The pens lined up on her desk so neatly. Connie adjusted a stray highlighter before she turned to the wooden box in front of her. She opened the box of pencils with care, drinking in the smell of grease and wood. She didn’t believe that pencils could cost so much money, every penny of her birthday money had gone on this small box of 30. Yet her grandfather had taken her into London, to the specialist shop and the second she held the test ones in her hands she knew they were different. These weren’t the scratchy things that she used at school to colour in pictures of their topic of the term. These were the pencils she would keep to move the ideas that bounced around her mind onto the thick paged sketch pad that her grandfather had insisted on buying for her as well.
Before she had a chance to try her new prized possession there was a call of dinner from downstairs. She gave a sigh and pushed the box to one side.
Three times during dinner her mother told her to slow down. Rupert pushed his own food around his plate not eating much of anything, yet she never picked up on him.
Connie also resented having to do chores whilst Rupert sat on his bum reading comic books. By the time she finally finished loading the dishwasher she was itching to get back to her room, to finally escape and draw.
She reached the top of the stairs just as Rupert was coming out of her room.
“What are you doing in my room?” She accused him as she stood with her hand on her hip.
There was a cruel smirk that danced across the young boy’s face before it dropped and he innocently held his hands up. “Nothing.”
Not convinced but she stood aside to let him pass to head towards the stairs himself. She scrunched her face as she took the few steps to her room. Her hand stopped on the door, without pushing it open and something made her turn. Rupert’s feet thumped loudly down the steps and she knew what was going to happen next like a weird sense of deja vu.
“Muuuuum!” Rupert’s voice rang over the bottom floor searching for their mother. “Connie drew all over my new comic book!!”
Panicked, Connie pushed open the door to her room. There on her desk was the comic book with ugly scrawls across the open pages. Next to it, and her heart sank, were her new pencils, or what was left of them. Those that were not snapped were blunted, worn flat.
“CONSTANCE!”
The tears hit the bright comic book pages and she realised she had no defence, or at least none her mother would believe.
Patrick stared down at Connie in sympathy. She looked so adorable curled up with the duvet wrapped tightly around her. If it wasn't for the clammy skin and the flushed cheeks, one would almost believe she had fallen asleep on the bed but his cara was sick.
He had come home from work and discovered her fast asleep on the bathroom floor, her skin hot to the touch, and when he woke her, she had wasted no time in complaining her tummy was upset and then promptly emptied what was left of its contents into the toilet for the third time that evening. He'd held her hair back like any good man would have done and then convinced her to have a cold shower in attempt to ward off the fever that was burning her skin. Afterwards, he carried her into bed where he settled her, with a bucket and water, where she had swiftly fallen back asleep and stayed there until the next day. He’d slept in the spare room and then taken the next day off, ready to do any doctor or pharmacy runs she might need.
Patrick rested his hand on her forehead, relieved to find that though she was still warm, the temperature no longer sat at such frightening heights. He whispered her name gently and Connie stirred at his touch and voice; smiled up at him when she opened her eyes and met his gaze.
Connie’s had opened her eyes with effort, the throbbing headache was still there, but at least she didn't have the urge to vomit every three seconds. An involuntary shiver ran down her body and the duvet prickled on her skin, she was hot, she was cold, she was dying. More sleep was needed.
A quiet whisper of her name roused her once again and Patrick was crouched beside the bed, smoothing her hair away from her face. "How is your tummy feeling?"
"Better," she told him after a big yawn. "But I hurt all over." Connie raised a hand to her eyes and attempted to rub the tiredness and sickness out of them, all at the same time.
“I've bought you some more water and can make some soup if you are feeling better.”
Her heart swelled and she relaxed into a smile. “Just the water for now, thank you so much. I love you." she told him groggily.
He met her smile and leaned towards her. "I love you too, mia cara."
He helped her sit, propping the pillows behind her back and lifted the glass for her. Her independent streak went out of the window as she tried to grip the glass and with another shiver, it slipped.
"Crap." She watched in slow motion as the liquid seeped into not only the duvet but her pyjamas too.
"Don't worry, let's get you out of those wet pyjamas and I'll changed the bed sheets."
"Are you trying to see me naked?" She quipped as best she could with her croaky voice.
"Far from it. In your state I don't want to come near you with a barge pole." He fluffed the covers as he pulled them off the bed, causing her to groan and haul herself up.
"Thanks." She pulled a fresh nightdress from her drawer, she normally did not wear them, but with her temperature running all over the place, the cool cotton would be soothing on her skin.
"No, I don't mean like that, I just don't want to catch it too." He made swift work of getting the wet sheets off and putting dry ones on.
"We've been sleeping in the same bed; if it’s contagious you're going to catch it but I think it might have been those dodgy prawns." She settled back down into the bed as he laughed and tucked her in. Lying down beside her he stroked her forehead gently as her eyes fluttered close. Before long she had fallen asleep once again.
It was dusk when she woke next. With a groan, she knew that sleeping all day would mean she would struggle to sleep at night. She felt the mattress depress down behind her.
“Don’t. I'm too hot,” she whinged.
“That’s why I’ve been walking around the house naked for the past hour, so I’m nice and cold.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Connie moaned as Patrick put his cold hands under her nightie and on the small of her back, the shock made her breath intake sharply. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”
He let out a small scoff. “Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “It was nice, really, if you want to carry on…”
“Let me try something else.” His lips made contact with her spine, licking and kissing. Something inside turned to jelly, it was just what she liked. His icy fingers followed his warm tongue. She mewed in appreciation.
"I thought you didn't want to catch anything?"
"And you pointed out, I've probably already been infected, so be quiet and let me make sure you sleep." She felt his cock starting to harden between her arse cheeks. As nice as the kissing was, she was not too sure she was up to anything strenuous. His cock gave a twitch that neither could ignore. “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t meant to happen.”
“Really? But let’s be honest I’d be worried if it didn’t.” Connie sighed as she relaxed into the familiar hold of his body spooning against her. All this and his lips and tongue never left her. The continued to lick and kiss her neck and back, each brought a further purr out of her and then a groan came forth that was pain not pleasure.
"Sorry, darling, did I hurt you?"
"No I’m feeling shit again," she complained, her hand moving to rest on her stomach.
"Your tummy?" he asked, pulling back the duvet and lifting the edge of her nightdress, revealing soft skin. He leaned down and over her pressing his lips to the skin there performing a soft kiss. "How's that?"
"It hurts here too," she moaned, pulling the neck of her nightdress down to reveal one of her shoulders.
He moved and pressed his lips there as well. "Anywhere else?"
"Here," she turned the inside of her arm towards him and he pressed another kiss to the inside of her elbow. "And here," she tilted her head and gave him access to the side of her neck.
He allowed his lips to linger there, drawing a slight sigh through her lips. "Here too." she pressed a palm against her temple and closed her eyes as she rolled onto her back. "Maybe I should take some more paracetamol."
He dropped yet another kiss on her forehead and leaned back to look at her, a small grin forming on his lips. "You know what the best cure for a headache is?"
Connie met his smile with small scoff and a smile. "It hurts here too," Her hand crept between her legs, and his eyes followed the trail drawing a small groan from his own lips.
"We shouldn't," he told her, his expression turned serious. "You should be resting."
She frowned and pushed her lips out into a pout. “I thought you wanted it." she told him, lightly letting her fingers trace down his chest, across his stomach and even lower to the jutting cock. "I think that it might be just what I need to recover, just slow. Please."
Patrick didn't ask again. He slowly eased down her body, gathering every bit of anticipation he could render and eased up the nightdress higher. She smiled spreading her legs wide, allowing him to take his time to enjoy the view which he did so with appreciation.
A moment later, he lowered his head. Connie gripped the pillow behind her head with her fists, clenching her inner muscles with building bliss at Patrick's tongue swirled around her sensitive nub. His tongue continued to taunt and tease her clitoris while she writhed with pleasure. The air was coming out of her lungs in short, excited breaths and her cheeks flushed pink with erotic ecstasy instead of fever. Patrick circled his tongue slowly down one side of her pulsing clit and then up the other, bringing a moan from her lips. He lightly scraped his teeth right over her hot spot and she cried out thrusting her pussy up towards his face, begging him for release. He gave in taking her sensitive nub into his mouth sucking lightly for the first couple of seconds, then changing his pace, his tongue sent her over the edge. Her cries echoed off the bedroom room walls as her body vibrated with release.
Patrick kept his mouth on her until she collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion. He grinned with pleasure and dropped a kiss on the inside of her thigh and then another on her lower abdomen and then all the way up to her forehead. He frowned at the warmth he felt there and lifted a hand to her heated forehead. "How are you feeling?"
Connie opened her eyes and grinned sexily at him. "My headache is gone."
He smiled and crawled off the bed. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go and get a cold flannel for your forehead. Your fever is starting to come back."
"Wait!" she cried, grabbing onto his arm. "We haven't taken care of you yet." Her gaze dropped purposely to his cock.
Patrick leaned down and dropped another kiss at the corner of her mouth. "It's alright. I can wait for when you're feeling better."
He turned and left her staring at his back with an expression of contentment resting on her flushed face. The sleepiness had overcome her by the time he returned to the bedroom. He laid the damp flannel over her head before pulling on his own pyjama bottoms and crawling in next to her. He held his cara gently, whispering a nonsense lullaby into her ear, as her body relaxed into a healing sleep.
Connie: I know Ben’s away, can I pop around in a bit? I have a little surprise.
Connie didn’t wait for Bonnie’s reply before gathering the archive box she had been keeping in the corner of the sewing room and popping it in the back of her car along with a bottle of nice Prosecco and some takeaway menus.
Eagerly she drove over as fast as the speed limit and traffic allowed and was soon ringing Bonnie’s doorbell.
Bonnie had only just gotten out of the shower and opened the message from Connie when the doorbell rang. She wondered whether this was the delivery that she had expected all week - three sets of A-Level textbooks - which the couriers had been putting off all week. Half dressed in her pyjamas, she stormed toward the door, trying to look furious as she threw it open.
“I don’t kn-Connie?” She took in her friend’s eager expression, the folder in her hands, and the bottle of bubbly under her arm as she tilted her head. “H-Hello… what have you got there?”
Connie grinned in reply. “Now I know you probably have had some thoughts but I’ve been getting some bits together based on what you said you liked, and I thought what better time to get on with things when Ben’s away because then you’ve got something nice to think about rather than dwelling on him not being here, and I know that he will want to have some input but I know that he will also be mostly happy with pretty much anything you decide…” She took a breath and held out the bottle of sparkling wine. “I’ve brought wine and I’ll throw in the takeaway too.”
Bonnie frowned for a moment and tilted her head just a little, trying to process what Connie was on about. She had an inkling, but didn’t want to embarrass anyone. “Are you trying to say you’ve been planning my wedding for me?” She managed to mumble eventually, then, “you know how to say the word, don’t you? Wed-ding?” For a moment, she watched Connie process that she herself had been caught out. Bonnie looked her friend over, taking in the glee in her expression, her sparkling eyes and the massive folder once more, resigning herself to a confusing night. “At least there’s wine. Come in, it’s bloody cold.”
“Sorry.” Connie said sheepishly as she followed Bonnie into the warm house. “I just kind of started to find Autumn bits and colours, and then I found myself researching dresses that would suit your shape, and by the time I was buying more plastic wallets I realised that I’d gone too far and you’d probably hate everything so if I show you now you might get a chance to stop me. But please forgive me, I was getting so excited and I needed a little project of my own.” She heaved a sigh. “And now I’ve been waffling and I’m going to need a drink.”
She couldn’t help it. It was just too cute. Bonnie let her exasperation drop and pulled her friend into a tight hug.
“Thank you. For thinking of me. And planning for me… and knowing how picky I am and knowing when to stop and check with me.” She gave Connie another squeeze. “I’ll pour drinks. You order Chinese food. Set up on the living room floor, spread everything out. We can have a wedding planning slumber party.” Bonnie grinned and looked at her friend. “Cold? I’ll get you a jumper?”
“I’m fine, thanks. I did that awful girlfriend thing of stealing one of Patrick’s.” Connie pulled it out from the box, along with the menus as she got comfy on the floor.
She spread out the plastic wallets, as she relayed their usual order down the phone to her favourite restaurant, making piles that were roughly ‘dress’, ‘decoration’, ‘flowers’ and the like.
Within a few minutes, Bonnie had returned, bearing two glasses of red wine and a jumper under her arm. “If you’re wearing your man’s, then I get to wear mine.” She fluffed out the cardigan once she had passed over their drinks and pulled it around her, buttoning it up to her shoulders. “Hmmm. Aftershave.” She tucked it in more and settled beside Connie as she looked over the piles. Everything looked intimidating, although the colours Bonnie could see were enticing… She took a sip of her wine and frowned just a little. “Mmkay, where do we start?”
“Until you have an idea of venue the best we can do is colours and ideas; type of seating, lighting and things could get adjusted dependent on the setting but hopefully most place can accommodate what you want.” Connie passed over some of the first wallets with autumnal colours and flowers in. “The only other thing you need to think seriously about is the dress. Could make or break how amazing you feel on the day. A stray itch or an awkward shape and you’ll spend more time trying to adjust that than enjoy yourself.”
Bonnie nodded along with Connie as she pulled out the different colours and flowers from the wallets. There was an abundance of reds and golds - pleasing to the eye, warm and inviting - and a streak of cobalt blue through some of the pages left Bonnie feeling more settled. She set aside the oranges, browns and autumnal yellows in favour of the deeper crimson and smiled at Connie.
“So in terms of colours, theme will match the men will match the accents on anything I wear will match the bridesmaid dresses, right?” She tilted her head, still a little nonplussed, biting her lip as she looked at Connie nervously. “And… well…” She shook her head. “I… I want an outdoor wedding. I’ve looked it up. I know it’s an issue so we need to find somewhere to do it, but… that’s my one stipulation.”
“Oh, outside, okay.” Connie shuffled through a folder, pulling out a sheet of paper on the legalities. “You’d need to find somewhere with a covered pagoda or something similar that’s licensed, otherwise you’ll be heading to Scotland.” She handed the sheet to Bonnie to look over. “As for colours yes, generally a main colour and an accent. Bridesmaids would wear the main colour, then the gents could wear waistcoats in that too, the accent could then be on things like ribbons that tied things. Either go for contrasting colours or shades of the same.” She nodded to the crimson in Bonnie’s hand. “Depends on who’s wearing it, the red can be quite striking for the bridesmaids. The blue would be a bold choice but set against an outside world it may look a bit jarring. Might be better to go with a green or gold… And I’m rambling again.”
“Ooh,” Bonnie tilted her head and wiggled her toes thoughtfully, “I don’t… I don’t want a pagoda.” She bit her lip and grabbed her phone. “I haven’t done a lot of planning but… something I’ve always wanted…” She pulled out an image of a simple set of chairs, an archway of autumn leaves, and the couple stood in the centre. “We may have to look elsewhere but…” She chewed on her lip, shyly. “Shall we sort this… then colours?”
“Bonnie, that is gorgeous.” Connie looked over the picture and gave her thumb nail a little bite. "We need to find somewhere in Scotland then. Woodland like the trees here? Or something like a meadow, or beach, or higher ground, or by one of the Lochs? Are you sure Autumn is not going to be too cold?”
Blushing a little, Bonnie nodded. “I’d prefer a little chill in the air. That makes the evening, the dancing, the being together all the more warming. Plus… outside you can have a bonfire.” She wriggled in her space, tilting her head at Connie. “I don’t think we’ve ever had the wedding conversation, have we? Eight-year-old dreams of being a fairy nymph on the edge of a loch, dancing under the stars at dusk around a bonfire and lighting the ceremony with candles…” She shook her head, “I’m carrying myself away.”
“No, carry on!” Connie gave a little laugh. “It’s one of my favourite topics. I’ve probably been planning mine since I was about 8 or 9 myself. I’d always imagined… well something out of Downton Abbey, 1920s elegance with big cars and lamp lit ballrooms. But that’s on a shelf for some time never now. So let’s plan your little nature fairy-tale.” Connie grabbed her sketchbook and began to draw a rough outline of the picture Bonnie had found, adding some of the embellishments she’d mentioned. “You find the place and I’ll make the magic.”
Bonnie watched her friend, smiling sadly at the little brush aside of her dreams.
“Finding the place will be the hard thing. I wouldn’t know where to start, other than lodges around the lochs up north, if it has to be Scotland.” She wiggled her toes again. “We could look at Lomond. Or Ness? They’re big enough to have secluded parts.” She hummed again, her mind flitting to all parts and all angles, “And I think I’d like deep red for my bridesmaids. It suits you, after all. And Christine.” She bit her lip. “Give me a topic, I’ll waffle and you can extrapolate important things…”
Connie’s pencil stopped scribbling for a second. “You don’t have to change the subject for me, I’m happy, a glorified party is not my dream any more. But yours is… so… deep red…” She flicked through one of the folders. “Here are some dresses I found for bridesmaids, obviously if you want to borrow a red pen and shade over one you like that might be in the wrong colour. And in this one…” She handed over a smaller sketchbook. “are some designs I did for you.”
“I’m not changing the subject, Connie. There’s a… Metric fuckton of shit in my head, I’m just calling it as I see it,” Bonnie giggled a little as she looked through the bridesmaid dresses. “These are nice.” She set a couple aside and smiled as she turned to the pile of designs that Connie had offered her. “You did these for me?”
Her heart had leapt into her mouth and she chewed at her bottom lip, shocked at the intricacy and prettiness of Connie’s designs. “Really, for me?”
“Of course. This is what I do for a day job, Bonnie, it’s the least I can do for you.” Connie smiled, pointing to several of the dresses. “If you like the idea from one but from bits from another I can redraw. Maybe these sleeves with that overlay?” She sat back and took a sip from her wine. “And if you’d rather go to actual wedding dress designer, I won’t be offended either. These are just ideas from what I know about you. Lace and beading, a little more coverage for your modesty, but mainly so we don’t get to see the groom molest you at the altar.”
Bonnie was entirely taken aback. Her friends were so genuinely kind to her - they gave her these things and gently nudged her in different ways to be better. Her heart swelled a little more and she threw her arms around Connie, tears burning at the corner of her eyes.
“Thank you.” She whispered. “Nobody - nobody has done something like this for me. Has offered me things like this. I don’t know how to say…” She pulled away, giving her eyes a wipe. “I’d love for you to design my dress. I would be so honoured.” Her hands shook a little as she turned the pages, her heart thumping a bit louder. “I… Those long sleeves… With this overlay, the sheerness and pattern…” she gestured quietly at two designs next to each other. “And this column… Style? So it’s got consistency as well as simplicity? I’m making shit up again, aren’t I?”
Connie shook her head as she dabbed at her own eyes. “It all makes sense.” She picked up a pencil and turning over a sheet with what we’re now superfluous ideas on, she began to sketch quickly what she hoped was the combination that Bonnie was after. “You are my friend Bonnie. I’m doing this out of love and affection for you. You’ve had a lot of shit to put up with so if I can help you draw a line and help you move on to this better world you are building with Ben by giving you a fancy frock, then, well, it is the least I can do.”
Bonnie looked between Connie and the sketch that she was drawing onto the sheet in her lap. Her eyes were wet, and her makeup had run but she was… happy.
“Thank you.” She hugged her tighter, careful not to jostle her. “You’re the best friend I could ask for.” Her eyes settled onto the page and she clapped a little more, “that’s it! That’s… exactly what I’m thinking of!” Looking bright, she bounced twice on her knees, nearly knocking over her wine. “Oh, Connie! It’s beautiful!” She paused for a second, sighing happily, “Ben is going to want to tear it off.”
Connie laughed as she handed over the sheet to Bonnie, whilst moving the wine glasses to a safer place. “Can you tell him to at least wait until the guests have left before he does? I’m sure some, like Patrick, wouldn’t mind but others, more like Wanda, might.”
The doorbell rang signalling the arrival of their food. Connie bounced up leaving Bonnie with the designs and went to collect it.
“I’ll try, but Ben is discovering his exhibitionist streak at the moment.” Bonnie nibbled at her bottom lip, giggling as she looked at the sheets of paper, falling deeper in love as she looked between the pages. “To be honest, I think managing to bring me off in front of his parents is on his bucket list. At Christmas he had his hand up my skirt over dinner.”
Her smile grew as she watched Connie return with their food. “That looks wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll pay what I owe - I have cash upstairs.” She grinned and held Connie’s latest design up, “this is stunning. Utterly stunning.”
“Thank you, I’ll do a proper one tomorrow when I can get to my desk. And we can sort the money out later, though by the sounds of things I may need to be buying yours as an apology.” Connie lay out the dishes of food. “Because I think your fiancé may have been spending too much time with my man.”
Bonnie could not hide her giggles any longer. “I can’t even begin to imagine the honeymoon. I don’t think we can pick anywhere hot because we won’t make it out of bed. Have to pick the middle of somewhere freezing, tuck ourselves away and snuggle up.” She hummed. “I’ll have to buy Patrick something expensive as a thank you for opening up my man’s wild side.” She popped a bit of cucumber into her mouth. “Plate?” And she passed it over, smiling.
Connie took the plate with a smile, opening up containers and giving each a deep smell. “He’s not the only one who’s opened up, you’ve really taken everything that’s been thrown at you in your stride. Benedict can be intimidating when he’s in the right mood, but love obsessed and desperate… Well, you’ve done alright to hold your own.” She began to spoon food onto her plate. “Any new adventures since…? Not that I’m prying but… yeah I am.”
Bonnie blushed. “I’ve tried to handle everything without freaking out.” She picked up the rice quickly and dumped a pile onto her plate, “love obsessed and desperate Ben is a lot of fun to handle. Some nights I don’t get any sleep because he’s freaking out about… well, about not seeing each other and desperate for me and he calls me to talk. Other nights he comes home and fucks me until I can’t walk.”
She couldn’t help but giggle again. “Pry away, by the way. When we were in South Africa, it was very entertaining. We were camping out with the others and in our own tent… he made naughty moves. You don’t know silence until you’re laid in the savannah with just two pieces of canvas keeping you from waking Tom Hardy.” She gave another giggle and tried a mouthful of sweet and sour. “Plus, you got the message about our aeroplane adventure?”
“No I didn’t.” Connie smirked. “Patrick did. He picked up my phone when it beeped and had a field day for a good five minutes before telling me I had a message. And tell me more about the camping, please tell me Hardy said something inappropriate the next morning. I’m still not convinced about the whole outdoors thing, I’m sure the ones in places like that are actually more like sheeted hotel rooms because the Forest of Dean with a two man is not my idea of fun.”
Bonnie shook her head. “Patrick is an arse. That’s the last time I’m nice to him at dinner parties.” She paused and pulled a cushion under her plate as she took another bite, “so, I managed to get him off on the flight back, with my hand. The stewardess nearly caught us, Ben had his face in my neck and I had to look up at her and tell her he felt sick…”
Bonnie flushed at the memory, so glad she could finally open up to someone about it. “And god, the camping. It was one of those mid-range safari camps, so it was fairly nice but super basic. Canvas structures, one couple a tent. Bed, table.” She shrugged a little, “it wasn’t a mat and a blanket. It was sort of in between five star and Forest of Dean. Very comfortable…”
She chewed at her bottom lip, “Hardy asked if we’d heard the warthogs huffing and grunting last night. Then he asked us whether or not we could work out how the animals had mastered speech.” She started to mimic him mimicking her, “like, ‘Harder, harder…’ snurgh,” she made an attempt at the snorting noise and curled herself up a little more. “It was so embarrassing. But… Ben asked me if I’d been that loud on purpose…”
Connie squirmed slightly in her seat. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” She cheekily gave Bonnie a wink. “And why do I feel sorry for Hardy rather than you two? I’m beginning to regret ever letting this little exhibitionist side of you out of its box. Seriously,” she took a forkful of noodles, “don’t repeat any of this around my man, he will both take credit and get too many ideas and, to be honest, I need him to slow down.”
Bonnie laughed heartily. “I absolutely am, just so you know. My mission in life is to make you simultaneously horny and uncomfortable.” She winked playfully and adjusted her shirt. She thought she could wind up Connie just a little, “What would Patrick do?”
“There is a very small list of things that man would not do.” Connie wiggled in her seat again; her sexual bravado came from Patrick, without him by her side her natural awkwardness tended to slip back to the fore. “He has a habit of turning any situation sexual, so if you do want any more tips, I’m sure he would be happy to help, or watch… Forget I said that.”
Bonnie couldn’t hold in the giggles, biting her lip. “That would be terrible. Hilarious and sexy but terrible.” Another hesitation and she looked at Connie. “Ben would love that; he’d want to mark me as his. Do you think there’s a… way to do that for him in the ceremony? Alongside the rings?” She thought she ought to bring it back to their original conversation.
“Matching tattoos?” Connie joked but then added. “Less permanent…? Then maybe a long sensual day before. Forget pampering in a salon, get him to wash and bathe you, let him kiss you from head to toe.” She felt her body began to slow as her mind began to whir. “Get him to kiss you, slowly, intimately and hard enough to leave glorious love bite on the inside of your thighs.” She gave a little cough. “Yes, do that.”
Bonnie’s heart jumped at the suggestion. “If we both turned up the day before and…” She bounced again, “had the whole day locked up in a hotel suite…” Her eyes glittered. “We don’t even need to have sex, just… be with each other, know that we are secure with each other…” She quickly noted it down. “I really love the idea of tattoos though.”
“He’s not going to have to worry about a tattoo with work, is he?” Connie mumbled, desperately trying to rid her mind of some of her mental images. “And yeah, have that quiet time just the pair of you, because I can guarantee the actual wedding day you will not stop to catch your breath.”
Biting her lip, Bonnie leaned against Connie. “If he wore makeup over it, I think he’d be ok.” She leaned a little more, “but Ben doesn’t like the idea of them. Well, I dont think…” She chewed her bottom lip again, “I would absolutely get one. I believe our marriage is going to be solid, sound and will last.” She smiled a little more. “The honeymoon would be good for catching our breath.” Another pause, “where should we book that? And when? The day after or… with a break?”
“That I don’t think I can advise you on at all.” Connie finished the food on her plate and put it to one side. “Every couple is different; you said not hot, but do you want cold or cool, do you want city or rustic, do you want to do nothing for a fortnight, or at least not get out of bed, or do you want to pepper the sexual escapades with mini excursions? As for timing, completely down to yours, or probably more likely Ben’s timetable. A day or so after the wedding to decompress and take in the moment is nice, but so is not waiting for the whirl of excitement to ebb and just jumping on a plane straight from the party.”
Bonnie nodded thoughtfully, biting her lip just a little as she squirmed and chewed her bottom lip. “Ben will want to be the one in charge of it. I’ll give him a day or two - he’ll be emotional after the wedding and…” She laughed a little. “We’ll plan it closer to the time.”
Though Bonnie knew she wanted cold, wrapped up warm, romantic and gentle. She wanted intimacy, honesty, and privacy. “I’ll have to run it by him. I’m sure he’ll love it, though.” Bonnie smiled and started reeling off ideas. “Norway, Iceland, Canada, somewhere private, somewhere secluded. Log cabins, hot wood fires and privacy.” She knew she pushed it, but she wanted Connie to know, she needed her help on this, “small excursions, dog sledding, running around glaciers, frozen beaches, seeing the northern lights…” Bonnie’s eyes misted over a little, and she bit her lip, wiggling in her chair. “Oh Connie tell me I’m being a fool?”
Connie could not help but grin. “I think, sweetie, you do not need my help at all on this. Listen to yourself, you have just planned it. Walk into a travel agent with those criteria and if they’re worth their money they’ll be able to find just the thing for you.”
“But… but what if I fuck up?” Her eyes were wide and frightened, and she clutched her pillow to her tighter. “Everyone on the planet is staring at the pair of us. They’re waiting for us to walk down the aisle and if Ben isn’t happy about even the smallest thing. Or if it’s ‘not good enough’ for him then it’ll be my fault!” Bonnie swallowed her chicken and rubbed her eyes, “I’m being silly. I just want to keep us both happy. To have a… wedding, *and* a marriage.”
Connie huffed. “Right, that’s it, I’ve had it.” She got up and grabbed both of Bonnie’s hands. “Do you love Ben? Does he love you?”
Bonnie’s hand clenched at Connie’s touch, but she gave a small nod.
“Then it doesn’t bloody matter what the world thinks. He will still walk down the aisle with goddamn mismatched socks and you will still end up crying through the whole ceremony, and Fassy and Tom will still drink too much, and Patrick will still make inappropriate jokes and Ben’s mum will still dead head the flowers minutes before the ceremony and I will find a loose thread and stop you just before you go down the aisle. But, but, it will be perfect because it will be you and him declaring your love to each other. Not to the world, not even to your friends and family, to each other.”
Bonnie felt her eyes prickle with tears but couldn’t help but give a soft giggle, “that’s… that’s all I want.”
Her hands tightened on Connie’s and Bonnie drew away, looking up at her friend with brighter eyes, more determination. “We’re having a marriage, not a wedding. It’s about the two of us. About us being together. I can do this. For him - for us.”
“There you go then.” Connie let go and sat back. “The most I want you to worry about the underwear, or lack of it, that you plan on wearing under this dress and let me do the rest.” She held up her hand. “And before you say a word, you are my friend and I love you and I want to do this. You can’t push people away for wanting to help, not everyone will disappoint you and not everyone will hurt you. Understand?”
“Yes.” Bonnie let the tears pool in her eyes and throat again. “White lace,” she whispered softly. “To match the dress. I won’t push you away but I can’t… I can’t ask you to exhaust yourself for me.” She wrapped her arms around Connie, “I don’t know what to say. Th-thank you.”
“Thank you is enough.” Connie hugged her back. “And I won’t exhaust myself, there’s enough time that things can be arranged bit by bit over time.”
She sat back and pulled one of the folders to her. “Let’s focus on some practicals for a while, get your mind back in focus. Do you have ideas for bridesmaids? Little ones? And are you still planning on having switched Maid of Honour/Best Man, because that was one of the best ideas, ever.”
“Then thank you.” She said again, crossing her legs as she settled down beside Connie, looking at the folder over her shoulder. “I would love to still do it. But it means Ben has to find his Maid of Honour, and it might be weeks before he gets time.” She chewed her bottom lip again. “But I think it would be nice. Especially if…” She swallowed, “otherwise nobody will be able to walk me down the aisle either.”
“Then even if you don’t do the switch I’m sure Patrick would happily walk you down the aisle.” Connie tried to skim over the subject of Bonnie’s father, there was no way that man was going to ruin her friend’s happy moment, regardless of whether his worthless arse was there or not.
Bonnie nodded, though something had taken hold of her throat and constricted it so no words could come out. She knew that the better part of a year without contact with either her or her mother was a good thing - the man was gone and with any luck, he wouldn’t be coming back - but she couldn’t shake the feeling that his spectre would hang over the day.
“I’d love for Patrick to walk me,” she murmured, “he’s good at keeping me calm.” Her voice was high and a little shrill but she looked down at the folder again. “I don’t want children as bridesmaids. I’m not very good at corralling them and… I think outdoors they could be a liability.”
“You have a good point there and I’m guessing you haven’t got any family members you’d be insulting if you don’t pick any particular small children.” Connie smiled. “That makes the dresses easier to design, don’t have to scale down to smaller people.”
“None at all. Only child, and my cousins are currently barren. They’re all too young, or rich,” Bonnie laughed, “the only baby I think we are willing to allow is Christine and Tom’s little one.” She hugged herself then, “unless Ben knocks me up beforehand.”
Connie scowled and pointed to her. “Now none of that kind of talk. You promised you’d wait. I don’t think I can cope with two of you pregnant at the same time. I’ll just stand in the middle with the ice cream and jar of pickles, shall I?”
“Fucking gross.” Bonnie shook her head and winced. “I want six months of being married. That’s all I need to be happy. Then I’m happy to ditch the contraceptive, knock out kids and be the happy housewife…” She sighed softly, “god I’m such a loser. I see him as a sexier, more trustworthy Don Draper. My dashing fifties man…”
Connie gave a little smile. She had made the mistake of criticising Bonnie’s dream once before and had been on her friend’s bad side for a while. “You will be happy. I can see it now, kidlets running around your ankles and you the vision of perfection. But do take that time to enjoy each other.”
Bonnie gave a little sigh and wiggled into the cushion, imagining a little boy curled up with her, reading stories to one another in the firelight. “I want to enjoy him, I truly do, but I think the only way I’ll ever get him home for an extended period is by having a baby. He knows I’m capable on my own. Maybe I’ve been too independent.”
Connie suppressed her harsh inner critic. “Please don’t make that mistake. You’re going to have to sort your issues with each other first before you bring a child into the picture. Independence does not mean the same as leaving you alone, making you feel alone, I mean. Is that how you feel? Does he ‘forget’ about you when he’s not here?”
“A little?” Bonnie shrugged, “it’s like I’ve said before. Work comes first with Ben, and I quietly follow along because I can’t force him to change. He forgets that he has someone to talk to - he’s gone it alone so long, I mean… When I was in Australia… I saw how lonely he got, too, and we have made it work to an extent, but… he’s used to not asking for things, and…” Bonnie laughed, “I give and give but only when someone tells me to. I think I just miss having someone to turn to, to ask an opinion and discuss the paper with in the mornings, or to cuddle up to at night. Time zones make it hard, when I’m holding down a house and a nine-to-five and his hours are…” She shuddered, “abhorrent.”
“But you knew this was going to be the case when you got into the relationship.” Connie tried to be diplomatic. “Ben is Ben and his career always has come first, he’s worked hard to get to where he is and you’re the one who has to fit into that.” She hmmed for a couple of seconds. “Relationships are compromises, and you’re making them all at the moment, Ben needs to know that he can’t put himself first all the time anymore.”
“I think he forgets, sometimes, that he doesn’t have to do it alone anymore. Because… he keeps it from me and I feel like I can’t do anything…” She sighed. “I have fit in in as much as is physically possible. I am a partner, lover and friend when he’s here but he doesn’t… allow me to do that when he goes. And I fear he doesn’t know how.”
“He becomes absorbed in the roles he’s playing.” Connie knew it wasn’t what Bonnie wanted to hear. “And the physical reminder of you is not present, his mind slips further into the work. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“And then I get shunted aside. It’s not something which I like but it’s something I understand. It makes sense - if I’m not there then he can’t keep thinking about me or he’ll lose focus but…” She inclined her head. “I can’t be there all the time. I have work myself. What should I do? Even if it’s just advice, Connie?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Connie shook her head. “Patrick and I got over a similar hump by realising that we were better people when we let the other help us. I was there for him for his work like no one else in his past had been, and he supported me when he found out… when he understood how my past affected my present and I needed my own type of support. Ben needs to know you are there even when you’re not next to him; without the need for constant reminders.”
Bonnie nodded, understanding the idea completely. It made perfect sense but the question was, how was she to execute such a plan?
“He does. And I need to know he’ll be there for me, too.” It came out a little sharper than intended. “It’s a case of giving him something, isn’t it? Or explaining to him, or…” Bonnie sighed. “He needs something physical to remind him that I’m there, doesn’t he? Otherwise he’ll remain oblivious.”
Conne gave a little scoff, “The wedding ring would be the most obvious answer to that question. But is this something that is going to be okay to be left between you until then, or do you want to sort it out before then?”
“I’d quite like to sort it out sooner rather than later.” She sighed, “if it goes on too long then it’s going to drive me mental. I’ve thought about a tattoo for myself - but he wouldn’t want that, I don’t think. I don’t know what else I could give him that’s not juvenile or ridiculous…”
“I don’t know what the answer is.” Connie moved to sit next to Bonnie and put her arm around her. “If it’s not something you can hold and tangibly give him. You need him to be certain that your hearts are one and if one of you grieves then the other does too.”
Bonnie nodded and chewed at her bottom lip. “I am certain. I just need to make sure that he is.” She gently leaned against Connie, “Can I give him a teddy bear or something? Or like… a tamagotchi?”
Another sigh and she curled up a little more, “would you speak to him for me? If it wouldn’t be too much of an issue?”
“Me? I mean I can try but… Are you sure you want me to?” Connie rested her head on Bonnie’s. “What I’m trying to say is are you sure you’re over the whole history thing with us?”
Bonnie nodded. “I’ve let it go. I love Ben and I wouldn’t change him or you for the world. It was a one-time thing and I trust in both of you that it’s over and done with.” She shrugged, “I’m marrying him. I love him.”
Ben couldn’t help but sigh. Nine hour flights would likely be the death of him. His shoulders ached from carrying his carry-on and his legs felt cramped from the minimum room he had had to manoeuvre. He wanted to get into Bonnie’s car, get home, curl up on the sofa and have dinner. Then cuddle her for a good few hours before he carried her to bed, they cuddled more, and in the morning he would have the strength and wherewithal to fuck her into the mattress.
He groaned a little at the thought and shoved his hand into his pocket. The thought of slipping into her had been the thing keeping him going for months, photos of her laid in bed, with a bird’s nest bun and goofy smile sent specifically for him dragging out more of a response than any love scene he had done in the past weeks. He checked his phone - still no message from Bonnie, though he knew she was organised enough to know his flight times and be waiting for him - and noted a call from Connie. As he dialled, he saw the familiar car parked up at the drop off and he walked straight over, waving just a little.
“Connie!” He half called, half spoke into the phone, “fancy seeing you here!”
Connie waved back and hung up the phone before the conversation even started. Climbing out she held out her arms to give him a big hug. “Sorry sweetie, I’m here more out of design than chance, I’m afraid. You have me rather than Bonnie.” She moved around the car and popped open the boot, indicating for Ben to hand over his bags. “I offered to drive her over and take you both back but she wasn’t up for leaving bed just yet. And I am not willing to drag her out of bed with force, just yet. It’s still too soon.”
“Ah no, it’s fine. Bless her,” Ben frowned a little, “It would have been nice to have her come and meet me, though. Get me to her sooner, and that.”
He handed over the bags and helped Connie to settle everything away. “You should push her a bit; I think she needs a little more to get going sometimes.” With a half smile, and a little disappointed that his fiancée was hiding away from him, he settled into the car. God, he was ready to be looked after.
Connie pondered his words for a moment but let them go, he was obviously still in a different time zone. She climbed in and they pulled away.
“Did you want me to take you to a supermarket or something before we get back to yours? Patrick’s been taking over care packages each night for Bonnie,” Connie began to explain, her prattling ramble filled the quiet car, “but I’m guessing now you’re back you’ll obviously want to take over. Although he’s probably made enough for four just in case you were still a little jetlagged. He was going to do the run to pick you up himself but got called to a work thing. I didn’t really want to leave Bonnie alone but she’d finally fallen asleep, so felt it was safe enough.”
“Has she been having funny nights again?” Ben blinked quietly, looking at the brake lights in the cars in front of them. “is she really having that much trouble?” He frowned a bit more. “Although that’s really nice of Patrick. We’ll have to have you over this week when I’m a little more functional.” He stretched his neck, “Bonnie would love the company as well I’m sure.”
“Ben? Funny nights? Company?” Connie chanced to look at him as he adjusted himself to get more comfortable in the chair. She would have let his first comments pass as he adjusted back to ‘reality’ but to be this utterly clueless over Bonnie’s feelings was unacceptable in her book. “You do know what your fiancée is going through, don’t you? You know her father just died? You know she’s having a serious crisis of emotion and identity? Please tell me you are not this utterly fucking clueless really and you’re winding me up, aren’t you Benedict?”
Ben turned and looked at the side of Connie’s head. She didn’t seem to be holding in a laugh, and she didn’t seem to be taking the piss out of him. He opened his mouth and closed it twice, then looked back out of the windscreen, blinking.
“Dead?” He murmured, suddenly feeling his stomach turn over and his pulse begin to race. “He died? Wh-when?”
Connie resisted the urge to slam on the breaks of the car. “You don’t know? You seriously didn’t know? Fuck.” Connie felt herself burn up, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Four days ago. She got the call from her mother, she said she told you. Hang on, if you’re not back for her, why are you here?”
“I’ve not heard from her in four days. We didn’t have a Skype call booked, I’ve been so busy I’ve not had time to put one in.” His heart was racing, “Jesus, fuck, I’m back because we’ve got a six day break in filming! I was going to do a four day audio book stint in town, fuck,” he shook his head. “Shit. She’s alright, though?”
“No! No she’s not. Have you not been listening to what I’ve been saying?” Connie felt herself getting angrier with Ben. “I don’t want to dictate your career but you’re going to have to cancel anything while you’re here. She needs you Ben. She has not moved, she has not really spoken and she has not cried. She’s in shock and she needs you.”
“Shit… fuck, shes… she’s really not ok?” His eyes were glassy with worry, and he looked at Connie, frown deepening on his face. “She’s…” Ben felt his hands shake a little. “I can’t… it’s too late to…” He looked as though he was going to explode with panic and worry. “I need to call Ellen, get her to cancel everything. I need… I don’t know what to do!” He shouted suddenly, “Connie, why didn’t anyone say anything?”
“Because we thought you already knew.” Connie defended. “We didn’t have time to process it ourselves before she withdrew completely. It was only because she missed work without a call that I found out, otherwise she’d still be alone.” Connie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Ben but you and Bonnie need to work on your communication, even before this you two were never the most talkative when it came to important stuff.”
Ben paled and stared at Connie, chewing his bottom lip. “So she… she just cut off from everyone? She’s never done this before…” He rubbed his eye. “We.. we need to talk more. But she’s never said she wanted to…” His expression softened and then his eyes darkened. “Is she… what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“She shouldn’t have to say she wants to talk, it should happen naturally.” Connie fought the urge to give him a clip around the ear for the small size of the car would not make it easy. “I love you Ben but you are a selfish idiot sometimes. All it takes is a ‘how was your day love?’ And for you to then *listen* to what she says. You don’t. At best you use the phrase as a platitude while you catch your breath waiting for your next turn to speak. You think that your relationship revolves around you, you think the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t. It really doesn’t.”
Ben felt floored. He’d never been spoken to in such a way, and to hear it from one of his closest friends really stung.
“What?” He managed out eventually. “I… I don’t think the world revolves around me! I’m busy. I have a lot of shit to do and I can’t keep everything wrapped up inside…” He looked at Connie. “Bonnie listens to me and she’s never complained, and she’s never once put on me.”
“I’m sorry, Ben.” Connie truly felt remorse for her harsh words. “Bonnie is a quiet and sensitive soul. Her whole life she’s been taught, through no fault of her own, to keep her problems hidden, to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself. She doesn’t put on you because she doesn’t want to burden you. She needs to, but she can’t. I can’t even begin to imagine what she is thinking at this precise moment; the bastard who made her into the person she is, she who thinks that she is small, unimportant and the back of her own queue of priorities, he is dead. You need to show her that you are not in anyway like him. Even the smallest dismissal of her feelings could dredge some long forgotten thought.”
Ben opened his mouth again, desperate to defend himself from a slight which hadn’t come. Connie was right - his head had been so far up his arse that he had lost sight of the woman he loved, and the problems she had fought against to become the woman he had fallen in love with.
“I just… I just assumed she was over it.” He murmured, “She had therapy and… she has her own life now. With me… I can’t… I can’t let her think I am like that. I’m not like that. Shit, fuck, she matters to me!” Ben banged his hand hard on the door. “Fuck, I… how do I go in there? What do I do?”
“Some wounds are so deep that not even therapy will wipe them away completely. She’ll have just learned to bury those issues even deeper.” Connie thought hard. “As for now? Just go in and be there. Don’t say anything about your job, your flight, not even your bloody lunch. Hold her and kiss her but let her tell you what she needs. It’s okay to ask her if she’s not forthcoming and if she starts deflect and to ask you about you, you turn it straight back around.”
Ben nodded silently, thinking hard about the woman he had fallen in love with and all of the layers that he still hadn’t uncovered. His heart hit into his chest like a jackhammer and he felt the nerves surface more as Connie pulled into the driveway. He looked to Connie and felt his heart clench. “I’ve got to be brave for her haven’t I? Make her feel safe?” He swallowed again.
“Yes. Be her knight in shining armour, be the man who sweeps her off her feet, fall in love with her again.” Connie looked up at the windows with the curtains drawn. “Her dragon is dead but she’s still stuck in the cave… Oh listen to me, I should have gone and worked for Mills & Boon.”
“I dare you to shout ‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” Ben chuckled, “see where it gets you.” He sighed, looking up at the windows too. “Can I ask you in for a cup of tea? If she knows someone’s there it might get her a little out of bed? Even if it’s just to say hello. Then I’ll take her back to bed and look after her properly…”
“If you’re sure? I don’t want to impose on your time.” Connie looked up again. “She’s probably sick of me, I keep making her brush her teeth and eat and other such boring things.” She looked to where Ben sat anxiously. She knew he would need all the help he could get, he was not going to magically become the man Bonnie needed in one short trip from Heathrow. “Okay, but I won’t stay long.”
“I’d really appreciate it. I know she’s very hesitant to take from people but she might find it easier with both of us there.” He couldn’t stop his leg shaking or his arms trembling. “God I don’t want to hurt her. But she’s so fragile… what if I say something wrong…” He was desperate to try to make things better. He was so terrified he’d hurt her more… he looked to Connie again. “I’ll get my bags.” He climbed out carefully. “Can you unlock the door?”
“Of course.” Connie left him with her car keys and took his house keys off him. She opened the door as quickly and as quietly as she could.
“Bonnie?” She called out softly, almost guaranteeing that her friend hadn’t moved since she had last been around. “Bonnie, hope you’re decent, I have a surprise for you.”
Bonnie heard Connie’s voice, but didn’t particularly have the energy to move. Her head was still swimming with a million thoughts and with every time she shifted, a fresh wave of nausea rolled over her, from head to toe a clenching rush of cramps and discomfort. She supposed she ought to answer her, though.
“I’m in bed. Still.” Another wave of guilt hit her. This was her friend; she should have tried harder to be perkier in front of her. Carefully, she sat up and felt the tears come again. “I’m… I’m coming.” She took a step or two, then returned to the bed for her bear. Ben had bought it for her at Christmas, and she refused to part from it now.
Connie moved further into the house, the remnants of the past few days’ dinners and things laid about. She gathered a much as she could quickly and took them to the kitchen before Ben appeared. She headed towards the bedroom with a smile and hoped that Bonnie was not going to withdraw or run a mile.
“Hey, you’re looking a bit better.” Connie chanced at Bonnie as she heard Ben coming through the door behind her.
“I threw up breakfast.” She said softly. “I look like shit, Connie, no need to lie to make me feel better.” She chuckled mirthlessly and looked up at the sound of Ben coming up the stairs. Her eyes went wide and she turned from Connie to Ben as he stood at the top of the stairs and felt herself tremble as he stepped closer. She tried to hold in her desperate need for affection as her eyes closed and she dropped the blanket in shock. “Ben!?”
“Hello love.” He took three steps forward and wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. He could feel her trembling against his body and didn’t dare let go of her. She felt so small in his arms, so slim and breakable and he heard a little keening sob as her arms came around him, slow and gentle. She seemed scared to touch him, so he held her tighter. Over her head, he looked to Connie. “What do I do?” he whispered.
“Just hold her.” Connie mouthed back, she inched backwards trying to give them space. In a louder voice she managed “I’m just going to do the washing up, why don’t you two find somewhere comfortable to sit and chat?” Her voice hinted at Ben.
“The library.” Bonnie murmured against Ben’s chest, and he nodded gently, kissing her head. She crouched, still holding fast to his hand, and picked up her blanket, then let him lead her through to the library, on shaky legs. He settled her gently onto the sofa, then, switching the small lamp on, gently settled beside her. His fingers slipped around her as she crawled into his lap and latched on like a koala bear.
Ben’s heart utterly broke for her, and he clung on tightly as he felt her shudder in his arms. “I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere. Want to talk?”
Connie had loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the surfaces as quickly as she could before she went back and leaned against the wall outside of the library, unashamedly listening to their conversation. She had to fight every urge in her body to go in and wrap them both in a hug too instead let them have their moment. She peeked around and managed to catch Ben’s eye, giving him a small smile and letting him know that she was there, as and when he needed her.
Ben held her closer, gently rocking Bonnie as she cried. “I’m here, love. I’m here.” She shuddered and buried herself in, weeping openly again.
“I feel like… I feel like I should feel… bad.” She paused and held him tighter. “But I don’t.”
“What?” Ben couldn’t fathom it. “You don’t feel bad? He was your father…”
With two steaming mugs of tea Connie padded quietly into the library and placed them down in front of the pair. She tried not to listen too closely as she headed back out and grabbed her mobile, letting Patrick know that it was four for dinner, at Ben and Bonnie’s.
“No!” Bonnie’s tears flooded her cheeks, “he was a bastard, Ben. He beat me and he beat my mother and…” She gave a sniffly sob, “I’m fucking glad he’s dead.”
Ben Didn’t quite know what to say. He hated him - more than life itself, he hated the bastard that had hurt Bonnie, but he couldn’t fathom a hatred for someone’s father. He simply hugged her closer, rocking her gently as she cried and Connie set down the cups of tea.
“Thank you, Connie,” Ben breathed, kissing the top of Bonnie’s head. “We’ll have them for dinner, OK, Bon?” The smaller woman nodded against his chest and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m not leaving you, love. I’m going to be right beside you. I’m not leaving you.”
Connie gave a small smile. “Don’t worry about anything. You two sit here, chat if you need to. Patrick will bring dinner over, and we’ll just leave you be as much as you want us to.”
“I should shower if we have company.” Bonnie immediately blushed, feeling embarrassed at how messy she was in front of Ben. “A-and…” She glanced down at her legs, biting her lip as she realised the scratch marks that ran deep from her anxiety tic were still fresh and a little bloody. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”
“Let me run you a bath Bonnie.” Connie offered, placing her hand gently on Bonnie’s shoulder. “You don’t have even put anything more than your PJs on; we’re not company, Patrick and I are your family and we will not judge. But having a wash might make you feel better.” She gave Bonnie a little kiss to the top of her head before squeezing Ben’s shoulder. “I’ll be back in a bit but I’m sure Bonnie would appreciate you washing her back.”
“Please don’t think any less of me for what you see.” Bonnie murmured into Ben’s side. “I’ve scratched myself to buggery.”
“Oh, my love,” Ben whispered, “you’re mid trauma. Please don’t…” He kissed her head gently. “Please don’t worry. I fucking love you, love. I just want to help you through.” He held her closer, his chest tight and eyes screwed shut against the world. “I love you. I fucking adore you. And I’m sorry I don’t say it more. I don’t say it enough.” He pressed a kiss gently to her cheek. “Trust that I’ll look after you.”
Bonnie nodded and Ben helped her hesitantly to her feet. He moved with her, gently crowding her as they moved toward the bathroom and Connie slipped out, the steaming bath smelling inviting and warm. Bonnie felt the tears sting at her eyes again and she turned to Ben, slowly stripping off her top, then hesitating as she reached to her waist.
“What is it?” Ben murmured, “the scratches?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. He nodded back, and gently knelt before her. “Trust me.” He repeated and slowly pulled her pj’s down.
Patrick kicked the door close with the heel of his foot. “Any progress?”
“She’s having a bath, which is an improvement.” Connie took the tray of lasagne from Patrick’s hands and led him through to the kitchen. “I’m worried though.”
Patrick placed the salad bowl down next to the tray before moving to try and work out the unfamiliar oven. “More scratches?”
“Yes, but more than that.” Connie peeled off the foil from the tops of the dishes. “I don’t think Ben is ready, I don’t know if he can be… if he can be what Bonnie needs.”
Patrick looked up from where he was bent in front of the oven. “Need me to talk to him?”
“You’re ok, my love.” He murmured, kissing her forehead as he took the warm flannel and gently pressed it along her thigh. She whimpered softly, and Ben caught the tears as they dripped from her eyes. “I know it hurts, and I know you didn’t mean to do it.” The water stained a little as he knocked one of the deeper gouges with his thumb. “We’ll wrap these up with plasters when you get out, ok?” She nodded, simply, and like a child, reached for another hug.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I know you had plans for work. This is so inconvenient.”
“Fuck, no, no Bonnie.” He held her to him, “not at all. You’re my priority. Now and always.” He rocked her gently, aware that she was stinging sharply and in considerable emotional pain. “We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”
“I need that…” Bonnie whispered. “I need you to be here. For me.” Her voice was soft as the sound of the front door closing echoed through their embrace. “Is that Patrick?” She looked down at her legs then back up at him. “Could you send Connie up? I… I don’t want you to see me getting out.” Bonnie knew it was daft but she was terrified of Ben thinking less of her for what she had done to herself.
“Of course, love.” He smiled. “She’ll be better at braiding wet hair than me.”
Connie rested her head heavily against Patrick’s chest, as the lasagne bubbled away in the oven, and gave a little choked sigh.
“I know you feel responsible for everyone and everything but Ben’s here now, you can take the night off.” His fingers curled around her back stroking her spine gently.
“But I need her to know she’s not alone-”
“I’m sure she knows it but there is only so much-” Patrick was interrupted from saying more as heavy footsteps from the stairs made both turn to see Ben coming back down.
“Hello,” Ben smiled quietly, gently clapping Patrick on the shoulder. “Bon has asked for womanly assistance, if possible…” He looked to Connie. “Is that alright?” He bit his lip and looked at Patrick, “sorry, man. Everything’s a mess.”
“I’ll head up and help her out.” Connie smiled gently at both before disappearing the way Ben had come.
“How’s she doing?” Patrick asked, not knowing how to broach the subject. Connie wanted him to find out if Ben was going to cope but even he could see from here that being thrown into this situation with very little warning was a shock to him. “And are you okay? It was a shock for us, hate to think how you’re feeling right now.”
“I’m more worried about her to be honest,” Ben chewed at his lip, “why didn’t anyone tell me I’ve been a massive cunt for the past year and a half?” He hugged himself a little. “I don’t understand how she’s feeling but I desperately want to. I can’t be insensitive though. She needs time.”
“Massive cunt who’s in love.” Patrick folded his arms and leant back against the kitchen counter. “And for some bizarre reason she loves you back, which means she’s put up with you being a twonk. But now is the time that has to change. As to how she’s feeling, she’s the only one that can answer that.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to contemplate it himself before he even began to explain it to Ben. “Put it this way, if one of our parents died, we’d be heartbroken, we’d miss them, we’d grieve and we’d try to honour them, somehow… Bonnie doesn’t want any of that. She wanted him out of her life and to some extent he was, but now he’s gone forever; now there will be no redemption, no forgiveness, nothing. Who knows what she’s thinking.”
“I just…” Ben shrugged, “it’s impossible to contemplate why, unless I ask her to dredge shit up and that’s…” He shook his head. “I can’t ask her those things. I don’t want to hurt her.”
He looked at Patrick, then into the doorway. The girls were still upstairs, he could hear their footfalls through the ceiling, and he knew he could say this now, to his friend. “I hate that I’ve hurt her. But I’ve never had to balance anything like this before. I want to be with her forever, Patrick. I have to learn…” He swallowed. “How did you manage with Connie?”
“Nobody manages Connie. They get managed by Connie.” Patrick gave a laugh, before noting Ben’s pale face. “We… I actually don’t know… mostly a lot of letting things slide. Neither of us have any giant skeletons… well not really that big, but Bonnie doesn’t so much have a skeleton, more like a damn great elephant.” The oven beeped beside him. Reaching to turn the temperature down he added. “Is that making any sense?”
“It’s a lot more damage than I anticipated taking on when I fell in love,” he murmured softly. “Not that I regret it - I adore her with my whole heart.” He smiled as he heard the girls moving toward the stairs. “I just wish I knew what to do. I just feel like… I just don’t know what to do.”
“Just be there. She’s not had that and that’s what she needs.” Patrick smiled as he watched the girls come into view. “Hold her and don’t let her go.” He turned around and grabbed the oven gloves. “However first job is to find plates and cutlery and to stop being a stingy bastard and open some of that nice wine I know you keep around here.”
“There’s a bottle of white in the fridge, and a bottle of red in the rack,” Bonnie said as she padded through the door, holding Connie’s hand tightly. “Thank you for dinner, Patrick.” She rocked forward to put her arms around him and then hesitated, pulling back to move toward Ben. Her arm curled around him and she held onto his shirt, biting her lip as she cuddled into him a little. “Thank you two for putting me into the bath. I feel a little better now.”
“Anytime.” Connie gave her friend a gentle touch to the shoulder before helping Patrick begin to dish up the dinner. “See all you needed was a wash, a good meal and a cuddle.”
“So now Ben’s back you won’t need us for a while, I know my cuddles aren’t up to his.” Patrick said over his shoulder, with a cheeky smile. “Maybe he can cook for us instead?”
“Oh god,” Bonnie giggled in spite of herself, “he’d never leave the kitchen! This man can’t follow a recipe for the life of him.”
“She’s right, you know.” Ben rubbed her shoulder gently. “I’m chicken a-la ping, but I’ll make sure we don’t go hungry.” He kissed Bonnie’s temple as she turned into his side, “at worst, we can work together. I won’t make you cook, love.” He hugged her tighter and Bonnie sighed softly, feeling safe and secure in Ben’s arms. He bit his lip, looking over at Connie and Patrick as he smiled at them. He was so worried for his woman, and needed his friends’ reassurance that he wasn’t way off base with his actions.
Connie and Patrick shared a smile before she gave Ben a small thumbs up and Patrick gave him a wink.
“Right, let’s eat before this gets cold.” Patrick picked up two plates and passed them to the couple on the other side of the kitchen.
Ben grinned and quietly took both of the plates to bring them to the kitchen island. Pulling out the stool for Bonnie and settling beside her he smiled at Connie and Patrick and flicked the spotlights on so they could see what they were eating.
“This is gorgeous, Patrick.” Bonnie said softly, “really, really lovely.” She took another half bite and watched them all as they dug in. She felt as though she owed them all an explanation, an apology and a justification, but didn’t want to put them off of their food.
“Thanks.” Patrick smiled. “There’s salad here too. Got to make sure you get your five a day too.”
Connie cut into her own dinner and gave a little smile towards Bonnie. She’d gotten so used to watching her friend to make sure she was actually eating that she was suddenly aware of the men watching Bonnie too. All anxious for what she might do.
Bonnie felt their eyes on her and swallowed hesitantly as she carried on her food. They were all expectant, waiting for something, for her to blow up or break down, or… she closed her eyes and let it out.
“When I was nine… I watched my dad pick my mum up by the hair and throw her against the fireplace. There was a crack in one of the slate tiles that I used to watch when the fire was on - it was electric,” she anticipated Ben cutting her off. “I used to watch it glitter and the shadows left and right on it. When I was fourteen, I was sat by the fire before school, trying to keep warm because it was January and my dad came up behind me and smashed my head forward into the tile next to it. He laughed. I didn’t go to school.” Bonnie wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but her tone was flat, her voice matter of fact. It needed to be said. “When I turned fifteen and he backhanded mum across the face, he broke her jaw and told me she was a cunt who deserved her mouth to be wired shut. He made me take her to A and E and she made him leave. She changed the locks and called the police. He left us alone for six months. Then we started getting phone calls. Verbal abuse. Shit through our letterbox. I was followed home from school.” She swallowed. “He smashed our front windows with a baseball bat and told us he would find us. I had never been more scared in my life than I was in that moment.” Bonnie closed her eyes and cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry. I…” She shook her head. “I’m just…” She flinched a little as Patrick reached for his glass of wine. “We had bags packed, and we threw them into the car and ran. Eventually mum had everything put in storage, sold the house. It was in her name. We lived with my mum’s mum until I’d finished my A-Levels. She moved back to London and I went to uni. Both of us spent nights on the phone, saying that we knew someone was watching us. It never ended. It never went away.” She stopped for breath. “When she called, told me he was dead… that first night, I slept like a baby. I was alone and I slept like a baby. I felt safe. He couldn’t have been watching me - or mum - anymore.” Bonnie looked to Ben, then at Connie and Patrick. “The man that contributed half of my DNA is dead. And I feel safe because of it. He made me run for my life and threatened me and my mother for twenty-odd years… and now my father is dead, I feel safe. It’s so fucked up, it’s all I can think about. I feel sick, that I could want to celebrate the death of a human being, but the fucker is dead.”
No one moved for a good minute or so. Connie just stared at Bonnie open mouthed, unsure what she was expected to say or do. Beside her Patrick gripped the stem of his glass and she was sure if he held it any tighter it would break.
“I… I don’t…” Connie blustered. “You never said it was that bad, oh, Bonnie, I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t think there is much more to say,” Bonnie tried to be nonchalant. “It… explains things? I suppose. Any weird quirks you’ve noticed; they’re results of things. Ben couldn’t touch my throat for six months.”
“You never said.” Ben whispered. “You told me why but… the specifics-”
“Does it change things?” Bonnie looked back at him. “I’m still me.” With a slow breath, she looked around at the group, pleading with them not to think less of her. “Please, don’t pity me. Tell me honestly…” Her fingers tightened on Ben’s hand a little. “Say something.”
“We would never pity you and this doesn’t change anything.” Connie assured her. “It explains things but doesn’t change things.”
“Is there anything you want to know?” Bonnie murmured softly, “I don’t think I have anything to hide.” She bowed her head as Ben reached for her and pulled her closer.
“My strong girl.” He whispered. “My strong woman. I love you so much.”
Bonnie smiled and leaned into him more, rubbing his hand as he squeezed her shoulder gently, needing the comfort from her chosen family. “Patrick?” She looked at her friend. She smiled at him, waiting for his response. “Say… say something?”
“I’m just angry, I can’t… I can’t believe anyone would… You are the sweetest, kindest, most-” Patrick gave a small smile to Connie, “-second most amazing person on this planet… How? I’m with you all the way on this one kiddo, he can fucking rot in hell.”
Bonnie blinked at Patrick, feeling fresh tears spring up in her throat. She saw the man as a best friend and big brother, and to have him on her side with this, when she had thrown such a shock into his path - into all of their paths - was overwhelming. She moved a little from Ben’s lap - she had been attached to him all night, and had flinched when Patrick had made sudden movements - and gently wrapped her arms around him.
“Thank you.” She hesitated. “I don’t say thank you to the three of you enough. And then I pull away from you all and panic you and it’s mean of me. But thank you for being here and looking after me. For loving me so unconditionally when I have such ridiculous scars.” She took her place back at the table and gently sipped her wine. “I want you all to know I’ll be seeing my old therapist about it. I would love for you to come, Ben, as support…” She felt she could broach it now.
“You get the help you need Bonnie.” Connie nodded. Then as if talking to Ben she added. “I’m sure Ben sees that it is for the best. He sees that being by your side is the best place he can be right now, supporting you and giving you all his time and attention.”
“Absolutely,” Ben murmured, kissing her cheek gently, “there’s nowhere on earth I’d rather be right now than supporting you, looking after you and helping you heal. If you need therapy for that then I’ll be there. Of you need to punch a bag, I’ll be there.” He smiled. “Will it be an extended period or-?”
“I hope it’ll be just a few sessions,” Bonnie murmured, “just to help me understand what’s going on in my head and how to move forward with everything,” she smiled at Ben. “I know a lot of the things already, but there’s an element of guilt over my feelings that I need to work through.” She bowed her head, “and now you know more… I’d quite like you to be able to ask the questions that you want to. You must be in more shock…”
“Not more,” Ben replied simply. “You are the one under so much stress and panic, and I want to make it all go away.” He stopped and stroked her arm lightly. “I love you, baby.”
Bonnie gave a soft sniffle and reached for him, tucking herself into him as he lightly kissed her forehead. With a little smile she focussed on the plate in front of her, but didn’t make any more to eat further.
Connie carefully picked up hers and Patrick’s plates and carried them to the sink.
“I was eating-” Patrick’s voice cut out as he saw Connie’s expression. “So yeah, we’re done eating.”
Connie laid her hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’ll leave the rest of it, it’ll last a couple of days in the fridge.”
“That’s good. I think the next few days are going to be…” Ben curled his arm around Bonnie a little tighter. “Rough.” He spoke softly.
He raised an eyebrow to Connie and gently stroked Bonnie’s shoulder. He tilted his head and looked at Patrick too. He wanted to ask their advice, to see what else he could do without babying her or making her feel incapable. Bonnie tilted her head against his chest and he felt the heat of her skin against his neck.
“If you’re still hungry, Patrick…” He gestured to the cupboards, “please feel free to dig through.”
“There’s plenty of food at home, I think that was Connie’s not subtle way of telling me it’s time to leave.” Patrick chuckled as he picked a cherry tomato out of the bowl of salad.
Connie rolled her eyes as she turned back to Ben and Bonnie. “We’re not running out on you, honest. I just think you two might need a little more time to yourselves. Even if it’s just sitting in bed cuddling.”
Bonnie nodded, mutely, and moved to give the pair of them a hug. “Thank you.” She breathed, “for looking after me and helping me stay mostly above water. I owe you a bottle of nice wine,” she smiled at them both, then looked back at Ben. “I can’t wait for a cuddle with my man. It’s been far too long.”
“Then we will definitely get out of your hair.” Connie gave Patrick’s arm a tug as he started to dive into the salad bowl again for a piece of red pepper. “We’re on the end of the phone, for anything and everything.”
“Yeah, always there, that’s us.” Patrick gave Ben a slap to the shoulder and Bonnie a last kiss on the cheek before heading to the door.
Connie watched him go with a last hug to the couple herself. “Take care, both of you, of each other. Promise?”
“And you take care of him,” Bonnie mumbled, pressing the salad bowl into Connie’s hands, sure that Patrick was pissed off about something, but not so sure what it was. She worried about how much of a burden she had been, whether she had asked too much of the couple by their looking after her.
“We’ll speak to you later in the week.” Ben called as Connie left, holding the salad bowl, before he closed the front door and locked up for the night. He rocked on his heels for a minute, unsure of what to say to Bonnie as they were alone for the first time in what felt like months. She stood in the doorway and stared at him, rocking in the same way that he did until her resolve crumbled and she sprinted at him, flinging herself into his arms.
Connie spun around and gave Patrick a disapproving look. “That’s it?”
Patrick gave a shrug. “What more do you want me to say?”
“I… I actually don’t know.” She felt a little confused. “I was expecting some sort of completely inappropriate remark and here you are not disappointing. Though I did expect worse.”
“Why do we even need a tree anyway?” He picked up the box of baubles in his hand and turned them over, giving them a little shake as he did. She wasn’t too sure what he expected them to do, other than tinkle and break.
She snatched the box from his hands. “Because it’s nice, Mr Scrooge.”
Patrick scrunched up his face and ticked things off on his fingers. “We’re at family Christmas day and Boxing day, we’re away at New Year. We’re both working right through and Ollie is only down for one weekend.” Patrick picked up another box and turned his nose up. “I’m not Scrooge. I’m practical; what goes up, must come down.”
“When was the last time you put a tree up?” Connie began to inspect some of the hand painted figures.
Patrick put the box down and wandered around the sparkling display, his fingers dragging absentmindedly over the ornaments. “Four years…”
Connie put the small Santa ornament she was holding down. “I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t be, it’s the past.” He gave another shrug. “But I don’t see the point of all this…” He let a piece of tinsel run through his fingers.
Connie realised that the holiday traditions that she loved, the ones that she had longed to recreate with Patrick, were never going to happen. This evening out was proving to be more frustrating rather than enjoyable. He’d not been moved by viewing the twinkling lights around the city, he’d turned his nose up at the ‘overpriced, overly minted hot chocolate’ in the craft market and now he was refusing a tree. His cynicism was endearing when it was directed towards practical things, yet when just a little touch of magic was needed, he would try the patience of even the most enthusiastic elf.
“What if…” Connie bit her lip as she moved around the display to stand next to Patrick. “What if I got us a tree and decorated it?”
“If you want.” His disinterested shrug was now just grating.
“What if I decorated it, wearing nothing but a couple of strands of this?” Connie wrapped a string of tinsel around her neck.
“Really?” Patrick raised his eyebrows and his tone was nothing but sarcasm. “That will elicit a different response, it won’t make me Christmassy.”
Connie sighed and undid the glitter string. “You’re right.”
“Connie, we’re two grown adult, we don’t need this… silly tat and fake frivolity.” Patrick waved his arm around.
Connie gave a little frown. “But… it’s Christmas.”
-----
Bonnie: Are you and Patrick free tonight? Been invited to a church concert by old friends, would love you to come with me? X
Connie: Always free for you and I love a good carol concert! Though can’t say the same for Patrick, he’s more Grinch than Elf.
Bonnie: He can come anyway. Probably be nice for him to get away from Christmassy shtick. This is v traditional. Lots of O holy night, and Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Very talented group!
Connie: Then consider us there, maybe not with bells on, but hopefully with a bit more Christmas cheer than he’s shown so far. I’ll tell him he will disappoint you if he doesn’t at least smile.
Bonnie: Tell him he’s a meanie. I won’t be wearing anything Christmassy (will not risk the humiliation!) So he’s no fear of having to wear bells. Or fur. Or… anything. It does mean you’ll have to meet old friends of mine, though. Yay xmas cheer.
-----
“Don’t tell my mother.”
Connie gave a snort. “I won’t but surely she must have realised by now?”
“I don’t think so.” Patrick unfolded himself from Connie’s car. “I make sure I never visit on a Sunday and I can just about bluster through weddings, christenings and funerals.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t be that bothered, your mother is lovely.”
“Yeah…” Patrick held out his arm for Connie. “I’m pretty sure I would have more chance of surviving her wrath if I’d converted to Judaism than if I told her I’d lapsed.”
“Well this is Church of England, nowhere near the same pressure, shall we just enjoy the evening?” Connie slipped her arm into Patrick’s. “There’s Bonnie in the doorway, let’s go.
“Hello!” Bonnie called cheerily, “it’s very cold, isn’t it?” She drew her coat up around her shoulders and gave a theatrical shudder, “thank you for coming! Without Ben around I thought I’d be a little outnumbered.” She beamed and gave them both a hug as they got within arm’s length. “Patrick, you look terrified. Are you ok?”
Patrick shrugged under his overcoat. “I’m alright, as long as they don’t burn Catholic heretics any more.”
“Really?” Connie shook her head in disbelief. “So the divorced, lapsed Catholic who hates Christmas is worried what a few carollers think of him?”
“How you doing Bonnie? Ben going to make it back for Christmas?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Connie poked him in the chest with her gloved finger.
“I don’t think so,” Bonnie hummed, “but stranger things have happened.” She sighed and blushed as she looked into the church. “Then again, who wants to be normal?”
She looked to Connie with a soft giggle, “I love him. I can’t complain.”
“Well here’s hoping he does.” Connie smiled as she looped her arm back through her boyfriend’s. “Come on Patrick, time to fake your festive frivolity.”
“How do you know these people, Bonnie?” Patrick looked around at the arriving crowd as they made their way in. “Seems like a unusual group for you to get involved in.”
“Oh!” Bonnie grinned, “the choirmaster is an old colleague of mine.” Her eyes got glittery, “He and I were friends when I worked in a school,” she glanced over Connie’s shoulder and beamed, waving brightly, “I had a crush on him for about six months before he left. Nothing happened… and then I got the education job.” She grinned at Connie, then at the man coming up behind her, “Hi Sam!”
Connie turned around to see the young man approaching Bonnie. She wasn’t interested in the man himself, as such, more what sort of guy, besides Ben, could hold Bonnie’s interest for so long. Physically he could not be more different to Ben, his round face filled with a smile that stretched far across his face. Patrick must have noticed something more for suddenly her hand was being squeezed by him a little harder as he too stared at the approaching Sam.
“Hello trouble!” His soft voice managed to carry over the hubbub of the assembled chorus as he swept Bonnie into a hug. The familiar smell of aftershave washed over her and she hugged him back, sighing softly as he lifted her a little. “Been too long. Have you grown?”
“Only my bank account,” Bonnie giggled back. “These are my friends, Connie and Patrick. Guys, this is Sam, resident music teacher and all around loser-”
“Oi!” He poked Bonnie in the ribs, tickling her. “Mean!”
“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Connie gave a little wave back and smiled but felt Patrick’s body shift from standing beside her to move closer to Bonnie. She questioned him with her eyes but he just gave her a little smile in return. Undeterred she turned back to Sam. “Quite a crowd, don’t expect to see this many people for something like this. You must be good?”
“I don’t mean to brag, or anything, but they do keep asking us back every year.” Sam gave a cheerful shrug, and glanced at the group of young people who were gathered at the back of the hall. “They’re pretty damn good, to be fair. Bonnie’s heard them before!” He glanced down at Bonnie with a warm smile, gently squeezing her with the arm he still had around her shoulders.
“They are fantastic. Very traditional,” Bonnie smiled a little wider. “I think you guys will enjoy them.”
“I’m sure we will. Won’t we?” Connie’s smile at Bonnie and Sam turned into a threatening glare as she turned around to Patrick.
“There is nowhere I would rather be.” Patrick enthused sarcastically.
“Ignore him Sam, someone has lost their Christmas spirit.” Connie elbowed Patrick in the side. “And we’re hoping you can help us find it for him.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage! Bonnie’s such a little Christmas elf I’m surprised she’s not got you handing out candy canes already!” Sam squeezed Bonnie again and she flushed red, looking up at Connie and Patrick with a shy smile. “Come on. I’ve saved you guys seats at the front.”
Connie followed the pair into the church but turned around quickly when she felt Patrick didn’t move. “What are you doing?” She hissed.
“I don’t like him.”
“You’ve just met him.”
“Well… He shouldn’t be like that with Bonnie, Ben wouldn’t like it.” Patrick tried to step backwards again.
“And you’re suddenly concerned for the welfare of their relationship?” Connie grabbed his hand pulling him over the threshold. “Or are you just trying to get out of the carols?”
Sam slung his arm around Bonnie happily, steering them toward the assembled masses at the end of the aisle. He smiled as he reintroduced the choir to Bonnie and proudly showed her off. She blushed and leaned into him a little, enjoying the familiarity of an old friend.
Connie steered Patrick towards where Bonnie and Sam were. She didn’t know what he was going on about. She was happy to see Bonnie happy and relaxed. It made a change from her normal antsy self when Ben was away.
With a thump Patrick threw himself into the wooden pew and shuffled along until there was enough space for Connie and Bonnie to sit down too. Connie rolled her eyes and sat down gently next to him.
Bonnie settled down beside them both and gave Connie a gentle squeeze on the arm. “Isn’t it lovely? The kids are so cute and Sam makes them sound so wonderful. You’ll love it. Even scrooge over there will get won over by them I think.” She poked her tongue out at Patrick and picked up the order of play. “Sam’s nice too, right?”
“Oh he is lovely and the kids are adorable.” Connie smiled.
“Too nice.” Patrick muttered as he picked up his own programme which got him another elbow to the ribs. With a glare he added. “You do realise you’re not making me festive with the domestic abuse?” Slightly louder he spoke to Bonnie. “Does he know about Ben? You remember Benedict, don’t you? Your fiancé?”
“Don’t be a dick, Patrick.” Bonnie shot back sharply, “I’m not going to have an affair with Sam. I’m not my-” She looked down and away, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, “Sam knows I’m with someone. We haven’t spoken since I got engaged to Ben, no, but he knows I’m off the market.” She felt her chest tighten a little and looked back at the chorus of teens lining up in their smart shirts. “I’ve known him for five years. We’re allowed to be friends.”
Patrick didn’t say any more, he shuffled into the seat more and made himself smaller.
“If you’re going to be like that, I don’t care if you’re not Christmassy, you can leave now.” Connie huffed and turned her shoulder away from Patrick.
Against every bone in his body telling him to stay quiet, he sat up and looked at both women. “I’m sorry, okay, it’s just…” He glanced over to where Sam was getting himself ready. “I know the look in his eyes, I know what being ‘just friends’ with a woman means, especially one who has had a crush on you, and yes he does know even if you don’t think he did.” He sighed and looked up at the rafters. “I know what he wants because four years ago, I *was* him. Spoken for, not spoken for, rings on fingers, committed relationships, all meant nothing. I don’t want that for you, okay?”
“And I appreciate that, Patrick, but don’t you think I’m a little bit-” she took a breath. “I am not stupid. I know Sam. And I know myself. To me, this ring means more than anything. And nobody could turn me away from Benedict. Not even Ben himself.” She took a deep breath. “History doesn’t have to repeat itself. And I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I would dare do something so cruel.” She bit the inside of her cheek and gently crossed her legs.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Patrick stuttered under the women’s gaze before giving a heavy sigh. “I know you wouldn’t, okay? But *some* men can’t take no for an answer, and if Ben were here he’d see it too. I’m just trying to keep you safe in Ben’s stead.”
The organ chose that moment to being to tune up and the conversation was put to an abrupt end. Patrick tried to mouth a ‘sorry’ towards Bonnie, but whether she was ignoring it or didn’t see he could not tell.
Bonnie silently fumed at Patrick. She turned away from him and focused on the group at the front, hurt, more than anything by the assertion that she couldn’t handle herself, and didn’t know her own mind. Her answer was no and if he wouldn’t take it, then he would have to deal with the police, should it come to that. Quietly, she closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. Sam wouldn’t do that. They were friends
Connie was stuck in the middle. Bonnie fuming on one side and Patrick sulking on the other. Brilliant Christmas this was starting to be. Sod them, she thought, and with a smile on her face listened to the music and sung along quietly to herself.
As the group sang their final song of the concert - “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” - Bonnie let the emotions overwhelm her. The song had been a well of happy tears since her sixteenth Christmas, when she and her mother had put up their first, safe Christmas. This was the song of fairy-tale, roaring fires and soft cuddles in jumpers they weren’t supposed to have, but did. Quietly, she leaned into Connie, squeezing her hand as she sent Ben a quick text.
Please come home for Christmas. I love you. xxx
Connie watched her friend send the text and gave her a little squeeze back. Turning to Patrick she saw him smiling slightly. Taking his hand in hers on the other side, she gave him a smile too.
“Less grumpy? More Christmassy yet?”
“Fine, it was good.” He nodded towards the choir. “They were good; still not sure about him, but they can sing.”
Bonnie smiled as she looked over at Connie and Patrick, biting her lip just a little, leaning into Connie and hugging her a little more firmly.
“You tell Sam that, and I’ll forgive you,” Bonnie gave a smile. “He lives for the kids and their achievements.”
She smiled at Patrick and Connie, “Shall I grab you both a mince pie and a cuppa?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Connie smiled watching Bonnie head off in the direction of the tea station. Patrick’s fingers ran over hers, his other hand covering them. She turned to face him. “Honestly, are you less grumpy?”
“They were good and it was nice to just sit and listen. Did you enjoy it? I heard you singing along.” Patrick smiled.
Connie gave a little blush. “I love Christmas songs, they just make me feel like nothing bad matters, all the problems of the world are forgotten for a moment. No matter how brief.”
“They don’t seem… overly tacky or sickly sentimental?”
“Is that how you feel?” She questioned him. “No, not at all. Along with warm roaring fires and the scent of far too much cinnamon and that glow you get from teeny tiny lights when you narrow your eyes just slightly. That’s Christmas.”
“It’s lovely, thank you.” Bonnie smiled and settled herself at the end of the table, waiting quietly for the cups of tea they were setting out on the tables. Carefully, she picked two up and leaned left and right trying to pick up the other.
“I’ve got it, kiddo,” Sam’s voice made her jump as he picked up the final cup. “Are they enjoying themselves?”
“I think so… even Patrick was smiling.” She grinned up at him. “Thanks for carrying these…”
“Right they’re coming back.” Connie sat up straighter and gave Bonnie and Sam a little wave. “Remember you promised her you’d be nice to him.”
“I didn’t promise,” Patrick replied petulantly, “but I will.” He too gave a smile but even the most unobservant could see there was an unwillingness behind it.
“Hello again! Teas all round!” Sam passed over the drinks as he leaned over the pews. “Did you enjoy it?” He looked at them both hopefully. “Bonnie said you did?” He was like a spaniel, Bonnie noticed, the way he tilted and shifted, she could almost see his tail wag.
“It was amazing.” Connie beamed at him as she took the tea with thanks. “Their voices were beautiful, just perfect.”
Patrick nodded. “Yeah, really good. Except that kid on the end, he was a bit flat in Silent Night.” Connie elbowed him but he managed to spin away holding his cup of tea up high. “Oi, oi, watch it, hot beverage. Okay, okay, they were all fine, it was nice.”
“Patrick is being facetious. It sounded lovely.” Bonnie smiled. “They get better every year and hey, by the end, he was smiling.” Bonnie grinned more. “Are you happy with them, Sam?” He nodded, beaming excitedly at being directly addressed. “They really did sound great.”
“Do you do other stuff at other times of the year?” Connie asked as she sipped her tea. “The theatre is always looking out for people who could fill the space in our downtime, could be a good opportunity?”
“We do them once every couple of months… just in various places. Wherever will take us, to be honest!” Sam smiled, in his element as he spoke about the choir. “They’re such enthusiastic kids, as well, I think they’d love the opportunity.”
Listening to them chatter, Bonnie relaxed as she sipped her tea, twiddling at her engagement ring as she checked her phone. Ben had replied, though it wasn’t concrete.
I’ll try. We’re rushed off our feet though. I miss you too.
Bonnie huffed a little, shoving her phone back into her pocket, and looking back at her friends.
Patrick watched Bonnie checking her phone. He swallowed his pride and sidled up to her. “Sorry about earlier. Any news from him?”
“It’s fine,” Bonnie shrugged and gave Patrick a nudge to the ribs, “we argue. It’s what family does.” She looked at her phone again. “He’s busy. They might not make it home for Christmas. What a load of wank-” she stopped, realising she was in a church, “I mean balls-crap… what a load of rubbish.”
Patrick stifled the snicker at Bonnie’s cursing, he was unaccustomed to hearing such words out of her mouth. “And that is why I don’t like Christmas. Too much pressure, too much expectation for one day. What does it matter if he’s not there for Christmas, he’ll be here soon enough.”
Bonnie looked up at Patrick with a little frown on her face. “But… who am I going to spend the day with, then? To watch bad telly with, and sit by the fire with?” She put her hand into her pocket, and shook her head. “It’s the one time that you’re supposed to spend with your loved ones,” she went on. “New Years is friends and parties. Birthdays are the same. There’s that space on Christmas morning where nobody moves out of bed because they’re happy. They’re with the person they want to be with.” She shrugged. “I know it’s heavily commercialised. I know it’s stupid. But it doesn’t stop it hurting when you spend the day alone.” She shrugged again, “still. That’s just me.”
“That’s all well and good if you have someone, but if the ones you love don’t want you, Christmas is just another day. Better to be alone than force yourself through gaieties for the sake of it.” Patrick realised he had said it aloud before he had thought it through. “
Bonnie immediately slipped her arms around Patrick and hugged him close. Her hands gently rubbed his back, kissing his cheek as she thought about his words.
“Sweetheart, I understand that.” Her fingers tightened on his. “I get that you’ve been alone, you’ve been hurt before. I don’t know what happened-” she hesitated, before shooting in the dark, “but if Beth was cruel to you at Christmas then it’s not your fault. She was a cow, but that…” She took a slow breath. “That’s in the past. And it hurts, but we mustn’t suffer because of it. It’s like the monkey in the lion king says, it still hurts but we have to make the choice.” Her hand brushed over his cheek. “You have an abundance of people who adore you right now, Patrick. I love you. Connie is *in* love with you. Wanda and Tim would have you over in a heartbeat if they were in the country…”
“You’re too kind Bonnie, but you’ve got it wrong. I’m the arse, I’m the one who left my family when they needed me most, at Christmas.” He gripped her hand tightly. “I left my son a note, when he could barely read. My own parents wouldn’t take me in that year. Everyone since has tried to get me festive, but I don’t think I’ve paid my penance yet. Connie, bless her, is too good; too good for someone like me, yet here she is.”
“No.” She whispered. “Not at all. Don’t you fucking dare, Patrick.” Bonnie pulled at his arm and with a nod to Connie and holding up one finger, pulled Patrick out into the churchyard. She pushed him gently onto the bench set back into the walls of the building and settled down next to him. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me, Patrick. There’s a lot that I might never be ready to share, but you know that if I am anything, I am honest. It may have hurt people, but…” She took a breath. “In the long run, you did what was best. Oliver is happy, now. You’re happy. Or getting there. I can tell you now, that being in the middle of a destructive parental relationship is the last thing you want for a child. He was young enough to… for it to leave fewer scars than if you’d stayed and turned to hating one another.” Bonnie turned her head toward him, lifted up the hair at the side of her head. “Physical and emotional. He likely doesn’t hurt over it.” She looked at Patrick, waiting for his rebuttal, feeling safe enough to discuss it all with him.
Patrick let his head fall forward into his hands. “I’m a fuckwit,” he turned his eyes skyward, “no offence; Oliver, for some bizarre reason is well adjusted, loves me, loves Connie and his mum, and her man.“ He placed his hand gently on Bonnie’s knee. “I won’t ask if you don’t want to tell but sounds like we’re both hiding a few skeletons. It just means I’ve kinda ruined this whole time of year for myself. Now I’m ruining it for Ollie, Connie,… you.”
Bonnie flung her arms around him and held him close. “Fuck, Patrick… you’ve not ruined shit for any of us. You said yourself, Oliver is better adjusted than you’d have imagined. I think he’s better adjusted than me! He has the most massive, loving family around him and you need to know, sweetheart, that we are here for you too.” She hugged him a little closer. “Everyone has a shitty time of year.” She gently squeezed his hand. “Valentine’s day is mine. But thats beside the point. Our hearts are Christmassy enough for you, and if you want to join in… then you can. But we won’t pressure you into loving Christmas.” She hugged him closer and stroked his back. “I’ll answer your questions if you want to ask them.”
He gave a small chuckle and gave her a small kiss to the top of her head. “I won’t, you’re entitled to keep that to yourself until you’re ready. Besides its Connie that does the heart to hearts, I do the mocking and fake sympathy, so don’t really want to ruin whatever shitty memory you have that’s holding you back from being with Ben 100% and don’t lie because I deal with shitty salesmen for a living, so know a lie when I hear one.” Patrick sat quietly watching the stars with Bonnie beside him, before he pulled her into his side closer. “Can you keep a secret? I’ve bought Connie a bauble. It’s small and it’s not much but I hoped it would be enough to show her all this… hasn’t been a complete waste of her time.”
“I’m very good at secrets,” Bonnie whispered, shutting her eyes and leaning into Patrick with a little sigh. She opened her eyes again and looked up at her friend, patting his knee gently. “And that’s gorgeous, Patrick. Truly gorgeous. If both of us were single, I’d hit on you.” She laughed again. “I’ll tell you one day. Promise. But don’t beat yourself up about something like this. It’s… stranger things have happened.” She gently squeezed his hand. “Come on. Connie’s probably bored of Sam by now.” She winked.
“Nah.” Patrick pushed himself off the bench, holding out his hands to help Bonnie up. “If he’s single I can almost guarantee Connie will have her little black book out. She’s got to make use of all those exes somehow.” He gave a small smile. “I have to stop doing that, she’s my little Christmas angel and I have to treat her right. Come on,” he held out his arm, “there are mince pies in there with our names on.”
"She’s good at that.” Bonnie chuckled as she linked arms with him, a small smile playing about her lips. “I know a couple of girls I could introduce him to… although… try not to mention him to Ben? I imagine he’d be horrendously jealous.” She giggled softly. “I think I saw gingerbread cookies in there too. I will eat my weight in those if you don’t stop me!” She tugged on his arm gently and they headed back inside. “Connie!”
Connie turned at the sound of her name and smiled at Patrick and Bonnie returning. She quickly shoved the post it note she had scribbled into Sam’s palm. “She was third understudy for Adelaide in Guys and Dolls, but don’t let that put you off, she’s really good, and nice, and bakes a mean brownie.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder before holding out her arms to give Bonnie a hug. “Thought you two had gotten lost out there.” She let Bonnie go and gave Patrick a quizzical look. “Is it snowing yet?”
“Not yet.” He gave her a hug, slightly tighter than he meant to but she didn’t complain, if anything hugged him back tightly too.
“Okay?” She whispered gently.
“Okay.” He pulled back and looked at her. Pushing a strand of hair from her forehead he asked, “any mince pies left?”
“I’ll get them!” Bonnie grinned and looked over at Sam, chuckling at how red he had gone. She watched him shove his hands into his pockets and quietly slip away, pulling out his phone and fiddling with the number. She slipped across the church and piled her arms up with sweet treats, letting Patrick and Connie have their moment alone. Everyone was happy - she liked that.
-----
Several days later Patrick shut the door behind him quietly. Connie’s voice was fluttering about the living room, hitting certain words in the Christmas songs and lalala-ing in between where she wasn’t sure of the words. He gave a smile to himself, he had an inkling that today was going to be the day that she had chosen to surprise him but he hadn’t expected to feel so excited when he had seen the flash of a tiny bulb between the roughly pulled curtains as he had pulled up in the driveway.
He had obviously been louder than he thought he had for when he had turned around to place his shoes on the rack a sweet voice behind him uttered a small, “Evening.”
He spun around and gave Connie a little wave and a “hey.”
“Don’t hate me.” She bit her lip as she used her frame to block the doorway.
“Why would I hate you?”
“I know what you said about trees and decorations, but for me, I need a tree for it to feel like Christmas and I don’t care what you say, I want to celebrate properly.”
Patrick smiled. “I’m the one who has been selfish. You deserve Christmas. Just tell me there isn’t a light up reindeer on the roof and I’ll be happy.”
Connie held out her hands as she closed the gap across the hallway. Gripping his hands, she looked into his eyes. “There is no light up reindeer on the roof.” She pulled on his hands gently as she walked backwards towards the living room. “There is a light up Santa though.” She smirked and he gave a chuckle knowing how she felt about heights.
Patrick stepped over the threshold to the room and stopped. A large tree sat in the bay window, trimmed with tinsel and balls and a golden star atop. Little ornaments depicting Father Christmas and reindeer travelled over the fireplace where below two stockings hung, one red with a large P sewn on and one green with a C. More tinsel hung over the edges of the picture frames in the walls and over the coffee table a white embroidered cloth with holly hid the usual stark top.
Connie shuffled, anxious for Patrick’s reaction. “If it’s too much, say and I can get rid of some of it.”
Patrick twirled around, the room seemed smaller, cosier and warmer somehow. “To be honest I was expecting worse.” He glanced at Connie before correcting himself. “Not worse, more.”
“I didn’t want to frighten you.” Connie moved further into the room and pointed out little things. “The tree is new, as are the baubles and tinsel; I didn’t know if you even had anything so realised we’d be starting from scratch. The cloth was my grandmother’s, the reindeer my mother’s, and I made the stockings for us.”
Letting go of her hand for the first time, Patrick headed over to the cabinet at the back of the room as Connie looked on a little bemused. “Time to start a new collection then?” He pulled out a small gift wrapped box and handed it to her. “To say sorry. For being me.”
Connie looked at him and then back at the box with a worried look on her face. “It’s not going to explode is it?”
“You won’t know unless you open it.”
She pulled at the wrapping to find a small clear box. Inside was a dark red bauble, the size of her fist. Turning it over she spied the words written on the side. First of many Christmases.
“Oh…”
It was Patrick’s turn to look worried. “Good oh or bad oh?”
“Good,” she assured him, “very good. Lovely in fact.” She fumbled with the box slightly but managed to extract the delicate ball. “Where shall we put it?”
“Front and centre.” Patrick nodded at the tree. “Where it deserves to be.”
Connie placed the golden strand over the front most branch and let the ball fall down with a tinkle and a twirl as it settled into place. “There. Perfect.”
Arms reached around her and Patrick placed a small kiss on her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder to look at the tree too. “Perfect,” he echoed.
“Actually not quite.” Connie turned around to face him. “I lied slightly.”
“Yes?”
“One more decoration.” She pointed upwards towards the light fitting. Hanging below it was a sprig of mistletoe.
“Well then, can’t disappoint the gods of Christmas.” Patrick pulled her into the centre of the room just as the last bars of Silent Night drifted off and the tones of Frank Sinatra picked to first lines of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.
He kissed her gently, his arms wrapping around her tightly. She kissed him back and felt her body start to sway to the music. Patrick let his arms loosen around her, watching her as her eyes closed, and his body began to move of its own accord. He knew this song…
Maybe one more Christmas miracle was on the cards.
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” His voice was both slow and off key. Connie couldn’t help but giggle, as she laid her hands on his chest, the smile crept over her lips and she looked up into his eyes. “Shhh.” Patrick tried to sound indignant but feeling her hands on him as he pulled her close was so endearing.
Connie pursed her lips before laying her head in his chest. Patrick felt his breath shudder as he tried to remember the next lines of the song.
They swayed together under the mistletoe, in the lights of the tree twinkling over their faces, Patrick’s eyes glittering in the half light of the changing bulbs. He smiled as Connie watched him, blinking a little as the flash pattern changed to a more rapid effect. He grunted and turned them, in their little slow dance, pulling her closer to bury his face in her hair.
“From now on, our troubles will be far away…” he felt his voice reaching, but the soft swell of the instrumental that was in his head had finally reached him. This was the Christmas that Connie had talked about, the one that Bonnie had tried to convince him of outside the church, where nobody else mattered and it was just the pair of them, swaying and lit to their own Christmas present, the ghosts of Christmas past far behind them.
Connie’s voice joined his, cracking on the high notes that neither of them had been trained to hit.
“And have yourself, a merry little Christmas Day…”
Christine pushed open the door to the cafe and smiled at Patrick as he followed. “Thanks for taking me to my appointment. You know I am capable of driving myself. I can still reach the wheel.” she laughed.
“Hey, I know I’m like fifth in the queue for these sort of things but if I can’t take advantage of my job on the odd occasion why have I fought so hard to reach the top?” He laughed along. “Besides I need to know why Connie prefers the muffins from this place to mine.”
“Because of Marcus.” Christine said smiling at the attractive man behind the counter. “He makes the best muffins.” she chuckled as she looked back at Patrick. As she scanned the small interior for a spot to sit her eyes fell on a familiar face and her jaw clenched. “No fucking way.” she grumbled.
“His cheekbones are too high and she doesn’t like short men, why would she…” Patrick turned when he realised that Christine wasn’t following his conversation. “What’s up?”
The woman looked Christine straight in the eyes, grimaced and turned back to her phone as if she hadn’t noticed her. “What a bitch…” Christine growled. “Order me a bran muffin please. I’ll… find us a seat.” she said walking away from Patrick with determination. “Riley.” She said pointedly as she stopped at the woman’s table. Looking up the woman forced a smile of surprise.
“Oh my god, Christine?” she replied. Christine ground her teeth as she smiled back. “How have you been? I see you swallowed a basketball.” she laughed.
“Been great.” Christine replied. “So you haven’t fallen off the face of the Earth after all I see.”
Patrick placed the order from the short man behind the counter, who was possibly a little suspicious at the way he was staring at him before turning and looking for Christine.
With a tray balanced with pastries and drinks he headed over to her. It seemed to be turning into a day for people testing his resolve as the calm and collected one. He had no idea who the woman Christine was talking to was, but the body language was enough for him to place the tray down on the empty table next to Christine with a little force and sent the muffin spinning on its plate.
“Everything alright here?” He placed his arm around Christine’s shoulders defensively. “Going to introduce me?”
“I see you left the odd gangley one behind. Good choice.” Riley smiled as she ran her eyes up and down Patrick.
“I haven’t. This is my friend Patrick. I’m married to the gangley one.” Christine spat back. “Patrick this is Riley, back from her holiday away from people who thought she cared about them.”
“Wouldn’t say back entirely… peeking in to see what I’ve missed is more like it.” Riley smiled at Patrick. “So… this a single friend Patrick or…” she fluttered her eyes slightly.
It wasn’t that he took an instant dislike to the woman, he hardly ever did that, but the tone between the pair of them was grating. Now he knew what he missed growing up in a household of brothers. Girls were mean. Time for the white lie. “Sorry to disappoint, married too. Married to her best friend. The best friend who stood by her when she tried to make a new life in a strange country.” Patrick tightened his grip on Christine’s shoulder. “I now count myself lucky to call Christine one of my friends too…”
“I was there when she moved. She’s the one that abandoned me.” Riley sniped.
“Excuse me! I flew home all the time to see you because you refused to come here. Even when you moved to fucking Boston to live with Chris I still made the effort to come see you. You never once flew here to see me.” Christine defended. “I took your ass all the way to Comic Con TWICE!”
“You wanted to do those things. No one told you that you had to.” Riley replied rolling her eyes.
“I lost my baby because of you!” she growled loudly.
“Seems to be doing just fine.” Riley quipped motioning to her extended belly.
Patrick stepped forward in front of Christine at that. “Listen up. That was literally below the belt. Either both of you start being civil or you both stop speaking and walk away now. I really don’t fancy bullshit with my muffin.”
“And he gives orders. Ow.” Riley smiled. “Much better than Tom.” She added. “I was leaving anyway. Have a flight to catch. Was really only passing through.” She started gathering her things.
“Why Riley?” Christine asked. “Why throw away a fifteen year friendship?”
“We both just moved on to better things.” She smiled. “You left me behind and now I’m leaving you. Simple.” She said getting up from the table.
“I didn’t… you can’t just walk away like I’m nothing.” Christine could feel the tears stinging her eyes.
“Watch me.” Riley replied leaning in close and then starting for the door.
“Say hi to Tom for me Mrs. Hiddleston.” She called out loud enough for the entire street to hear as she opened the door. “Nice to see he’s knocked you up properly this time.” She turned back with a grin. “Unlike the last time. Cute boy toy too.” With a wink she walked away. Christine could feel the eyes on her now. She could practically read the tweets being written.
“I swear I’m going to skin her.” She grumbled under her breath as she took a step towards the door but Patrick stopped her.
“Don’t.” He put his arm across her chest. He watched Riley smirk as she headed down the street and felt his blood boil. There was mean and then there was malicious and then there was whatever that was. “I can’t believe I’m saying this and it’s going to be hard but ignore her, ignore it. It is not worth it. You are better without someone like that in your life.”
Christine scrunched up her face as her fists clenched. “Fine.” She sighed. “She’s gone.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Patrick.” She mumbled.
“Why are you sorry?” Patrick looked at her confused. “She’s the one who was rude straight off the bat. Are you okay?” He pulled out a chair and steered Christine to sit down before pushing a muffin towards her. “Want to tell me what it was really all about?”
Christine sat and picked at the muffin. “I never realized how nasty she was before. Guess I’ve always just brushed it off as her normal sass but… but that was mean wasn’t it?” she asked. “Never thought she was outright mean before.”
“She might not have been mean before, but that was.” Patrick leaned over and grabbed his own coffee. “Maybe this so called abandonment she’s feeling has made her bitter and now she is less sass more hate?”
“No… now that I think about it that was a pretty normal conversation.” she confessed. “Riley was never very… nice. Very opinionated and judgmental.” she ate a piece of her muffin. “Was always on me for being… different. Trying to mould me into something I wasn’t.” she grinned sadly. “It’s what I thought friends did. Until I met Tom and Connie.” she laughed.
“Then you are definitely better without her in your life.” Patrick gave a small smile. “And you certainly landed on your feet with those two, couldn’t have had better change of fortune if you tried.”
“And with you.” Christine returned the smile. “Don’t cut yourself short Patrick. As a boy toy you really are top of the pile.” She laughed.
“Now that is the only good thing I will take away from today.” Patrick nudged her gently. “I don’t think I have ever been someone’s boy toy, let alone having the honour of being yours.”
Christine laughed as she took another bite of her muffin. “Just don’t tell Tom. He might get upset. I think he thinks your his boy toy.” She smiled. “Don’t want to crush his dreams.”
“Why couldn’t I be this irresistible when I was single?” Patrick raised his eyebrows and gave a laugh before stopping and shaking his head. “Scrap that, I haven’t actually been single for more than two months since I was 20.” He gave a little cough. “Anyway, water under the bridge all passed now?”
“I’m good.” Christine smiled leaning over and putting her head on Patrick’s shoulder. “You’re a great friend Patrick. I don’t care what Tom says… he’s not allowed to trade you in for a new model.“ she laughed.
“I’m being replaced?” Patrick feigned shock. “How dare he! Who with? I’ll fight them, I will.”
“He was looking at Ben but… I was hoping for younger.” Christine said. “Maybe Nicholas Hoult…” she shrugged. “I’m just kidding. You are irreplacable.” she said leaning in and hugging him.
Patrick her a hug back. “In the same way you need to learn to be choosy with your own friends, I don’t think you need to start choosing Tom’s for him.” He gave a side eye. “Especially not on the basis of who you might fancy having all to yourself at some point.”
“Spoil sport.” she smiled. “You’re all I need Patrick. Like the big brother I never had and never really wanted but got anyway.” she joked. “Just be good to Connie or I’ll have to gank ya.” she said poking him in the chest. “I ain’t above stabbing a brother.” she said squinting at him with a smile.
“Don’t you start!” Patrick sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “I get enough of that from Tom. Have I not redeemed myself? Is 18 months good behaviour and being so in love with her not enough?”
Christine laughed. “It is. You’ve been really great for her.” she smiled. “You’re good for each other. I’m glad that I made Tom invite you.” she confessed. “Match maker extraordinaire.” she smiled.
“That you are and I’m forever grateful, and for my own sense to leave the house rather than feel sorry for myself one more day.” Patrick gave a smile. “And that is why you are a great friend that doesn’t deserve shit.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
Christine finished her muffin and sighed. “Best let you get back to work.” she said. “I’m sure you have lots of important real world jobs to do.” she smiled. “From boy toy to sugar daddy.” she laughed.
On her way to the couch Christine heard keys in the door. Stopping she wondered what Connie or Patrick had forgotten. As it opened she looked around the room.
“What did you forget this time Patrick?” she joked shifting her weight to her crutch properly before he could yell at her.
“Having other men over ofte-” Tom froze in the doorway. The smile on his face vanishing as he saw her in her cast. “What happened?”
“Tom…” She said with panic. “What are you doing home?” she forced a smile as she attempted to turn towards him.
“Got a break.” he shut the door and pointed at her leg. “What happened?” his face still blank as he stared at her.
“Nothing. Just missed a curb. No big deal.” she smiled.
“No big deal… I just talked to you yesterday. When did this happen?” his voice getting higher as he spoke.
“Few days ago.” she replied making her way towards the sofa.
“A few days ago! And you didn’t think to tell me!” he snapped.
“You’d have just worried and overreacted.” she carefully sat down on the sofa trying not to wince in pain.
“Of course I’d worry, you broke your leg!”
“It’s not a big deal. Connie and Patrick have been making sure I stay off it.” she replied.
“And they didn’t tell me. I’m going to have words with them.” he growled.
“Tom no. I told them not to tell you. Everything is fine. We’re both fine. Theo is healthy I’m not in any pain meds everything is…”
“If you say fine one more time Christine I swear to god I’m going to lose it.” he snarled walking around to face her. She looked at him with shock.
“I knew you’d do this. I knew you’d overreact and go all alpha over nothing.” she retorted.
“It’s my job!” he shouted. “You’re my wife, that’s my son!” he pointed at her belly. “I am supposed to protect you.”
“Protect me from what? My own inability to see curbs?!” she snapped. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but I didn’t need you coming home and babying me again. I’m a full grown person with another person growing inside of me, I think I’m pretty capable of handling things on my own when I need to.” Tom’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Now you need to calm down. Theo and I are…”
“His names not fucking Theo yet!” Tom shouted. Christine stared at him in shock. “And don’t give me your stupid ‘he’s my baby and I can name him what I want and Tom will deal’ bullshit that you’ve been feeding everyone else. This is my son too and I get a goddamn say in what’s important for him whether you want it or not!” his face started to turn red as he shouted. “You may think you’re some kind of single parent but you knew what you were getting when we started and I will not be pushed aside just so you can feel like you’re some kind of saint for doing this alone!” Christine looked away from him and clenched her jaw.
“Get out.” she said calmly.
“What?” Tom practically growled. Christine pushed herself up off the couch and glared at him.
“I said get out!” she shouted. “If that’s what you think I’m doing or how you see me then get the fuck out Thomas!” she pointed at the door as she stared at him. Tom just stood and stared at her. Taking a few steps towards him Christine stared him down. “I said… get… out.” Finally with a snivel Tom grabbed up his keys and slammed the door behind him. Taking a few calming breaths Christine made her way back to the sofa and sat down. Closing her eyes she spread her fingers out across her belly and tried to calm down. “I love your father.” she said aloud. “But I swear… if you get his temper…” she shook her head and sighed. “Son of a… now I’m going to worry about him all night.” she grumbled. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her phone and called Connie.
“Don’t you dare answer it.” Patrick mumbled.
“But…” Connie bit her lip and glanced over at the phone. “What if…”
His face came up level with her and gave her a disapproving look. “I swear Constance, if you answer that, you are telling me that this,” he waved his hand between them, “is less important than you’re friends’ latest crisis.”
Connie threw her head backwards in frustration of the situation, in doing so caught sight of the name on the screen. “It’s Christine. What if she’s fallen again? Do want that on your conscience?”
Patrick stood up and grabbed his jeans from the floor. “Answer it but you will owe me this time.”
Connie blew him a kiss before picking up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”
“So guess who showed up and threw the world’s largest temper tantrum for a full sized man.” Christine grumbled.
“Tom? Tom’s back? When? How?” Connie’s string of exclamations made Patrick stop dressing and turn around again. He gave her a silent ‘what’s he doing home?’ look, to which she replied with an equally silent ‘I don’t know!’
“Got a break he said.” Christine replied. “Before going off on me about my foot and how I’m trying to be some kind of saint or something by doing this pregnancy alone. Where the fuck does he get off thinking I want to do this alone?” she snapped. “Self-righteous fucking… fuck.” she grumbled. “Anyway… I kicked his ass out and he took off. Now I’m worried about him.” she sighed.
“Shit.” Connie held her head in her hand. “Does he think you do this for fun? Did he take the car? Might narrow down where he’s headed.”
“He’s going to come here, isn’t he?” Patrick flopped down on the sofa next to Connie.
“Yes he took the car. He’ll probably end up at that bar he likes. He’s…” she sighed. “He’s mad at you guys too. For not ratting me out about my leg.” she confessed. “Went off about having words with you. I told him it was my fault and I told you guys not to tell him but… you know how he gets.”
Connie held out the phone slightly so that Patrick could hear the conversation without her having to relay everything. “He’s worried about you Christine, and he’s just concerned your shutting him out by excluding him.”
“He’s an idiot.” Patrick jumped straight back up again and grabbed his own car keys.
“Where are you going?” Connie looked between the phone and Patrick.
“The Belgrave Arms. You stay here, keep in contact with Christine.” He grabbed his jacket. “I’ll let you know if I find him.”
“Did you get that?” Connie asked down the receiver.
“I’m not shutting him out!” Christine snapped. “I’ve told him that a hundred times but I don’t need him treating me like some fragile unreliable child. He got upset with me the other night because I shut my finger in the fridge while I was on the phone with him. Seriously! I wasn’t mortally injured and he acted like I’d just cut off my own hand.” she grumbled.
“I’m not saying you are shutting him out, I’m saying he might feel like that.” Connie sighed down the phone as Patrick waved and ran out the front door. “He’s missing the baby stuff, first kicks and appointments, but he’s also missing stuff with you. Maybe we shouldn’t have hidden your foot from him, but it’s happened and now we need to fix this somehow.”
“I wouldn’t have hidden it if he hadn’t been so neurotic lately.” Christine grumbled. “I tell him stuff and he blows it all out of proportion. I don’t need his stress added to what I already deal with.” She sighed. “I need to lie down. Can you let me know if you find him? I jut need to know that he’s safe.”
—–
Tom sat at the back of the bar staring into his second glass of Jameson. His mind running over the conversation with Christine over and over again when he noticed Patrick walk into the bar and spot him. “Fuck off Patrick. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Believe me, you are not my first choice of companion for this evening either.” Patrick ordered two more glasses of whiskey from the barman and made his way over to Tom. “Now I’m happy to listen to any of your woes and rants but I refuse to get into the hows and whys of you not being told about Christine’s foot. It happened and she coped.”
“I don’t know why she felt she had to hide it from me.” he grumbled downing the rest of his glass as the barman brought over another. “She says I’ve been over reacting over everything but everything is such a big deal now. She doesn’t understand. She has to be more careful, more thoughtful with all of her actions. She’s got another living being counting on her to not be stupid and reckless.” He took a drink from the new glass and shook his head. “I’m not there to protect her, I have to count on her to do these things on her own.”
“Have you considered maybe she was protecting you?” Patrick swirled the amber drink around in his glass, not really wanting to start the hard drinking yet, but needing to give Tom the impression he was on his side. “If you’d have found out you’d have been on the first flight back and jeopardised not only the production you’re on but your future career too. These things happen; she was doing nothing more harmless than walking so unless you’re planning on tying her to the bed, she’s still going to be at some risk.”
“She still should have fucking told me.” Tom grumbled. “And tying her to the bed doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. Would keep her away from… everything.” he took another drink. With a sigh he sat back in his chair and shook his head. “I know I can be neurotic. I know that… I’m probably smothering her and…” he traced the rim of his glass with his finger lazily. “I’m missing everything Patrick. Everything. And I’m set to miss more.”
“To be brutally honest mate, unless you drastically change your career, you’re going to miss shit.” Patrick shrugged. “You’re still a few months away from the whole alien foot out of the stomach stuff and everything else is kinda boring.”
“I just… I didn’t think it would be this hard. You know she picked out a nursery set without me. She’s even calling him Theo behind my back.” he grumbled. “I shouldn’t care right… but I do. These are important decisions and I’m being left out. I feel like she’s doing it on purpose. Punishing me for some reason.”
“I don’t think she’s punishing you, not really…” Patrick sat back and looked over Tom’s deflated figure. “Everyone keeps asking her how she’s going to cope alone, when you’re not there, and maybe she’s taken it a little bit too much to heart. This could be her coping mechanism, testing herself by doing as much as she can while you’re not there?”
Tom swirled his glass as he thought over Patrick’s reasoning. “I hate that people ask her that.” he sighed. “I promised her she wouldn’t do this alone but she sent me away. She told me to leave; how can I argue with her when she doesn’t really need me.” he finished the last of his whiskey and sighed. “I’m trying to force myself into this so that I’m needed but in truth she could do this alone. I know she could. Which makes it hurt more.” he ran his fingers through his hair and rolled his neck. “I’m being a twat aren’t I?” he asked looking at Patrick. “This is all my fault.”
“I don’t think you’re completely to blame.” Patrick tried to play devil’s advocate. “You both knew your workload, and maybe you could have given this job up but at the same time it’s not like you’ve scheduled stuff for around the time of the birth, right?”
Tom grimaced and shifted in his chair. “I’ve got Thor until end of June early July.” he replied. “But I’ve told everyone her date and they all understand if I can’t be there. They’ve even rescheduled shoots so that I can get my scenes in first which is nice.” he added. “This was just so unplanned. I mean I want it… more than anything in the world but she won’t let me skirt my other responsibilities and I love her for it. But at the same time I hate her for pushing me away.” he sighed. “I honestly don’t know how people do this. I’m not even growing the child and I feel so… stressed out. I can only imagine the hardship this has put on Christine.” he shook his head. “I want to thank you for being there in my stead. It means a lot to me.”
“A poor substitute in anyone’s book.” Patrick smiled and finally took a sip of his drink. “No one can ever be ready for a child but that said you did move your wedding up two whole years because you couldn’t wait. If you’d have stuck to your original timetable you’d have worked your schedule a little better. But who’s to say you wouldn’t have then gotten the part of a lifetime then and not been able to turn it down.”
“This is my part of a lifetime.” Tom smiled. “And I’m mucking it up.” he sighed. “I just don’t want to start out a shit father. I want to do everything right, everything perfect.” he went on. “But I guess that I can’t can I? I’m going to fuck up, I’m going to ruin things… its part of the job right?”
Patrick laughed. “You are talking to the king of shit fathers, if you do better than me, then you’re onto a winner.” He swilled his drink again. “Honestly, you will fuck up but if you care and you love them, her and little him, then little things don’t matter. In five, ten years time, nobody is going to remember what colour the cot was, or even who built it. It was a complete bugger by the way, so you’ll thank me later.”
“You’re not a shit father.” Tom replied. “Shit husband maybe but…” he chuckled. “Ollie loves you to bits. You’re amazing with him.” he added. “And thanks for putting it together. Christine was supposed to wait for me but… she got it in her head that she needed it and when she gets something in her head.” he sighed. “Like Theo… I love the name I do but will it fit him? I don’t know. He could come out and look nothing like a Theodore. He could look like a Michael or a Marcus. But she won’t listen to me.”
“That is true. It’s another thing she’s doing to deal with the stress, she can’t control your movements, or bring you home sooner, but she can organise the nursery, she can make a decision on the name…” Patrick gave a little scoff and a smile. “At least she’s not calling him Bradley.”
“Oh alright I know that was a shit choice.” Tom laughed shaking his head. “I’m never going to live that one down am I?” he asked. “I suppose you’re right though. I’m not looking at it from her point of view. I mean… I guess I just wanted her to wait on me for everything and she can’t… or things will never get done.”
“Be grateful she’s making any progress. If this didn’t have such a definite end date, you’d both be putting everything off; he’d be 18 and you’d still wouldn’t have found a stroller.” Patrick felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. “Shit, shit, shit. Guess who forgot to tell your wife that I’d found you… I’m an idiot.”
Christine paced as she waited for Patrick to answer the phone. Alternating between holding her belly and running her fingers through her hair. “Come on Patrick…” she grumbled low.
“Hey Christine…” Patrick answered sheepishly. “Might have found him and might have bought him a drink.”
“Oh my god. I’ve been worried sick.” she sighed. “Is he alright? You’re not getting him all sloppy drunk are you? I can’t handle that right now Patrick.” she rambled anxiously.
“He’d had a few before I got here but we’ve only had one more.” Patrick mouthed over to Tom ‘want to go home?’
Tom looked at his drink and finished it before nodding and calling over the bartender to take care of the bill.
“Just tell him to come home please.” Christine said. “I don’t care if he’s still mad at me. I just want him to come home. I can’t sleep.” she confessed. “I can’t sleep well when he’s away to begin with but… knowing he’s here… just tell him I’m sorry.” she rambled.
“You can tell him yourself.” Patrick managed to quickly pull a switch between the bill in Tom’s hand and the mobile in his own. Before Tom had time to realise what Patrick had done, he was already pulling notes out of his wallet to cover the drinks bill. “Talk to her then.”
Tom sighed and sank into his chair as he put the phone to his ear. “I’m sorry Christine.”
“No, I’m sorry. I should have told you about my leg. I shouldn’t have done all this without you. I just… I wanted it done when you got home so you wouldn’t have as much to worry about. You worry too much.” she replied.
“I know. I’m going to try to be better. I promise… no more neurotic Tom. Just the carefree man that you married.” he smiled.
“Now don’t be going crazy over there. One of us has to be the adult and I refuse.” she replied.
“Patrick will be our adult.” he said smiling at his friend.
Patrick shook his head. “I think you’re confusing me with my girlfriend, she’s the adult in this group. Shit… Talking of which she doesn’t know I found you either…” He patted down his pockets and then remembered that it was his phone Tom was using. “Damn, now I’ve lost my one bloody advantage.”
Tom laughed. “I’ll be home soon. Have to give Patrick back his phone before Connie calls and kills him down the line.”
“Alright. Talk more when you get here.” Christine replied.
“No… we’ll sleep. Then if we still need to talk we’ll do it over breakfast.”
“Sounds good. I love you.” she laughed.
“Love you too.” Tom said before hanging up the phone and handing it back to Patrick. “Thanks for coming to find me.” he smiled. “Guess I do need a babysitter after all.” he laughed.
“Just don’t make a habit of it,” Patrick laughed as he fired off a text to Connie, “Or you have Connie’s sex life to answer to. But seriously, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, if you need either of us to do anything, shout, okay?”
“You got it.” Tom replied with a smile as he stood up. “I’ll try to be on my very best behaviour from now on. Wouldn’t want to ruin Connie’s sex life.” he chuckled. Putting his arm around Patrick’s shoulder he made for the door. “Please tell me that Christine didn’t call and interrupted something extremely juicy and fun.” he smiled. “I fear that I’d owe you some kind of repayment or something if she did.”
“She interrupted intent and potential, which is almost as bad.” Patrick scoffed. “We seem to be running a game of favours owed at the moment; Christine’s call gave one to me, me forgetting to call her may have given her one.” He pulled open the door to the outside world. “You going to be okay driving back?”
“Yea.” Tom answered patting him on the back. “Only had the two.” He smiled. “You should rack up more favours. Ask for something big, something different. Spice it up a bit.”
“I think we’re good.” Patrick gave a chuckle. “Spice is not lacking; time and privacy are the biggest problem. And we’re picking Oliver up at the weekend so it’s only going to get worse.” Patrick stopped briefly. “Got over your issues? Because you do realise that your opportunities and energy levels are going to go through the floor once he’s born.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Tom replied. “I think Christine is looking forward to it. Something other than her to wear me out.” Tom laughed. “Better get home. Thanks for kicking me in the ass Patrick.” He smiled.
“The pair of you had better sort yourselves out because I don’t want to be fishing you out of bars when you’re escaping a screaming baby.” Patrick laughed slapping Tom on the shoulder as he headed back to his own car. “Drive safe mate.”
Christine tapped her foot impatiently as she listened to the phone ring, waiting for Connie to pick up. The second she heard her friends voice she couldn’t control her excitement. “Connie, we need to go shopping. I’m thinking green and gold to match Asgard. What do you think? Wooden crib? I saw one online that I liked a lot but I think I want to go look at some, see them in person you know?” she began to ramble. “I want something nice. Tom says money is no problem, whatever I want for our little boy.” she wiggled in her chair as she smiled. “A boy Connie… it’s a boy. Oh I’m so happy.”
Connie could not help but smile down the phone at her friend’s news. “A boy? Amazing news. I bet you are both so happy. Everything else was well with the scan?” She grabbed her bag and checked the diary. “You do realise who you’re talking to, right? Any excuse to shop, though I have no idea where one goes for such things for babies.”
“Lots of places. But I was thinking we could start at Tutti Bambino I love one of the sets they have.” Christine said with excitement. “Been looking at it online and I think it’ll go perfectly.“ she smiled.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to take Sarah or someone else who already has kids?” Connie flicked through sites on her iPad whilst she spoke on the phone and began to worry that she might be the wrong person for this job. “But I can be there in about an hour… If you want me?”
“Do you not want to go?” Christine asked with concern. “I know I’ve been a bit baby crazy lately. I can ask them if you want.” she smiled sadly. “You probably have other things to do. I understand.”
“Yes, of course I want to come, I’m just worried it will be the blind leading the blind.” Connie chewed the edge of her finger. “It’s just, I don’t want you to miss getting something important or be responsible for you purchasing something that might be dangerous for baby.”
“You’re getting as bad as Tom you know that.” Christine laughed. “It’ll be fine. Besides, if I take Sarah she’s just going to tell me I don’t have to buy all this stuff because I can have hers. I want to buy all this stuff Connie, and you won’t stop me.” she smiled. “I’ll see you in an hour. Will give me time to figure out what to do with my damned hair. Maybe I’ll shave my head.” she grumbled pushing her hair back out of her face.
“You could shave it off, might make it easier to deal with later in the pregnancy and when babe is born. One less thing to worry about.” Connie tried not to wince at the thought of Christine without her hair. “Would be bold. And yes, I’ll see you in an hour, I need to find my decent shopping shoes, the ones won’t blister me after ten minutes.”
“Pretty sure Tom would throw the most epic fit.” Christine grumbled. “I’ll just braid it back.” she added. “Yes, blisters are no good. You should get yourself a pair of boots.” she smiled. “Always practical.”
“I’ll wear boots when you wear heels.” Connie retorted. “Now get ready or I’ll start calling you Tom when you’re late.”
“Fair enough.” Christine laughed. “See you in a bit.” she hung up and carefully pushed herself up off the couch. Walking up the stairs she stopped by the office and smiled as she scanned the empty room. “This will be all yours soon.” she said holding her belly. “I hope you’ll like it.” she smiled.
Connie spent most of the tube journey on her phone looking at various sites she never thought she’d go to. 10 Things Every Newborn Should Have, 25 Things You Think You Need (but don’t really), Which Baby Monitor is best for You?. It was a minefield.
When she came in view of the shop she was still none the wiser, except it seemed that ‘pink for girls and blue for boys’ was now the biggest no-no in baby rearing.
Christine waited for Connie outside the store, eyeing a pair of tiny converse sneakers in the window. As Connie walked up she smiled at her friend. “Hey. Don’t tell Tom but… I drove the new Jag.” she smirked. “He traded the F-Type for the XE, even let me choose the color.” she smiled pointing at the new midnight blue car on the corner.
“Wow.” Connie was almost speechless. “Now I know he’s taking this seriously. And believe me, my lips are sealed.”
She peered into the window at what Christine had been looking at. “Just furniture today or are there any other little things your tiny chap desires?”
“Buy whatever your beautiful heart desires darling.” Christine mocked Tom’s voice then laughed. “But he does ask that we not go too overboard. Mostly because I know he’s going to go overboard.” she laughed. “But wouldn’t he be adorable in these little shoes.” she said looking at the shoes again.
“Then adorable little shoes will be Master Hiddleston’s first gift from me.” Connie linked her arm into Christine’s and pulled her into the shop. “Can’t have just anyone buying him shoes, never know what rubbish he’ll end up wearing.”
“God he could have his father’s fashion sense. Be wearing the same clothes until I throw them away.” Christine laughed. “Oh my god… there it is!” Christine said with excitement. She unlinked from Connie and rushed to a nursery set. “What do you think? Is it perfect?” she asked. “It comes with the crib, changing table, closet, rocker and foot rest, a toy chest and the shelf.” she said looking over everything. “Very Asgardian right?”
Connie stopped short. “Ohhh, Christine, it’s lovely. It’ll go in there perfectly. With forest green and gold sheets and lampshade and a hint of a royal blue in maybe a rug or a throw, and the wardrobe can go on the wall by the window and…” She bit her lip. “But, you know, if you want. Not my decision.”
Christine laughed and linked arms with Connie again. “I brought you because I need your opinion. I value your input. You’re my Tom when he’s gone remember.” she smiled resting her head on her friends shoulder. “Now… do you think green with gold or gold with green.” she asked pulling Connie along as she made her way back towards the bedding.
“Thanks for the confidence.” Connie looked around at the multitude of choices. “I think green with gold would be easier to get hold of, I imagine there is not much call for gold in baby bedding.” She looked around at the selections on offer. “Though I think you’re going to struggle if you want anything other than beige, looking at this lot.”
“Ugh beige.” Christine grumbled. “Beige is not a color. Its a mess of too many colors but not quite enough. I hate beige.” She crinkled her nose and huffed. “Guess I’ll get the bedding somewhere else. I’ve got time.” She sighed.
“If we could find some baby safe material, I could have a go for you.” Connie picked up a pastel pink set with giraffes on and put it down again. “Because I don’t think you’re going to find anything close to what you want anywhere commercially.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe we’ll hit the fabric store sometime.” Christine wandered further into the store. “You think they’ll deliver the stuff?” She asked. “Assemble it and everything?”
“If you pay them enough, they’ll do everything bar have the baby for you.” Connie gave a laugh. “It’s either that or you and me and a screwdriver. And nobody wants that. Although it could be most amusing if you left it for Tom.”
“Oh he’d love to put it together. But I’m not sure I’d trust putting the baby in it.” She laughed. “Did you see the desk chair i let him assemble? It rocked when you sat in it. My dad secretly fixed it last time he visited.”
Connie opened her mouth to say something and then thought better of it. “Yeah… You’re going to be paying for someone.” She gave a laugh as she looked around the shop. “What else? Pram or pushchair, or are you going to try one of those sling things?”
“I’m not sure. Everyone says I should. They’re all on me to breastfeed too but…” she made a face and shook her head.
Connie nodded. “I know there is a lot of pressure, ‘breast is best’ and all that. But it’s your choice, do you have a reason why not ?”
“Not any legitimate ones.” Christine laughed. “Which is why I lose all my arguments. Sarah and her ‘mum friends’ mean well but sometimes they can be really pushy.” she shrugged.
Connie shuffled her feet. “And this is where my expertise runs out. I can tell you to ignore them or try to do your own thing, but they are the ones who have ‘been there, done that’. But to be honest if the baby is fed, warm, loved and safe, who’s business is it how you get there?”
“Thank you.” Christine said. “That’s what I’ve been saying. It’s nice to have someone on my side.” she smiled. “Tom refuses to take sides against Sarah. He’s chosen to not chose. I keep telling him that I’m his wife he has to side with me. It’s in the vows.” she laughed.
“Legally binding, must do as you say. I was there I can be your witness, again.” Connie laughed. “And if it wasn’t Sarah bringing things up now, you’d only have people pressuring you after the birth, at least this way you can have some arguments or statements ready for your reasoning when someone tries to get all high and mighty.”
“True.” Christine said with a smile as she picked up a tiny leather jacket. “This is so cute.” she put it back. “I know there are a bunch of people who are going to ‘know better than me’ but this isn’t their kid.” she smiled. “This is mine and Tom’s kid. We’ll probably royally mess some stuff up but… that’s what new parents do right?” she smiled.
“Exactly, your prerogative to muck up, and you probably will, but your little man will still love you.” Connie laughed as she picked up some trousers that would match the jacket. “And I think the first mistake will be only buying one of those wardrobes.”
“Agreed.” Christine said with a grin. “Imagine him and Tom both wearing their jackets together. Oh they’re going to be so cute!” she squeaked with a small wiggle as she picked the jacket back up. “He needs little vans… to match Tom’s.” she added. “I’m going to be the worst mum. Buying them both matching outfits and demanding they wear them together.” she laughed.
“Oh, if you’re like this for one, I can only imagine what it’d be like if you have more.” Connie laughed. “Buying the same outfit in increasingly larger sizes and each little Hiddle inheriting it down. You’ll be like the Beckhams.”
“I think that’s an adorable idea.” Christine laughed. “The Beckhams are something to strive for. They are all adorable. Though I doubt I’ll be able to influence their style for very long. This is Tom’s son after all. Going to be in the same clothes until he grows out of them; no matter how many new clothes I get him.”
“But you need to remember he’s your son too.” Connie tried to reassure her. “Just because he’s a boy, and Tom is, well very much a boy, doesn’t mean he will be a mini carbon copy. He will have some of your traits too, and he will have you as an influence growing up. He could be a mini you, and if you go on to have a girl, she may well end up being the mini Tom, rather than the other way around.”
“I know.” Christine smiled. “It’s just wishful thinking hoping he’s a mini Tom. A mini Tom I can handle. A mini me.” she grimaced. “I remember what I was like as a kid and I do not want that child.” she laughed.
“But you have the advantage that you know what to look for, what worked on you and what sent you running the other direction.” Connie gave a smile. “And Tom knows how to handle you too. You’d be surprised, I know you don’t like mentioning them, but you are not your parents, you will not muck this up.”
Christine hugged her friend tightly as she fought back tears. “Thanks Connie. My voice of reason.” she said. Stepping away she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Sorry… emotions are all…” she wiggled her fingers as if that explained everything. “Shoes?” she asked looking at the outfit in their hands.
Connie sniffed back her own waterworks, she couldn’t help be affected when someone else got emotional. “Shoes? I’m guessing as they wont be walking for at least the first year, anything that looks pretty and not too heavy on their feet for crawling.” She spun slowly around the little clothes section and spotted a couple of pairs of likely shoes. “Little black boots or neon bright trainers?”
“Oh gawd don’t make me choose….” Christine grumbled. “Both.” she laughed. “This kid is going to have so many clothes and I just know that he’s going to be running around in just diapers.” she laughed.
“Then we will know he’s Tom’s son.” Connie laughed too as she added the shoes to the growing pile of things. “Anything else you’re going to need immediately?”
“Immediately?” Christine asked herself aloud as she thought. “Diapers, bottles, formula, onesies, adorable little hats… stroller…” she listed off. “Tom doesn’t want me to buy toys until he gets back. Like I can’t find something fun.” she grumbled. “All I really need at the moment is the nursery set… and these.” she smiled looking down at the growing pile of clothes in her hands. “And to decide on a damned name.”
“How did he take to Theo? I thought you were convinced on that one?” Connie pointed to the ordering point where a bored sales clerk stood against the desk. “I’m afraid to say for the boring stuff you’re probably going to have to face one of those baby superstore places.”
“I love Theo and I think he does to but now he’s convinced that he needs to see the baby before he can make a final decision.” she rolled her eyes. “I’m calling him Theo.” she said looking at her stomach. “Tom will just have to get used to it.” she laughed as they walked towards the counter.
“And that my darling Theo,” Connie directed her voice towards Christine’s stomach, “is the sound of your mother putting her foot down. So unless you have some mysterious superpower that your father has yet to find; you had better get used to letting her have her way.”
“Oh Tom’s got a super power.” Christine laughed. “It just doesn’t work when he’s away.” she said wiggling her eyebrows slightly.
“Can I help you ladies?” The woman behind the counter asked perking up a little.
“Yes, I need that nursery set please.” Christine said pointing at the set she wanted. “Do you deliver and install?” she asked.
“We can deliver, it’s extra but we don’t do install. Liability issues.” the woman replied with a grimace.
“Oh… well… maybe we could… and Patrick could help?” Christine said looking at Connie.
“It can’t be that difficult, can it?” Connie nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to help and between the three of us we could manage it.”
She glanced back over at the nursery set, it looked solid and only a few pieces, surely it must be easy? Patrick could do the heavy lifting that Christine wouldn’t be able to manage and Connie and her two left feet could sit and read the instructions.
“Awesome. We’ll take it then.” Christine said turning back to the clerk.
“That’s great. When are you two due?” The woman asked implying a relationship between Connie and Christine. “Oh… no my husband is in Hawaii.” she laughed. “Connie here is my best friend.” she said smiling at Connie.
“Yeah, best friend, that’s me. Nothing more, this is all very much her husband’s doing, nothing to do with me.” Connie flushed as she turned away from the clerk as she began to select all the different parts of the set onto a delivery order, and tried to look around the shop as innocently as she could. “Has that been my issue all these years?” She muttered under her breath at Christine. “I look better in a lesbian couple than I do with a man?”
“No.” Christine laughed. “I got it with Riley too. I think it’s me. I’m too edgy. They automatically assume artsy lesbian.” she smiled. “Not you, promise.”
“Well that’s one thing less to blame it on.” Connie linked her arm through Christine’s. “Though of all ladies I know, you’d probably make it onto my list of to dos. Got to try everything once…” She half laughed before it died quickly. “Though ‘different participants might give different results’ is a phrase of Patrick’s I have to try to remember.”
Christine laughed. “Well I’m flattered and Patrick is very right. Thought I promise not to disappoint.” she said leaning in close and laughing.
“How are you paying for this?” the clerk asked bringing their attention back.
“Oh, here.” Christine said pulling out Tom’s credit card. “Getting used to using this.” she said to Connie.
“As Tom says it is both of your money now and it’s going on something that is very much a joint project.” Connie gave a smile. “You’re buying lunch as well? I’m kidding… unless you want to.”
“You get your big strong man to come put together my furniture and I’ll buy lunch and dinner.” Christine replied. “Only fair for putting you both to work.” she smiled.
“Done.” Connie gave a laugh as she pulled out her phone as Christine went about the business of paying.
Connie: Christine needs your body…
Patrick: Knew it was only a matter of time.
Connie: You’ll get hot and sweaty…
Patrick: You’re teasing aren’t you? What are you two plotting?
Connie: Nursery furniture assembly. You can do?
Patrick: I guess I can do.
“Alright, they’re going to deliver today around 3.” Christine said turning back to Connie. “What shall we do until then?” she asked.
“More shopping?” Connie rubbed her hands together before adding a little more defeatedly. “Although do you need to make space in the office slash nursery for all the furniture, or have you already cleared it out?”
“Tom cleared it out before he left.” Christine smiled. “We’re free to do as much shopping as we want.”
“Whoo hoo.” Connie gave a little cheer. “Shall we see if we can find a stroller and a car seat or do you want to look at more clothes?”
“I’m just going to say yes.” Christine laughed. “I know that I’m going to go overboard but… I don’t care. I’m nesting.”
“There’s another couple of baby shops up the street.” Connie pointed the way. “You have to remember that this little man is coming into the world with nothing. Not even a shirt on his back, so he’s going to need those cute onesie things, for a start, and you’re going to need a cute new bag to carry all his crap around for him, and the stroller to carry him around… Who knew all this stuff was so cute?”
“I was looking at a unisex backpack online so that I can get Tom to carry the stuff. He says he refuses to carry around anything to girlie.” she laughed. “But definitely need a stroller. Something that breaks down easily.”
“Something that fits in the back of that tiny boot of the Jag?” Connie mused. “All the things I’ve seen are made up of lots of different parts, if they come apart easy enough, you should be alright but a lot of them look heavy and bulky too. I suppose you have to work on finding something that you can manage on your own.”
“Tom got the new Jag remember. Lots of trunk space now.” Christine reminded her as they walked. “We’ve got time to shop around. Not going to buy something unless I absolutely love it.” she smiled. “So Patrick’s ok with helping tonight?” she asked.
“I’ll make it up to him.” Connie smiled. “And you’re at least being a little bit sensible, you’ve still got loads of time before he arrives, better to have something perfect than to panic.”
“Oh speaking of panic… Sarah and Emma are demanding that I have a shower.” Christine grimaced. “I don’t want to but… they say I have to.” she looked at Connie for support. “Do I have to?”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do… However you may end up with a ‘surprise’ one anyway if you do try to say no. But they are a nice opportunity for people to give you gifts before he arrives and life turns upside down…” Connie thought for a moment. “Would you, if you want of course, would you like me to organise something? I could make it classy, we could go for afternoon tea or something, avoid the clichéd ‘taste the baby food’ games?”
“Oh my god that would be such a life saver.” Christine said hugging Connie instantly. “Only if you have time. I don’t want to be anymore of a burden than I already am.” She said pulling away and looking at her with concern. “I know I’m asking a lot of you and Patrick lately and I hate having to, you know that, but Tom is on my ass about doing things that I shouldn’t do and I really don’t want him to fly back again just because I did something stupid.”
“Then we will continue to help you in any and every way we can.” Connie assured her. “And not because angry and petulant Tom is a sight I don’t enjoy seeing, but because you are our friend. I’m flaky and he’s inappropriate, at the best of times, but we don’t want you to think that you are doing this on your own. You are a strong woman and we know you want to be the best you can be but even you can’t do everything.” Connie tried to be practical without getting too philosophical. “It’s only in the past thirty years or so that woman have been expected to be perfect mothers, before that families and communities would come together to raise a child collectively. This is no different, your own family is small, so you make a family around your child. If we can be part of that, then the honour is ours.”
Christine felt tears welling in her eyes and she hugged Connie again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She whispered before pulling away and running her fingers under her eyes as an attempt to fix any streaks. “Ugh, hormones. Anyone gets the slightest bit deep with me and just waterworks.” She laughed. “Sent Tom his daily photo last night and he told me how beautiful I was and I cried for an hour. It’s ridiculous.”
Connie gave her a hug back. “You are more than welcome to cry all you want. Makes a change that’s not me.” She looked around and tried to see if there was anything she could distract Christine with. “Oh look, strollers!”
“Strollers. Yes.” Christine said walking towards the section. “I want something small but durable.” she said looking them over. “And it’s got to be tall enough that Tom doesn’t have to hunch over to push it.”
“This one is adjustable.” Connie wiggled at the handles of a bright pink one. “Though it only comes in this awful colour. Oh and that one comes with coordinating car seat and bag. But that one is much more streamlined. This is far too much like a hard decision.”
“Sarah told me buying a stroller is worse than buying a car. All the different optional features and colors and makes.” Christine said pushing a black one a few inches before shaking her head. “I can see now what she meant. This one converts as the baby grows. Has a removable carseat section, plus a holder underneath for the bag.” She said looking over another one. “Maybe I should let Tom pick it… he’s so much better at weighing features and design. I go for what looks pretty.”
“Oh no, are we doing that ‘it’s got wheels it must be a man’s domain’ thing?” Connie chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “But then how many of these things are essential and how many are superfluous?” She pulled on the handle of one. “Do you really need this many adjustments on it? You might have to borrow a baby before yours arrives at this rate.”
“You’re right. It’s a stroller. How many features does it really need.” Christine said looking around at another one. “I just want the best, ya know. I need to do this right.” She added. “But buying the most expensive stroller isn’t going to make me a good mother.” She said more to herself than Connie.
“No it’s not.” Connie said quietly as she pushed some of the strollers out of the way and made her way back to Christine. “Making sure your little one is safe and secure will make you a good mother. And not worrying about coordinating bags and cup holders will make you an even better one. I’m probably a bad person to bring out for something like this. We need someone a little more practical. I hate to say it, maybe go with Sarah next time?”
Christine sighed and nodded. “I hate shopping with Sarah.” she grumbled. “I love Sarah I do. She’s a sister to me. But as a sister she’s… well she’s pushy.” she laughed. “She knows best and I’m an idiot.” she rolled her eyes as she walked away towards the bags. “Tom is used to being critiqued for every life decision I’m not. This is my baby… not hers. I want to do what I want. Is that so wrong?”
“Not at all. Like I said, I didn’t want to suggest her but she has done this before.” Connie shrugged sorrily.
Patrick: Finished in the office, have to do some calls tonight though, damn time zones. Just heading back home but had a thought, Boots will need to come with us to Christine’s. Will cats cope?
She glanced at the phone and then back at Christine. “We’re forgetting. There is someone else who is practical and has been through this before. Patrick.”
“He wouldn’t want to come shopping with us.” Christine said. “I hate wasting his time as it is.” she smirked. “He has much better stuff to do than deal with a crazy pregnant lady that he has no ties to.”
“He won’t want to come shopping, but maybe he can help you cross anything unnecessary off the list?” Connie bit her lip as she looked over the array of strollers again. “Maybe just bring it up when he’s building later? He might be able to recommend something without being all ‘mother knows best’ pushy?”
Christine nodded with a forced smile. “I really hate being so… needy.” she sighed. “I’m not even huge yet and I can’t do anything on my own.” she threw her arms up. “What am I going to do when I’m the size of a fucking house?”
“Lie on a chaise and order the rest of us to feed you grapes?” Connie tried to make light of Christine’s insecurity. “Seriously though, you need to be aware of what you are doing on your own out of necessity, what you are doing on your own out of choice and what you are doing on your own out of stubbornness. Let’s be honest, you and I would struggle with flat pack furniture when you’re not pregnant. Not taking advice is one of those stubbornness things: listen to it all *then* make your own choices. You said yourself, you need to make your own mistakes but maybe there would be a few less if you just heard all the variables.”
“You’re right.” Christine sighed. “You’re always right.” she smiled at her friend. “Do you think I could get Patrick in one of those loin clothes like in the movies?” she asked perking up a little. “Ben could be a fan boy… but where do you find such large palm leaves this time of year?” she asked herself putting her finger on her chin comically. “Tom would of course be rubbing my feet. Really no other place for him.”
Connie squinted as the mental image flashed across her mind. “Damn you woman…” She swiped gently at Christine’s shoulder, glad that the melancholy had passed, at least temporarily. “Empress and her slave boys, now there is a scenario I will not be losing for a while. Mmmmm.” She shook herself before it became embarrassing. “What time is it?”
“Nearly 3… we should head back to the house. Is Patrick going to meet us there?” she asked heading back towards the door.
“I said I’d let him know when we were heading back so that he wasn’t hanging around.” Connie followed on behind her friend. “I can send him a message now and then we should all get to yours about the same time.” She remembered the other part of Patrick’s earlier message. “However, as we’re still training Boots, is it going to be alright if he brings him along? Can’t leave the poor thing alone for too long at the moment.”
“That’s fine. The boys are alright with dogs and a puppy would keep Loki on his toes.” Christine chuckled. Walking back to the car they passed through a large group of girls walkingbthe opposite direction.
“Hey, Christine right?” One said as they walked. Christine stopped slightoy and looked at her.
“Yes?” She replied with confusion. The rest of the group stopped and gawked for a minute.
“Christine Hiddleston?” Christine felt her stomach flip flop. She knew Tom hadnt official released her pregnancy yet.
“Oh my god its true! You are pregnant!” Another girl shrieked with excitement.
“Boy or girl?”
“How far along are you?”
“Is that why you rushed the wedding?”
“Can I touch it?”
“Is Tom here?”
Suddenly Connie and Christine were surrounded by the girls rambling off questions to quick for either of them to answer.
“Sor-sorry we’ve got to go.” Christine said trying to be polite as she forced her way out of the circle. The young girls parted but Christine was still shaken, walking too quickly to get away. Stepping down off the curb she felt a twist and automatically froze midstep.
“Are you alright?” One of the young girls asked.
“Fine.” Christine smiled ar her and watched the girls walk away, texting on their phones about their new discovery. Motioning Connie closer Christine grimaced in pain. “I’m not fine.” She whispered to her friend.
Connie gripped onto Christine’s arm both as casually yet as supportive as she could. “Let’s get you to the car. You’ll have to come in mine and we’ll have to leave the Jag here. Not the same bloody foot is it?”
“Same foot.” Christine grimaced as she tried not to put weight on it. “Don’t tell Tom alright? He’s nearly done with shooting and I don’t need him worrying about me.”
“I won’t.” Connie took as much weight off Christine as she could. “You can just rest up for a few days and you’ll be fine; Tom will be none the wiser.” She hoped she was right, with only a basic first aid qualification there was very little she could do without examining it and getting ice in it, and neither would be possible from either a practical or a PR standpoint. “The car’s not far now, you can do this.”
A few more agonizing steps and Christine was at the car. Sitting in the passenger seat she picked up the leg of her pants and grumbled. “Its worse this time Connie… maybe I should go see someone about it. Get it wrapped properly.” she winched as she attempted to move it. “Tom’s going to kill me.” she mumbled in pain.
“Let’s get you to A&E. Furniture can wait.” Connie smiled as sympathetically as she could. “I guess you will be on that couch with the grapes for a while yet then.” She gave the smallest chuckle before getting them on the road to the nearest hospital.
“Could Patrick be at the house to accept the furniture?” she asked. “There’s a key under the pot beside the door.” she added. “I just don’t want to miss the delivery, if they don’t get it today then I have to wait three weeks.”
“Of course.” Connie sent Patrick a message bringing him up to speed whilst they sat at the lights, adding an extra warning about watching for escaping cats. “We’re not too far from the hospital now, are you sure you don’t want me to contact Tom?”
“No.” Christine said shaking her head. “He’ll worry and leave set and I’m fine.” she shifted and groaned. “Probably just twisted again. Will heal before he even gets home.”
Connie pulled into the hospital and looked worriedly at her friend. “You head in, get yourself checked in and I’ll go park the car. Then I’ll be back in and see what the queue is like. Hopefully we’ll make it back to yours before Patrick has completely rearranged your house.”
“He can rearrange it.” Christine said pushing herself gently out of the car. “Need to freshen it up every once in a while.” she groaned. “Maybe he can find the billions of cat toys the boys have scattered about.” she chuckled before shutting the door and walking inside.
“We can do this, can’t we chap?” Patrick pulled on the puppy’s leash and Boots hopped out of the car. “Let’s go meet these cats shall we?” Patrick reached for the hidden key and took a deep breath as he turned it in the lock. There was a yowl from inside and the dog began to bark, Patrick rolled his eyes to the sky. “Shit. If your leg’s not broken Christine, I will kill you.”
The two cats sat staring them down as they entered. Boots padded over and began to sniff at Murdock who backed away slightly. Loki gave a yawn and gave his paws a lick at which Boots looked confused and sat down in front of the cat to watch.
Patrick shook his head in confusion as the doorbell behind him rang. “Right which one of you three is going to hold the screwdriver?” All three animals just looked at him as he went to let the delivery men in.
“Broken.” Christine huffed as she made her way towards the car, still working out how to walk on the crutches the nurse had insisted she use. “Just peachy.” she grumbled. “We’re still not telling Tom. He’ll shit a whole house.” she said pointing at Connie. “A brick house.”
“Lips are sealed.” Connie held open the door and offered to take the crutches off Christine as she climbed in. “Only because I know he will blame me for being the one who let it happen. I was meant to be looking after you and I’m the one who’s failed.”
“That’s bullshit Connie.” Christine grumbled. “You can’t protect me from my own clumsiness.” she handed her the crutches and moved to sit properly in the seat. “You take care of me well enough. You can’t walk for me.” she laughed.
“I will hold you to that statement when Tom is on the warpath.” Connie laughed along too, but did begin to worry what Tom would actually say. “But let’s worry about that another day. Let’s get you home and that foot up.”
Patrick sat with two almost identical pieces of wood on his lap as he peered at the instructions in front of him. He wasn’t going to admit he needed glasses but why did that A look very much like a 4?
As he contemplated it, he heard the sound of tires approaching on the driveway. His small audience of three jumped up at the noise, the cats leading the way and a slightly reluctant Dalmatian torn between following his new friends or watching his master make a fool of himself.
Walking into the house Christine stooped to pet the quickly approaching animals. “Hey kids…” she smiled running her fingers over each in turn. “Honey, we’re home.” she called out with a grin as she hobbled towards the sofa.
“Thank god!” Patrick came running down the stairs. “How is it? Just a sprain?”
Connie looked up at him and shook her head.
“Not broken again? Shit.” He skittered over the floor towards them. “Right, sit down then missus. Tea, coffee, juice? I’m halfway through the cot but I can stop, get you some food or something.”
“Calm down Patrick, you’re worse than Tom.” Connie chastised as she helped Christine towards the couch.
“I’m fine Patrick.” Christine smiled. “More painful than I remember but… then last time I could take drugs.” she shrugged. Wincing as she sat on the sofa and put her foot up on the coffee table. “You didn’t have to put it together by yourself. It can wait. But I appreciate you being here to get it.” she smiled at him.
“Least I could do, and now I’ve started I have to finish it. Can’t leave a job half done.” Patrick smiled. “The cot’s the most awkward because of the moving side.”
“Don’t try and stop him Christine, he’s a stubborn bastard when he gets something into his head.” Connie headed towards the kitchen. “I can do tea.”
“I can help read instructions.” Christine said pushimg herself up off the couch again. “Have to get upstsirs sometime unless I’m sleeping on the sofa again.” She winced. “Might as well do it when I’ve got help here right?”
“I need all the help I can get with those instructions, I swear the writing is getting smaller.” Patrick held out his hands to help her up. “Come on then, you can lean on me or I can throw you over my shoulder.” He gave a laugh. “Choice is yours.”
“As tempting as the offer sounds I’m afraid my shoulder tossing days may be put on hold for a bit.” She said looking at her belly. “Unless you like being puked on.” She laughed, Allowing Patrick to help her up the stairs she used the banister and his shoulder taking each step slowly. “Maybe it’s time to get some glasses Patrick. You’d look handsome is specs.” She smiled at him.
Patrick gave a half smile back. “I think I just don’t want to admit it. I look too much like my father as it is, add glasses to the mix and I might as well retire now.”
He led her through to the half-filled nursery and towards the one thing he actually had finished building, the rocking chair.
“All men look good in glasses. And your dads a handsome, you’d be lucky to look like him.” She smiled. “This is amazing Patrick. You are the best.” She said as tested out the rocker.
He gave a little blush before settling himself back down on the floor. “Go easy on it, just in case I haven’t done it properly, don’t really want you breaking the other ankle too.” Reaching for the instruction booklet he passed it over to Christine. “Here, tell me if I’m slotting this piece into A or 4.”
