The afternoon had been a success, the picnic of birthday cake and pink lemonade had left them feeling full and happy. Grace had spent an hour at the park putting Rita's upper arm muscles to the test by asking her to push her on the swings, and they'd taken the long route back to the car, doing a circuit of the park, passing the newly built band stand and the duck pond, and back to the skeleton of the elm tree and the car beneath.

Rita had driven them back, though there was no real need for her too, and now they were home.

Grace and Rita were curled up on the sofa together in the sitting room, a blanket pulled over them, so that from where Connie stood in the door frame - half way between the kitchen and the sitting room - she could only see the top of Rita's blonde head, and her sock clad feet sticking out from opposite ends of the blanket.

The kettle came to a rolling boil behind her, and reluctantly she turned from where she stood to made her way back into the kitchen. It had been a long day, but a happy one. She felt as though she could just curl up in bed, lay her head against Rita's chest and fall asleep without a care in the world.

She drew in a breath and smiled to herself as she spooned hot chocolate into two mugs, a mug for Grace, and a larger one for Rita and she reached for the kettle as the rising notes of 'Let it Go' began to play from the other room. She bit her lip against her smile and listened as she heard both Rita and Grace begin to sing along, Rita murmuring the odd word that she didn't know, and Grace laughing at her mid-warble.

She watched as the hot chocolate powder turned the water brown, pausing before stirring it, watching the bubbles rise to the top.

She thought about their day, how happy Rita had made her, how she'd allowed Grace to have the spot light – decorating the cake, the cards, and helping her to make the beautiful necklace and bracelet she wore now.

With her free hand she touched her fingers to the necklace, fingering the single pink bead. How could she tell her, she wondered? She had no idea how much Grace knew about relationships, homosexual or otherwise. She sighed and pushed the tips of her fingers against the bridge of her nose.

"Penny for 'em?"

Rita was behind her and she hadn't even heard her enter. She exhaled through a smile and turned, finding Rita so close to her that their lack of physical contact caused a sharp stab of physical pain within Connie's chest.

"Oh, I was just...taking stock? Isn't that what birthdays are for?"

She lowered her gaze to where her fingers touched together at her waist.

Rita smiled slowly, her eyes narrowed, not quite convinced.

"Grace is hungry..."

She said, and Connie raised an eyebrow.

"Grace is always hungry."

Rita raised a hand to just touch against Connie's fingers.

"I said I'd make her some toast. Why don't you go and sit with her?"

She asked, squeezing the other woman's fingers. Instinctively she could sense her apprehension, she knew what she was feeling, and she knew that she was worrying.

"Ok?"

She asked again when Connie didn't reply.

"Ok."

Connie whispered glanced up, her eyes sparkling with a hidden smile.

"Thank you."

She leaned in closer - she couldn't help it.

"For everything."

She drew Rita in, and kissed her, without a thought. She kissed her softly and sweetly, pulling her close, running her hands up across the smaller woman's arms, across her shoulders and up into her hair, cupping her face.

"Mummy?"

The very sound of Grace's voice made the two women pull apart, Rita took several steps backwards, clearing her throat as Connie reversed into the kitchen counter top, wincing as her hip met with the handle of a drawer.

"Grace! You made me jump!"

Grace stood in the doorway, her face was hot and pink, and she looked between the two woman, her dark eyes finally settling on her mother. She just seemed to stand there, breathing in and out, a frown creasing her forehead.

"Grace..."

Connie pushed her hair behind her ears and folded her arms across her chest before unfolding them again, worrying that her stance may appear too defensive.

"Why were you kissing her?"

Grace asked eventually, her voice high and thin, her arms stiff by her sides.

Connie paused, her mouth was dry, and when she swallowed her throat hurt. She drew in a breath, steadying herself, not daring to glance towards Rita who she could glimpse from the corner of her eye, just a smudge of blonde in her peripheral vision.

"Sweetheart, there's something that Rita and I need to tell you."

But Grace began to turn away from her, making her way silently out of the room, like a ghost, moving without really seeming to.

"Grace...Grace! Grace, wait..."

Connie followed her, realising as she moved how icy the tiled floor was against her sock clad feet, how white and sterile the room was, how cold the house had become in only an instant.

"Grace..."

She shivered as she caught hold of her daughters arm, stopping her as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She could smell her skin, her hair...and she remembered all at once how she used to smell as a baby, cuddled up in her arms. Scent seemed so insignificant in this moment, though suddenly it seemed to be the most evocative of senses.

She knelt down before her, and Grace looked at her in disgust, her chest rose and fell quickly and her eyes were hot and pink with anger.

"I was going to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

Grace asked sharply, shaking her arm free from Connie's grasp and folding them tightly across her chest.

Connie held her breath, she could feel her flesh prickling with panic, with this feeling that had haunted her and inhabited her each day whilst she worried about this very moment, like a sickness, it covered her, like skin.

"About Rita and I...that we're seeing one another..."

"But you didn't."

Grace said flatly and Connie placed her hands on her knees.

"No... but..."

"You just didn't bother telling me, just like you never bother telling me anything! You never think about me!"

"Grace!"

Connie made to reach out again as Grace began to climb the stairs but Grace tossed her arms in an over-exaggerated movement, flapping her touch away.

"It's just like Grandma said it would be!"

She shouted, her breath catching.

"You care more about your work than looking after your own daughter and now you'll have even less time for me because of HER!"

She paused on the third step up to glare at Rita, her hands clenched into fists, staring down at her mother who knelt on the cold tiled floor, stunned.

"It's not like that, Grace..."

"Well I don't want to spend time with you either... I want to go home."

Grace's voice was beginning to rise again, and the her cheeks were so flushed that she could feel them throbbing.

"And I don't mean HERE!"

She shouted, and crashed up the stairs, taking each step with a slam of her feet against the wood, kicking the rises as she went.

-.-

More later! Apologies for no update last night, we had a difficult evening. Hope you're all looking forward to today's updates :) xxx