she was.

"Ready then?"

"Ready." She said, popping her phone back into her bag. "We'll get a snack then, a drink and then finish here?"

"Sure."

"There's a little place that looked nice."

She turned in its direction, feeling his hand settle on her back as they made their way through the crowds. It was comforting.

"Just something light," he said, watching her work her way through the blackboard menu on the wall. "…If we're going out for dinner later."

"You said. What time did you book it for?"

"Eight. Figured that would give us long enough to eat and then have a couple of hours wandering around, soaking up the atmosphere."

He waggled his finger at the board, "What's this – clootie pudding?"

She slipped her glasses off as she turned to look at him, "Mmm, it's a bit like, like a Christmas pudding I suppose. You'll probably like it, it's traditional, hearty fare."

"I might have that. And a strong coffee, I need waking up."

"Okay. I'll go order, you want to try and find a table somewhere," she glanced around the small coffee shop, "anywhere that's free!"

She was quiet as they ate, distracted almost. He tried a couple of times to engage her in conversation but her answers were minimal. Deciding she just wanted a moment to herself he read through the guidebook he'd purchased, noting things he wanted to look at when they returned.

"What did you think?" She asked as he pushed his empty bowl away.

"Was good. Not quite Christmas pudding but still good." He closed his book. "You okay?"

She rested her chin on her folded hands, "Why? Do I not seem it?"

"You seem… a little quieter."

"I'm fine. Was just remembering some things…" she shrugged, "things you forget when you're away from home. I've been away from Scotland for so long I'd forgotten how it made me feel."

"Do you…" he'd never been very good at the emotional stuff. "I mean… do you want to talk about it? With me, I mean."

She smiled, reaching over to pat his hand. "No it's fine Charles. I'll be fine. Are you ready to brave the weather and wander the exterior?"

"Yes, when you are."

She finished her tea, "I'll just nip to the bathroom and meet you outside."

"Think I'll go too." She noticed his grimace as he got to his feet.

"Are you alright Mr Carson?"

"Just a twinge, bloody back still giving me trouble."

She rested her hand on his lower back, "You sure you don't want to go back to the hotel. It'll be a long day."

"No. Best for me to move around and not let it stiffen up. And I wouldn't miss tonight's celebrations for the world."

Okay - part two won't be far behind. But in the mean time... please let me know what you think so far! xxx