A/N: This chapter carries a warning for language and scenes of a sexual nature - the M level is ramped up a bit!

Some old. Some new. All Chelsie.

Chapter 14

5th July 2003

Leaning forward in the bath tub Esie gripped hold of her ankles and let out a long, low groan of pain. The water around her was cooling and the brief respite it had offered was gradually disappearing.

"How are you doing?" Charles asked.

"Don't ask such inane questions, please," she gasped, one hand reaching to grip the side of the bath as she bit down on her lip. "Oh fuck. I'd almost… almost… forgotten how bloody awful this is."

"It's worth it though… in the end, or so you told me last time." Charles knelt down beside the bath and felt the temperature of the water with his hand. "Do you want me to add some more hot water?"

"Yes," she breathed deeply again, leaning her head back. "Please." The contraction began to ease off and she looked at him, his concerned expression, ruffled hair - she'd gone to bed feeling odd the previous night, then woke him at 2:30 when her waters broke. It was mid-afternoon now and they were still at it. "Can you help me sit back?"

Charles helped ease her back into a more comfortable position. "Better?"

"As much as it can be." She gazed down at her stomach, running her palm over the stretched skin. "Gonna leave scars this time I feel."

"You'll still be bloody gorgeous! Scars or no scars."

"Now's not the time for flattery," she pushed herself up again, "I need to turn, Charles," she said grasping his hand. "Help me."

"It's not flattery. It's the truth," he said, helping her onto her hands and knees.

The movement was awkward and decidedly unflattering, but the relief the water brought when it surrounded her stomach was wonderful. She pressed her hands against the base of the bath and rested her forehead against the tiled wall, closing her eyes and groaning in pleasure. She was aware her bottom was stuck up in the air, but right at that moment, she couldn't give a toss what she looked like.

"Have you had any more ideas about names?"

"None." She licked her lips; what she wouldn't give for a glass of wine. "Rub my lower back, will you?"

Charles placed his hand on her back and began rubbing soothing circles, pressing lightly. "I can't remember the last time I touched you like this."

"About nine months ago, I think," she quipped, pushing back against his fingers.

"Not quite," Charles corrected. "I seem to recall a very passionate Valentine's Day…"

"Ha, as usual," she moaned as another contraction started up. "We got rid of Mae for the night."

"I took you to Delrio's for a delicious meal and when we got home you pounced on me before we even got in the door."

"Pregnancy hormones," she assured him. "We had sex on the kitchen table. You still had your trousers on."

"Your skirt was round your waist."

She laughed, despite the growing pain. "I can't even get that skirt on now."

"You will. Give it a few months."

"Don't hold out your hopes on that one."

"You re-gained your figure pretty quickly after Mae."

"I was younger then, thing were still elasticated. Apparently it's harder after the second one."

"Well, like I said before, you'll still be gorgeous." He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

"Charles…" she said gently.

"What is it?"

"I do love you, you know that, don't you?"

He gave her a questioning look. "Of course I do."

"I'm sorry."

"That's a silly sorry."

"I am silly, I'm horrid to you." She pushed herself to her knees, reaching for his hand until he helped her up and she could lean back.

Charles shook his head. "You're not. Yes, we argue at times, but that's normal."

"I was horrid at the start of this, screaming at you in the kitchen." she gasped, squeezing his hand, her head flopping to the side to rest against his arm where it supported her around her shoulders.

"You were scared, worried. It's over now. Don't let's dredge it all up." He brought his other hand around to stroke her hair.

"I'm still scared… terrified."

"Oh sweetheart. Of what?"

"Doing this, having another one."

Charles suddenly became very aware of how he'd cajoled and persuaded her in those first few months and he felt ashamed. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you, shouldn't have pushed you into this.

"Oh God, don't say that Charles. I need you to be the strong, certain one."

"I am certain. I know that you'll be a great mother and that this baby will bring us joy. But I shouldn't have chivvied and bullied you when, if I'd had any sensitivity at all...

"Stop," she gasped, almost frantically. "Ohhhh I need to get out, I think it's coming."

Charles helped her up, wrapping her in a towel. "I'll get the midwife."

"Alright Elsie, now you've done this before…"

"Give me the drugs." She demanded, writhing on the bed, "last time I tried to cope, this time just pump me full of them." She held out her arm.

"It's too late for that I'm afraid. This baby is coming now. And quickly, too, by the look of things."

"We've waited all bloody day!" Elsie snapped, throwing herself back on the pillows.

"Well, it seems she's impatient now."

"She's certainly keeping us on our toes," Charles commented.

"Just like her father then," sighed Elsie. "I hope that's not a sign of her future character."

"Now, now, love." He moved to stand beside her, kissing her head and easing an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh God, she's coming right now." Elsie suddenly exclaimed.

"Yes, Elsie, we'll get you ready." The midwife said, still scribbling on her notes.

"Now. Not get ready. Right. Now!" She scrunched her hand in Charles'. "She's here now," she said panicking, "I can feel it."

"Stay calm love," Charles whispered. "It'll be alright."

"No it won't," she shifted her bottom on the bed, kicking off the sheets.

"Okay Elsie," the midwife said. "Push."

"Make sure she's okay, Charles, don't let her get hurt…"

"She'll be fine, Els."

"You need to push Elsie," the midwife urged.

"You don't need to tell me to fucking push, she's coming!"

"Els, come on. You can do this," Charles encouraged.

"Shut up! Just shut up, for god's sake."

Charles tried to remember that Elsie was in pain, that she was worried, but her words still hurt. He was only trying to help. He let go of her hand, moving down towards the base of the bed in order to follow Elsie's instructions and to give her some space.

"Don't leave," she said suddenly, holding her hand out to him, "Help me, Charles, help."

He took her hand and moved beside her, wrapping his arm around her, "I'll always be here. I promise darling." He kissed her head; he could do nothing more than be there as she gave birth to their second child.

"Love is something you don't ask for," Elsie said later, cradling the tiny, fair bundle in her arms. She was tucked up in bed; clean, fresh, a pile of pillows behind her. Charles was moving about the room, putting things in place how he thought Elsie would like them. He stopped when she spoke, they'd been silent for so long now, letting Lily sleep after her hour long cries.

"What do you mean?"

"You can ask for passion, desire, sex. All that stuff. You find someone attractive, you want someone to touch you, bring you to life over and over again." She lifted Lily's tiny hand, resting her fingers along the edge of her hand. "But you don't ask for love. Why would you? It's so all-consuming, it changes everything. It's scary and messy. Difficult. You can't be free of it. And still, there it is. Here it is."

Charles put down the nappy bag he'd been holding, moving silently to the chair by the bed. "And, you don't want that? This?"

"That's not what I said." She didn't take her eyes from Lily's face. "I didn't ask for love. But then, who does?"

"I did."

Now she looked at him.

"When I first met you, I hoped one day you'd love me. When I realised I was falling for you, I hoped that in time you might find similar feelings for me…" He allowed himself an impish grin. "Even if it was just a tiny amount."

"Oh Charles, much more than a tiny amount." She held out one hand to touch him. "Overwhelmingly so, at the start I wasn't quite sure what to do with the feelings." She looked back to her daughter, only a few hours old, "Just like the first time I held Mae, and felt terrified of what I felt for her. I'm not terrified of it now," she pressed a kiss to Lily's head. "Kind of odd isn't it, how something you didn't have before is suddenly here and you find your heart blossoms in a whole new direction? I was so scared of this, of being a mother again." She rocked Lily in her arms. "And now she's here and it couldn't be more perfect."

"You're perfect," he replied, moving to perch on the bed next to her. "And Mae-Bae and this little one. All three of you. My perfect girls."

"I can't wait to take her home," she said, gazing at her daughter's face. "Into her room, our building-site of a home, but her little room with her yellow walls and blue ceiling and all those teddies Mae's piled in the corner for her.

"I wonder what Mae'll make of her, now she's here?" Charles pondered.

"We'll find out soon enough," Elsie replied. "What time did your mother say they'd be here?"

Charles looked at his watch. "Any time now."

"Go and see if they're here," Elsie implored. "I've missed her and she needs to meet her sister."

Charles made his way out to the corridor, finding his father with Mae in his arms and his mother with arms full of flowers and a balloon. He smiled gratefully, exhausted but deliriously happy, and when Mae held out her arms and practically jumped into his he felt himself sniffle and tears spill down his cheeks as he held her.

It was all he'd ever wanted - a family with Elsie Hughes.

"Hi Princess," he whispered into her hair. "Daddy's missed you."

"Missed you Daddy," she responded, confused by his emotional response. She plonked her hands on his head, "Your hair's all fluffy." She giggled.

Charles smiled at his youngest daughter. "I suppose it is a little."

"Can I see my Mummy now?" Mae asked, jerking her chin up as she peered over Charles' shoulder to the frosted glass of Elsie's door.

"Of course you can. And your baby sister."

Mae scrunched her nose up, "Daddy," she whispered, then leant in closer to him, cupping her tiny hand around his ear, "I brought the baby my special rabbit, because Granny says she might have to stay here for another night and if Mummy comes home now with us then baby will be scared. Won't she?"

Charles' heart melted at Mae's words; such a kind, compassionate soul - she was all her mother. "What a lovely thing to do. You're already such a good big sister." Mae beamed at the praise from her father. "We need to wait and see what the doctor says about whether Mummy and the baby can come home tonight, okay?" Mae nodded. "But we can go and see them now."

"We'll give you all some time," Edward said, "Go get a cup of tea and come back in half hour or so?"

"That'd be great Dad, thanks."

He put Mae down and Angela handed across the giant Minnie Mouse balloon to her. "There you go sweetheart, the one you picked for your sister. Hold it tight."

When she straightened up she handed the flowers to Charles, smiling tearfully at him, keenly aware of the happiness he was exuding, "There you go son."

"Thanks."

Unexpectedly she leant into him, grasping him tightly and hugging him, "We're so proud of you both." She said quickly, kissing his cheek. "And Mae can stay any time, she's been a little angel."

"Certainly lit up our quiet house," Edward agreed, taking his wife's hand. "Now, go on, we'll see you later. Have you called Elsie's parents?"

"Shit, no." Charles ruffled his hair for the hundredth time that day.

"Don't worry, I have the number," Angela offered, "I'll do it, I'll tell them Elsie will call when she gets home."

"Thanks, yeah," he felt Mae tugging on his trouser leg.

"Daddy, come on."

He turned and took hold of her hand. "Okay. You ready?"

"Yessssss….." she said in a sing-song voice, the toe of her pink shoes banging against the metal frame at the bottom of the door.

"You've got to be quiet in there," he told her. "And no jumping on Mummy - she's still a little sore, okay?"

"Okay, okay. That's cos she's pushed a baby out of her tummy, silly."

"Yes, quite," Charles said unsure how to reply to that; Mae was too smart for her own good sometimes.

"Mummy told me…" She dashed under Charles' arm as he finally opened the door, running towards Elsie's bed excitedly, "Mummy! Mummy! I missed you." She jumped to her tiptoes waving the balloon then stopped when she noted the white bundle resting in Elsie's arms.

Elsie watched as Mae took in the sight; the initial excitement upon seeing her mother again (they'd never spent a night apart until Elsie went into labour) and then the shock of the other being nestling in Mae's usual cuddle spot. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open and then abruptly closed as she bit down hard on her lip mulling it over, just as Elsie herself might.

"Are you alright honey?" Elsie said gently.

"Istha…" she stumbled over her words, pointing to the baby. "Is that our baby Mummy?"

"Yes. Do you want your Dad to lift you up here so you can see properly?"

Charles put the flowers down on a table and bent slightly to scoop his daughter up.

"Noo," she protested, pushing his hands away - she was becoming fiercely independent. She plodded closer to the head of the bed, noted the chair by Elsie's side, and clambered onto it. Charles placed his hand on the back of it, holding it steady and smiling at Elsie over the top of Mae's head.

Mae's boots bumped against the back of the chair as she turned, her hands on her knees as she leant forward and squinted at the baby's face.

"Like a flower," she finally said.

"A… a flower?" Elsie asked, frowning.

"Yes, see." She pointed her finger forward, pushing gently on her nose, "this is the miggle bit." The baby opened her eyes and blinked up at her sister. "Blue eyes, like Mae. And like my mummy."

"I'm her mummy too, sweetheart."

Mae pondered that before pointing at the baby's cheeks, "Big petals. I can draw flowers."

"I know you can," Elsie smiled.

"Pretty good ones too," Charles said, his hands resting gently now on Mae's waist to stop her from falling.

"Like the flowers Granny brung."

"Brought," Charles corrected.

"They is lilies."

"Are lilies," he corrected again.

"And she's Lily," Mae said confidently.

"Lily…" Charles pondered. They'd talked about names, but hadn't agreed on any, wanting to meet her before making a decision. "It's a nice name," he said, looking over Mae's head at Elsie.

"A beautiful name," Elsie agreed. "Do you like that?" She asked the baby, tilting her up slightly, "Do you think that makes a suitable name for you? What do you think Mae?"

Mae hooked her thumb around the baby's fingers, watching as they flexed around her own. "Tiny nails." She observed.

"Tiny everything." Charles noted, patting his daughter's head, "just like you used to be."

"Mummy told me how, Daddy."

"How what?"

"That you put baby in mummy's tummy."

Charles blushed, "Oh?"

"And now baby comes to our house." She pushed on Elsie's arm, "can I have a cuddle now mummy?"

"We didn't go into finer details," Elsie said to her husband. "Hold Lily for a while?"

"As if you have to ask," Charles said, reaching out and taking his new daughter from her mother.

"Now then, my little precious angel," she held her arms open so Mae could climb onto the bed beside her and cuddle up against her. "Oh, I missed you." She said kissing her head repeatedly. "My beautiful girl."

"I was brave Mummy, like you saided to me. Granny got a big bed with posts on it and I jumped on it and it wobbled and I bounced on my bottom." She giggled.

"And what did you have for breakfast?" She asked, holding Mae's hand in hers.

"Pancakes and Nutella."

Charles rolled his eyes, "Way to start the day."

"And then Grandad let me have Happy Meal for dinner and I gotted a lickle Chuckie doll?"

"A what doll?" Charles asked concerned as he walked the room rocking Lily back to sleep.

"It's from the Rugrats film," Elsie assured him. "What did you have in your Happy Meal?"

"Chicken nuggets and strawberry milkshake and grapes."

"You eat it all up?"

"I left two nuggets, Mummy." She said sheepishly. "Can you make me spaghetti for tea?"

"We don't know if Mummy will be home for tea tonight, remember?" Charles said gently. "We need to wait for the doctor to say it's okay for her to come home. But I can do it for you if not."

Mae pouted, "But I wants my Mummy to come home," she looked up imploringly at Elsie.

Elsie understood exactly how she felt; as preoccupied as she'd been all night - and day - there was something physically painful about having to leave her daughter with someone other than Charles. A desperate need to make sure she was safe, taken care of, treated as Elsie wanted her to be treated.

"We can only wait and see, baby, but mummy will need a few days to recover and Lily is going to need looking after so you remember how mummy said you have to be a big girl and help us with the baby?"

Mae nodded, getting to her knees at the side of Elsie. "I brung Flopsy Jopsy for Lily to keep her safe." She said, pulling the rabbit from the pocket of her trousers.

"Oh that's very sweet, she's your absolute favourite, are you quite sure you're going to be able to sleep without Flopsy Jopsy?"

Mae bit her lip again - she hadn't thought of that part. She looked helplessly to where Charles stood by the window, "Daddy…"

Charles turned. "Yes sweetheart?"

"Can I sleep without Flopsy?" Her lip trembled at the thought.

"I'm sure you can, but if not you can always crawl in with me for a cuddle. How does that sound?"

She nodded vigorously. "I will give her then."

Charles moved back to the bed, to the side of where Mae was knelt. "She's going to sleep."

Mae stared at her sister, "Lickle baby," she said, then looked up at her father until he nodded his permission and she bent to kiss the baby's forehead. "Here Lily," she said, popping the rabbit on top of the baby's stomach, "look after my Flopsy Jopsy."

Charles felt Elsie's hand reach for his and squeeze the ends of his fingers. "You were right," she said softly.

"About?"

"This. Our family."

She watched as Mae jumped down from the bed and scampered towards the window, looking out at the view. "We is high up." She said.

"We are high up," Charles corrected, and he laid Lily down in the cot beside Elsie's bed before leaning over his wife and kissing her tenderly.

"I do love you," she said by his ear.

He smiled. "And I love you too."

"Not as much as you love me!" Mae said grandly, twirling round before the window.

"Well, of course not, how could that even be possible?" Charles scooped her up, twirling her around in the air. "We love you and Lily more than anything."

"A 100?" Mae asked delighted to be in her father's strong arms - he always gave the best swings.

"More than a hundred."

Mae was confused, to her there was no bigger number than one hundred. Charles had started her counting as soon as she'd started talking and she could count up to twelve now by herself but when Charles read her shape and animal books they sometimes went up to a hundred. The hundred chickens filled two pages in the book she had at home!

He stopped spinning her and picked her up again until she wrapped her legs around her father and bobbed on his waist, "Mummy and Daddy love you both to more numbers than we can ever count to."

"I can count to twelve." She said proudly. "My Daddy taughted me."

"I did, I taught you."

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six." She said quickly in succession. "Seven. Nine."

"Oh?"

"Mmm…." Mae hummed, smiling, "Eight. Nine and ten. Leven. Twelllll-ve!" She said excitedly, sticking her arms into the air.

"Well done, darling, my clever girl."

"I teach Lily to count when she comded home."

"You can. But we still need to work on your word endings."

"She'll get there Charles," Elsie said sleepily.

"Of course she will, because she's the smartest girl in the world." he bounced her in his arms. "Who's the smartest girl in the world?"

"I am!" Mae proclaimed.

"And who's the prettiest girl in the world?"

"Errr… Mae!"

"Daddy's Mae-Bae." He kissed her head.

"And Mummy," Mae said. "Mummy's pretty too."

"Mummy is the most beautiful Mummy in the whole world."

Mae nodded. "And Lily is the prettiest baby."

"Of course, because she came from your Mummy." Charles glanced across as Elsie settled down in the bed, turning onto her side to watch them playing. "Mummy's tired now."

"Sleepy mummy."

"Hey, how about we go to the cafe and find your Grandparents and maybe go have some dinner somewhere?"

"MacDonalds?!"

"Not twice in one day," Charles said.

"Not twice in one week," Elsie mumbled.

"I'll get you spaghetti, and then Granny can take you home and Daddy will come back later to see about bringing Mummy home too."

"Won't they want to see Lily?" Elsie asked.

"We'll figure something out, don't worry." He carried Mae to the bed. "Gonna kiss your Mummy bye bye?"

"Bye bye Mummy," Mae said, placing a sloppy kiss to Elsie's cheek.

"Bye, my darling," she rubbed Mae's back. "Love you."

Mae wriggled out of her father's arms and skipped to the cot in which her baby sister now lay and stuck her face right up to the perspex. "Bye bye Lily," she whispered. "See you soon."

June 2011

Elsie slipped her shoes off beneath the desk and curled her toes, feeling the warm material of her stockings pulling tight over her toenails. She rubbed her heels into the rough carpet, rolled her neck back and dropped her pencil to the desk.

It was far too warm to work and despite the fact she'd taken off her jacket and pinned her hair up out of the way, she still felt drained by the lazy heat.

Turning her attention back to the spreadsheet on her computer screen she twisted her chair slightly so she was facing it, picked up her pencil and continued jotting down numbers onto the pad on her desk.

When the rap at her door came she expected Anna with tea (giving her an excuse for another mini-break) but when she glanced up, over the top of her glasses, she found Charles nervously peeking through the gap in the door.

"Hi," he whispered, afraid to disturb her.

She quickly yanked her glasses off, suddenly feeling flushed, "Hi. What are you…?"

He stepped in, closing the door shut behind him, "I was going to email you and ask…" he shrugged, "it seemed silly to do so. So, I thought I'd just come see you instead."

"See me about what?" She twisted her chair round again, indicating the one across the other side of the desk for him.

"The firm's summer garden party. You've planned it for the past seven years and I wondered if you'd carry on. I understand if you don't want to," he added quickly. "I can find somebody else but… you always did it so well and everyone always had a good time."

For a moment, a very brief moment, she floundered. This she hadn't expected. After being separated for thirteen months she'd expected a meeting to discuss divorce proceedings, perhaps permanent shared custody of both girls. But no. He'd made a trip out of his way to her offices to discuss a summer party.

"Last year?" She asked with a frown, turning the page over on her pad to a fresh one. "Who did that?"

"We didn't have one," he admitted. "Just took everyone out for a meal instead. It was extremely dull by comparison."

She smiled slightly at that, a feeling of pride blooming in her chest. "Well, I er, I'm happy to take some details of course. But it is already June Charles, we are very busy." It felt odd being business-like with him; in the past when they'd discussed his parties, it had been over family dinners or a quick chat in the car or sometimes, in the early days, whilst she was in the bath and he sat on the floor beside her sharing a bottle of wine.

"I don't want to cause you extra stress or add to an already heavy workload."

"No, of course…" She crossed her ankles beneath the table, suddenly aware that she had bare feet. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh. So you can do it? I don't mind when… whatever date works best for you."

"Well, if not me personally then one of the others, I'm sure." she reached for her glasses. "If that's okay?"

He wanted her to do it personally; her events were always more to his taste, coming he supposed from knowing him so well, but he knew not to push his luck. "That's fine," he replied, hoping that she wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to get involved.

"I'll do my best though," she slid her glasses on, opening up her diary on the computer. "I'm assuming you want a similar function to the things I did in the past? A kind of fete?"

"Yes. Something the staff can bring their families to, their children, husbands… wives." His eyes found hers as he realised that he was speaking of something that they didn't have anymore… a family.

Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips, her hand travelling across the desk to her phone and pressing the communication through to Anna. "I'll get us some tea."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Will you take the girls? They'd like it."

"Of course, unless it's your weekend to have them… I wouldn't want to encroach."

"As if I'd bother about that Charles," she was scanning through the diary, down to August. "How is Lil…?" She asked gently, it had been eight days since she'd seen her and she missed her desperately. "How was the school trip?"

"She's fine. Trip was a roaring success. She really enjoyed it." It had only been a local visit; to Jorvik Viking Centre and Lily had been several times before, but to speak to her it had seemed as if this trip was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"She has your love of history," Elsie commented. "I'm glad she enjoyed it so much," she said without a trace of regret - she had missed her day (and sleepover) with her mum to take the trip.

"Do you want to come over tonight and see her?" he offered. "She can tell you all about it herself then. Or I can drop her round at yours for a few hours?"

"Well, I," she looked up to the door as Anna came in. "Anna, I wondered if you might make us some tea."

"Charles?" Anna exclaimed and he turned quickly in his chair, getting to his feet and hugging the young lady. "So good to see you."

"And you. How are you?"

"Oh you know, busy, we're all busy." She glanced to Elsie.

"And I'm afraid I've just added to your workload with my firm's summer garden party."

"Oh, I used to love those!" Anna enthused.

Elsie watched the exchange with a hint of jealousy; he seemed to have relaxed immeasurably with Anna and somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if they'd ever be as relaxed with each other again.

"Bring biscuits too," Elsie suddenly said curtly, clicking on the calendar. "How about August 14th?"

Charles took his pocket diary from inside his jacket and flicked to 14th August. "Looks fine to me."

"Good." She pressed on the date. "Do you need me to send out invitations to your staff and their families?"

Charles glanced at her from the page, slightly taken aback by her sudden frostiness. "Erm… yes please, if you wouldn't mind; I'm bound to forget someone if I do it. I'll get you a list of select clients I was planning on inviting too."

"Alright. If you could email them." She gave him a quick look. "Or fax, at the least."

"I could always pop them in when I drop Lil off sometime." He didn't like all this newfangled technology.

She bit the inside of her cheek, she much preferred digital copies, they were easier to manipulate. If he gave her paper then one of her staff would end up typing the list up… ahh well. He'd never really moved with the digital age as she had. It was quite endearing really. She rested her chin on her balled up hand, "You look well, Charles."

He didn't really know how to respond to that. He was aching from being in the same room with her; so close and yet so far. It was taking all his energy just to get through the conversation. In the end he settled on a simple, "Thanks. You too."

She curled her finger into the back of her hair, where the tendrils had fallen loose from the clip she wore, loosening in the humidity of her office. "I don't feel it. It's stifling in here."

"You need air conditioning."

"It's broken, the air con. I called the engineer this morning but you know how things are."

He remembered a time when she was a timid wee thing, especially with strangers, especially when she had to make phone calls and complain about something. She hated it. Would have to be on her own in order to do it. Now, she looked every inch the confident, and successful, businesswoman.

He tugged on his jacket, wondering if his next words would be overstepping the boundaries of their new… well, what was this exactly? Some sort of relationship? More than an acquaintance. "I have a fan you could borrow. I bought one last summer, but then my Mother found some in her attic and brought them round, and I really don't need three… you're welcome to the spare one if it will help."

She smiled warmly, "Thanks for the offer, but I'm guaranteed a working system by the end of the week. And I take promises seriously."

He knew that; when someone broke a promise to Elsie she found it hard to forgive, to trust them. He'd promised her he'd be around more when Lil' was born - a promise he'd broken which had, as much as he didn't want to admit it, ultimately led to the breakdown of their marriage.

When Anna had brought the tea and Elsie poured it for them and sat down again Elsie wondered why she'd ordered it. There was little they had to discuss in terms of the party - she knew his tastes, what he'd want it to be. And the whole thing felt a little awkward.

"So, this summer?" She suddenly said, snapping a ginger biscuit in half.

"What about it?"

"I just wondered what you'd like to do. It worked okay last year with us having a week each, but I was thinking of maybe taking them abroad this year, and it seems silly to travel a distance for only a week, you know?"

"You have something in mind?"

"They want Disney." She said sheepishly, awaiting his sarcastic response. "I can take them on my own if you don't fancy it, but we'll have to go for two weeks, no point going for less."

"You're asking me to come?" he asked, shocked.

She bit her lip, "Well," shuffled the papers on her desk. "Not if you don't want to."

"No, I'm just surprised, that's all. I thought you'd want some time with them on your own."

"I do, I mean, of course." Why did she suddenly feel so flustered? "It's just that, well you remember when they were little, when Mae discovered The Little Mermaid…?"

"And we watched it a thousand times!"

"Yes. And you told her one day we'd take her to the real land where they all lived and she believed you. I didn't think you'd want to miss it is all," she shrugged. "But I don't mind, taking them on my own. I can manage it."

"As much as I doubt Mae still believes, I…"

She blushed, "No. Maybe not." She pushed her chair back from the desk. "It doesn't matter, I'll just go ahead and book for the three of us."

"No, you misunderstand me. I'd like to, if you're sure you want me to come?"

"You don't have to spend any time with me, Charles, if that's what concerns you." She suddenly felt very defensive, it had taken her a hell of a lot to actually bring this point up.

"That isn't what I said," he shot back. "But as we're proving right now, we can barely be in the same room for more than half an hour without arguing. Won't be much of holiday, will it?" He sighed. "I just want to make sure, that's all… before we fork out all that money and it be a complete disaster. As wonderful as I'm sure the girls would find it, they don't deserve to be put through that."

"Then don't come," she huffed, folding her arms. "But don't complain when we've all had a wonderful time without you." She picked her pencil up, for some unknown reason, and waved it at him, "And I'll remind you that you came here today to ask me for a favour."

"No, I was looking to employ your company's services. But if you're not going to be civil to me, then sod it!" He turned on his heel and stormed out.

"Oh fuck," Elsie chastised herself, throwing her pencil down. That wasn't how it was meant to go. "Bollocks!" She threw the pencil across the room. Like bloody children.

Shoving her feet back into her shoes she got up from her chair, rounded the desk and tripped over his briefcase, sending her falling into the door.

"Shit!"

She picked up the case and opened her office door; she was damned if she'd chase after him - but she certainly walked that little bit quicker as she headed down the corridor and towards the lift. Charles, thankfully, was still leaning against it, cursing its speed as he continually pressed the 'call' button.

Stopping beside him she placed his briefcase on the floor by his feet.

"Sorry," she said gently.

"Don't worry about it."

"But I do worry, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward. I've gone over a thousand times how to ask you, I didn't consider you'd say no. And I should have."

"I didn't say no," he reminded. "I just asked if you were sure and you took that to mean…" he shrugged. "Well I don't even know..."

"Believe me, Charles, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't." She shuffled from one foot to the other. "I felt embarrassed, asking you…" She felt like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole and was glad when the lift door opened and he stepped inside; she followed him, pressing the button for the ground floor. It beat talking in the bloody office corridor.

"Shall we start again?" he suggested, hating to see her embarrassed. She had no need to be nervous with him. Even after everything. "Elsie, I'm in a bit of a pickle and could use your help. I need to organise the summer garden party and, as usual, I've left it to the last minute to even start thinking about it. i don't suppose you'd be able to…" he waved his arm, "you know…"

She laughed, "Of course I'll help, Charles." He was smiling at her and she wanted to reach across and touch his arm. "And I was hoping we could take our daughters to Florida this year, Disneyland. Because they'll love it." She folded her arms, more to force herself to keep her hands to herself than for comfort. "And because, well, because there's nothing either of us loves more and I think we could make it work for them, if we tried."

"We love them both to more numbers than we can ever count to," remembered Charles; he'd said that to Mae the day Lily was born, it had stuck and was often referenced by his daughter or himself.

Elsie gasped at his words, hiding it behind her hand. It hurt to hear him say it, to remember where it came from.

She chewed on her fingernail, looking away from him. "So, I'll email you the hotel I was considering? See what you think?"

"Yeah, sure. Although I'm sure it'll be fine; you always had good taste. Let me know what dates you were thinking too."

"Of course, I'm sorry, I forgot you'll need to try and book the dates."

"It shouldn't be a problem," he said. "Robert and Cora have already been on their big trip this year."

She glanced to the flashing lights, noting they were approaching the first floor - she felt as if they were running out of time.

"Okay. That's good. So, I'll get started this afternoon on the party and then… well, maybe you could some for dinner one night? We can discuss the holiday with the girls together? If you're not busy, of course."

"Let me know what night works for you. It's pretty quiet at work at the moment."

She nodded, "Charles." She said seriously.

"Elsie?" He responded, equally as serious.

"I'm sorry that we…" She waved a hand between them, "we couldn't make us work. But for the girls… we're both smart, decent people aren't we?"

He nodded, his throat tight, incapable of speech.

"And we were friends, good friends, before anything happened. And I think we can be civil to each other. If we try."

"I think so too," he agreed, as the lift doors opened on the ground floor. He stepped out, turning back to face her. "Well… I'll say goodbye."

"Bye," she said simply, turning in the lift and watching him step out into the busy foyer. "I'll call you, or text."

"Sure. That's fine." He backed away from the lift doors.

"Charles…"

"Yes?"

"You forgot your briefcase... again."

Present Day - Date #2

Charles sat at the bar, nursing a glass of red wine. He looked at his watch; 6.50pm. They'd arranged to meet at 6.30. He called both her office - no answer - and her mobile, it had rang and eventually gone to voicemail. He was starting to worry; two possible scenarios running through his head. One: that she'd changed her mind about the whole thing and wasn't coming, or two, that something had happened. He didn't know which would be worse.

He picked his phone up from where it sat on the bar - he'd wanted it somewhere he could see it, in case she'd tried to contact him - and was just about to call her again when she appeared in front of him, looking flustered and concerned.

"I am so, so sorry!" she said, catching her breath. She'd ran from the car, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer. "I got stuck in a meeting with Richard Carlisle."

"The newspaper guy?"

"One and the same. I'm organising his firm's Christmas party. He prattled on about nothing of consequence until 6:20 and then I wanted to change and brush my hair…" she sighed, slapping her handbag onto the bar. "So. I'm sorry."

Charles laid his hand on hers where it sat on the bar, still holding tight to the strap of her bag. "It's alright, don't worry."

"Oh, but I was… I just...," she slipped onto the stool beside him - it amused him how it took her a hefty push from the bar to get to the seat, whilst his feet still touched the floor. "I thought, 'typical, second date and work already interfering. I didn't want you to think that I'd already gone back on our promise." She turned on her stool to face him, her knees touching his, "Didn't want you to be pissed at me."

"I was more worried than pissed. I thought something had happened… I tried to call you but I just got your voicemail."

"I had it on silent." She rummaged in her bag, "in fact I still have."

"Well, you're here now," Charles said. "That's the important thing."

She smiled, his hand was still on hers. "Yes. I am."

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"A very large Pinot. And some nuts."

Charles called the barman over and ordered Elsie's drink, as well as the nuts and a bag of pork scratchings, before turning back to her. "So, apart from the fiasco with Richard Carlisle, how was your day?"

"Oh, you know, frantically busy. It's Christmas after all. Everyone's poor, stressed and in misery." She chuckled, "How was yours?"

Charles was about to give the same old perfunctory answer of 'fine' when he remembered the conversation they'd had in the country pub on Saturday, when he'd admitted to her for the first time, how unhappy his job sometimes made him. "It was… as tedious and monotonous as ever."

She smiled sadly, briefly resting her hand on his knee "You know, you could always come work with me. I'm surrounded by women - be nice to have a handsome, reliable man to handle the male clients, win over the older females."

"I doubt any of your female clients would be interested in me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she reached to take a sip of her wine. "That voice, for a start." She glanced back to his face, "and your hands."

He looked at his hands, turning them over, inspecting them. He couldn't see anything remarkable about them.

"A woman likes strong hands, Charles, to open jars!" She popped a handful of peanuts into her mouth.

"Isn't that a bit… sexist?"

She laughed, "You mean in all your years you still haven't learned that women are a mass of contradictions?"

He chuckled, before replying in a teasing tone, "It would appear not… which, given that I was married to you, is a bit of a surprise."

"Still married," she pointed out, before taking another sip of her wine.

He was silent for a moment, then ploughed on. "I've been looking into something anyhow."

"Oh?"

"How much rental properties make."

"You're thinking of becoming a landlord?"

He shrugged. "It's just an abstract idea at the moment. But seeing our old student digs, empty and bereft of life, well… the kid did say it was for sale."

Her eyes widened at the implication, "You're thinking of selling your share in the business? Or just taking on an invisible partner role? Don't you have something like 65% since your father retired?"

"I've not really thought about the logistics, save for cutting back my hours as we've already discussed."

She slid her little finger around the rim of her glass, "I know you always planned for Mae to have it, the business, once she showed an aptitude for maths. You remember how she used to love going to your office when she was small? How excited she got to spin in Daddy's chair, sit behind his big desk?"

He smiled at the memory. "She used to love that. I may be able to buy it without selling my share of the firm. It depends..." He didn't dare mention that the main thing it depended on would be if they worked out and he moved back in. If that happened, which he very much hoped it would at some point in the not too distant future, he could sell his house and use the money from that to buy their old student house. "I need to sit down with the figures. Which is a less than appealing prospect when it's all I do all day, every day," he joked.

"But you've always been good at it, Charles, just like Mae - quick as a shot with numbers. I'm still carrying across the odd digit."

He smiled at that. "Yes I'm good at it. Doesn't mean I want to spend my spare time doing it. Especially not now, when there are more important things I could be doing."

She bit her lip, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you did." She glanced to her lap, to where her hand rested.

He reached for her hand. "I think you missed the important part of that statement. I'd much rather spend time with you than stare at endless columns of figures."

She smirked, "A different kind of figure…? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"If it's not too cheesy…"

They both laughed together, and she felt his hand rest upon hers again.

"Let me take you out for dinner," she said, "to make up for me being late and worrying you. Rustique? You always liked it there."

"Now?" He glanced at his watch; they'd only arranged to have drinks - Beryl was watching the girls.

"No, I mean another night. Another date. I have to collect the girls in an hour or so."

"You don't have to make anything up to me," Charles said. "But, having said that, I'm not going to turn down a night out with you, especially at Rustique, if the offer still stands."

"Of course," she turned her hand over, folding her fingers around his.

"Thursday?"

She mentally thought over what day it was - Tuesday - that wasn't too long until she got to see him again. "You have plans Friday night?"

"I don't think so. Why? Are you busy Thursday?"

"Not at all. But I was thinking I might put the Christmas decorations up on Friday night, the girls have been asking all week and I thought we'd go fetch the tree."

He smiled warmly, "I'd really like that."

"So would we. I'll cook too, something wintery and warming."

"Sounds perfect. I can go get the tree if you like, on my way round, if that's easier?"

"That would be lovely. Means I can get started and hopefully we'll have it all done before midnight!" She took a sip of her wine before slowly saying. "Mae has a date on Saturday"

Charles' eyes widened. "A date?!"

"I knew I'd see that face! She is fifteen, and he's a nice boy, we've known him since they were at Junior school together - Adam."

"That scrawny kid with dark hair… lives round the corner?"

"He's quite the looker now. And besides, I seem to remember you being the wrong side of skinny when we first started dating - didn't my father call you a zipper with a nose when I first introduced you?"

"You always used to say you liked the way I looked."

"I liked it when you bulked out a bit too, didn't make me feel so self conscious about having curves."

His eyes raked slowly over her. "I like your curves," he whispered.

She blushed, leaning in closer to him, "Don't say things like that - this is a public, busy place, and you'll make me want to kiss you."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked, a glint in his eye.

"No, but folks don't tend to like watching older people snogging. So unless you want to make out in your car, stop flirting with me."

"Not with my back love, not anymore."

Elsie giggled and Charles grinned at her. He loved the sound of her laugh and was secretly proud that he could elicit it from her as easily as he could.

Later, as he walked her back to her car, her arm looped through his, taking in the lights. The trees of the square were beautifully illuminated and despite the fact Christmas was still a few weeks off, and work was as hectic as it ever could be, Elsie felt decidedly festive.

"So," Charles stated, "Friday. Did you have a time in mind?"

"Let's try and eat for 7:00; I don't like the girls eating too late."

"I don't like eating too late."

She laughed, rubbing his arm. "That I remember. I may make that steak and stilton stew you always enjoy so much."

"Cheesy mash?" He asked hopefully.

"Depends…" She teased.

"On?"

"The size of the tree you bring back."

"It's always about the size with you, isn't it?"

The both chuckled like naughty school kids.

"A woman has to have standards."

"Yeah. Yeah." He patted where her hand lay upon his arm. "Shall I take Lil?"

"Definitely not. She always goes for the biggest one available," she paused, reflecting on how far she could take the flirtation before it was a step too far. But then again, they knew each other so well, going too far seemed unlikely.

"She hasn't quite realised that size isn't everything. It's what you do with it that counts."

He bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing, "Oh. And is it not possible to have both?"

She turned slightly in front of him, slowing his steps, "Only a lucky few can manage it."

"You're decidedly naughty, Mrs Carson."

Her eyebrows rose, "You used to call me naughty Miss Hughes, remember?"

"Yeah, but let's face it, we'd only been dating a couple of months when I realised I wanted you to be Mrs Carson." He paused, debating whether to add to his statement with what he was thinking. "I wanted you to be Mrs Carson for the rest of our lives."

She was still standing in front of him, walking slowly backwards. One of her hands still holding his rather awkwardly. She swallowed at the implication of his statement.

"Do you think," she said gently, her earlier silliness abating, "at any point over the past five years, that I stopped being Mrs Carson?"

"There were times," he replied, "when I thought you didn't want to be."

She stopped the pretense of walking now and they stood still in the park. "I think I forgot how to be her." She shook her head, "No. That's wrong. I don't mean that. What I mean is I started to feel I had different roles I had to play: the old student Elsie, perfect mother, businesswoman, and then this idea of 'wife', which alternated between being supportive, organised, sex-bomb." She smiled at that, "I just couldn't juggle it all."

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, "What I've realised over the past few years is that they're all one and the same. And you're right. I've always been Mrs. Carson."

He stepped in close to kiss her and she rested her hands on his chest, "Wait a second," she said, her eyes glinting with mischief. She tilted her head to the side questioningly, "You're not about to lick my face, are you?"

His brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

"Just something Mae said the other day, doesn't matter really. You can kiss me now."

"Oh, I can, can I? Well, thanks for the green light."

"Make it good though," she warned teasingly.

"Now I feel under pressure." he pouted playfully.

"Oh, shut up!" She said, raising up on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

As soon as their lips touched his arms wrapped around her and then they melted into each other. He often found that, as he was so much taller and broader than her, he could wrap her inside his coat with him.

As the kiss intensified she pulled back slightly, her mouth still close to his, and glanced behind him, noticing people coming down the path. She pushed him back onto the grass and round the side of a majestic oak tree until they were out of sight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Are you leading me astray again, Mrs Carson?"

"Oh, but you love it," she replied flirtatiously, tugging him back to her and whispering by his mouth, "tell me to stop."

"I don't want you to," he whispered in response. "I've gone without you long enough."

She moaned deeply as he deepened the kiss, bracing her against the tree as he pressed against her body. As the kiss continued she sought the warmth of his body: her hands sliding into his open coat and around his back, clutching at the cotton fabric of his shirt. He followed her lead, seeking her body, fingers sliding eagerly inside her coat and around her waist; moaning her name as the palms of his hands eased over the tantalising curve of her hips.

She shortened the kiss - easing it back to just a touch of lips against lips. "We better stop," she whispered, her mouth still brushing his.

"Mmm…"

"Or I can see us re-enacting a scene from our youth."

He smiled, "A rather memorable scene, as I recall."

October 2003

When Mae was born it was only nine weeks before they made love again. Elsie had been nervous - scared things might have changed - but she needn't have worried. Charles treated her like china, in fact she couldn't recall him ever being so gentle and tender. Far from 'changing' their sex life, becoming parents seemed to have deepened it on some level. The intimacy there was increased, the respect deepened, and the tenderness they had for each other even greater.

When Lily was born it was very different.

Mae slotted into their lives, in their little house with their few possessions. She slept in their bedroom in her cot at the end of the bed in the beginning. She fed on Elsie's chest in the middle of the night with Charles watching it like some kind of miracle. Everything was new. Precious. The first time she bathed, the first gurgle and smile, weaning her onto solid food, Charles trying to teach her to talk, Elsie helping her walk from the couch to the coffee table.

It was harder with Lily.

Maybe because the birth had been harder, longer, maybe because Elsie was still uncertain about how her life would go now with two children. Maybe because they'd bought a new house with a huge mortgage and Charles worked and worked and worked.

There were problems with breastfeeding. She was in agony for weeks and had to express and use a bottle - this would have been perfect for sharing duties but Charles wasn't always around at feeding time, and now he usually slept through the night he was so exhausted.

And Lily cried. Mae had been such a calm and easy-going baby (a far cry from her teenage years when Elsie's sassy voice had reared it's head). But Lily was always red-faced and upset. There were times when Elsie wondered if she were the cause of her child's temperament; she'd been so stressed during the pregnancy, so unsure of it, that maybe somehow she'd passed on her anxieties, made her own baby stressed.

And so, the intimacy that had returned so easily after the first child became something of a distant memory; a wire pulled tight and stretching at its bonds.

Three months had passed and the sex hadn't returned.

Sometimes he'd hold her at night. Sometimes she'd hold him. And once, in early September, they'd tried and it had ended in embarrassment and awkwardness as she'd pushed him away before they'd even got going and his erection had quickly disappeared.

When October came it brought his father's birthday and, of course, a family party, and so they'd dressed up, taken the girls to Beryl's overnight, and attended.

Elsie had worn a flowing black dress, keenly aware her body wasn't how it used to be - she felt softer, rounder, especially in the breast and stomach area - and they'd danced together for the first time in a very long time. And got drunk together for the first time since before she'd fallen pregnant.

"Want to walk?" Charles whispered by her ear, noting her rosy cheeks and red-tipped ears.

She nodded, not speaking, and kept hold of his hand as he'd moved across the dancefloor and led her outside.

"Here," he said, as they reached the bottom of the steps to the garden, "take my jacket."

"Thanks." She shrugged inside it before holding his hand again and for a while they walked in silence over the frosted grass - still and serene in the early hours of the morning.

"Do you want…" He started, then stopped himself.

"Do I want?"

He shrugged, swinging her hand slightly, "to talk. Maybe."

"About us, you mean?"

"Yeah. I mean, things have been…"

"Different," she suggested, "things have been different between us."

He nodded. "I thought maybe a talk would do us good. And we have the time… the girls are in good hands and Beryl said not to rush to pick them up tomorrow."

"I know, Charles, I made the arrangements." She said, then regretted being so short with him. It seemed easy now, to be short and sharp with him, like it had replaced their normal mode of communication. She bit her lip, glancing to the distance and the woods that surrounded the property.

"Yes. You did," he replied, hurt by her tone. "Look, if you'd rather go back inside, we can. I just thought we could try and work out what's wrong."

"I know, and I appreciate that." She sighed. "I think the main issue is we've hardly seen each other, and when we do we're both so exhausted."

"I know I've been working a lot. It's harder than I thought, Robert not being there and Dad having retired."

"I'm not angry with you for working, Charles, you want to provide - I get that, you told me as much when we were only young and hypothesising about being parents. You want to look after your family. I'm not saying it's either of our faults, it's just the way it is. It was easier with Mae in some ways, simpler, but then we were younger and perhaps adapted more quickly to the change."

"Maybe. I do feel that we hardly see each other," he admitted. "I can't remember the last time we had a conversation that wasn't about the girls or whose turn it was to take the bins out or what we need from Sainsbury's."

She smiled, "I guess we've turned into the boring domestic couple. Now we can say things to each other like, 'Hey, remember that time we were wild and did crazy things?' And reminisce about how great it was."

"I don't want to be boring. Let's do something spontaneous."

"You mean like when I convinced you to share a jet-ski and bugger off despite the instructor's warnings?"

"Maybe not something quite that reckless!"

"You've not completed the training!" Elsie said, imitating the instructor from their time in Spain, and they both laughed at the memory. Charles could picture it so vividly it was almost like being back there - the noise of the machine, the waves, the smell of salt on Elsie's skin as she gripped his waist.

They paused when they reached the fence that divided his parents' property from the woods.

"Wanna turn back?" She asked.

"Do you?"

"Not yet, I'm rather enjoying being alone with you."

She let him lift her on top of the fence, sat for a moment with her legs dangling and Charles' arms around her waist holding her safe. When she leaned in to kiss him he was so hungry for her he almost let go and she toppled precariously, yelping and gripping his shoulders and they laughed together again.

They'd both had quite a few glasses of Champagne and only bits and pieces of nibbles so the alcohol had quickly done its job.

She let his jacket slip from her arms and pool around her waist, "You still find me attractive?" She whispered, almost afraid of herself as she said the words, letting one of her main concerns of the moment disappear into the dark night.

"Definitely," he replied. "I've always found you attractive."

"Things have changed, I've changed. I'm not who I was back in that attic, not that student girl anymore. You've changed too. You're more serious now."

"And do you find me less attractive because of that?"

She shook her head, "No. My attraction for you is somehow all muddled up with my love for you, though, something I wasn't entirely sure of when we were young - it scared me, how strong it was. And I do love you, Charles, I love what we have, our life, our children. As hard as it is."

"I know you do. And I love you too. Just because we may have changed, doesn't mean we don't still feel the same about each other."

She drummed her fingers on his shoulders contemplating her next move.

"You remember the times when we used to really… well, our sex life was most definitely sex, primal, and not making love. You remember those nights?"

"Vividly," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"I remember how you used to talk to me in those moments, the things you'd say - how I belonged to you, how only you could make me feel like that…" she leant in close to whisper by his ear, "it would turn me on so much."

Her words re-ignited something deep inside him and he captured her mouth with his, kissing her passionately as she sat there on the fence, his hands holding her hips tightly.

Breathless, she placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly, his eyes wide as he watched her shrug the jacket off completely, fiddle beneath her dress and pull out her bra. Grinning he took both items of clothing and hung them from the fence post.

"Don't forget that," she said lowly, before lifting her legs up, turning on the fence and jumping down over the other side. He watched mesmerised as she took a few steps back into the woods then stopped, staring at him, her eyes bright in the darkness.

He felt, and heard, himself groan as he took in her next movement; the slow rise of the skirt she wore, her hands disappearing beneath, and then the wiggle of her hips as she slipped her knickers down her legs.

"Don't forget those either." She said, balling them up and throwing them back to him.

He watched as they landed at his feet, stared at them for several seconds as his brain tried to process what was happening. When it finally caught up, he picked them up, stuffed them into the pocket on his jacket hanging from the fence and vaulted over. He met her gaze and she felt a jolt of triumph as she saw the predatory look in his eyes - exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

He stalked slowly towards her, his hands working to unfasten his trousers as he moved.

Giggling she backed up against a tree, peeling the straps of her dress down until her breasts were exposed, her nipples instantly tight at the joint sensation of the cold air and sight of her husband pushing his boxers down and setting his erection free.

She moaned loudly as he reached her, his mouth on hers, tongues dueling for dominance.

His hands worked quickly, sliding over her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples until she gasped, and then continuing down, gripping her bottom tightly and pressing her pelvis against his.

"Mmm, I remember liking this part." She said mischievously.

"Me too," he lifted her up, delighting in the mixed sounds of her pleasure and surprise. She curled her legs around his waist as they kissed. "I remember," he panted between kisses, "you enjoying making love," he nudged his nose with hers, "enjoying every second of your orgasm."

"Don't make love to me," she said fiercely, grinding against him, kissing him hotly. "Make me come, I want to feel you." Her hands were inside the back of his trousers kneading his bottom. "I want you."

"Oh God Els! I want you too," he whispered, pushing himself inside her.

She gasped at the quickness of it, gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, "Yes, Charles." She kissed his head, over his face, "I thought you'd gone off me." She said frantically.

"Never!" he growled, kissing her neck and sucking on her pulse point.

"Show me you haven't," she panted, throwing her head back against the tree to give him better access to her neck and breasts. Above her the sky was inky black and clear, dotted with crystal stars. "Show me," she breathed deeply, "make me…"

He pushed his hand down in between them, over the fabric of the dress that was bunched up around her waist, and stroked her, making her buck against him. He continue his assault on her neck, pressing light, quick kisses down to her chest, his other hand kneading the soft tissue of her breast as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Everything inside Elsie seemed to clench at once. It would have been almost embarrassing how quickly he could make her come, but it had been so long and she had missed this, missed him. She needed this more than air. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, a long keening moan escaping. "Oh yes!"

He smashed his lips against hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she pulsed around him.

She dug her heels into his bottom, felt him slow his movements, his hips hardly moving at all now as they found a pulsing rhythm that started inside her and moved through into his body. They kissed languidly; her hands in his hair, thighs tight around him. He knew her so well, knew how to wait now, let the first orgasm just ease away leaving her warm and quivering.

And then he'd do it again.

She pulled back from the kiss, her forehead resting against his. "Charles that was… Oh!" She gasped as he began to thrust once more, pinching her nipple as he did so.

"You didn't think it was over, did you?" he teased, whispering in her ear. "We're not done yet, Mrs Carson. Not by a long shot."

Despite the passion of the moment she couldn't help but giggle at his words, "Mrs Carson... I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Well then, I suppose I should tell you how much I love fucking you, slipping inside your hot, wet pussy," he growled.

"Oh god, I'd forgotten you could talk to me like that!" She lifted her legs around him again from where they'd slipped after her first climax. "I want to feel you come inside me," she said firmly, kissing his face repeatedly. "Only you. It's always only been you."

Her words inflamed him, and his hands fell to her bottom, clutching her tightly against him as he sped up, thrusting harder, slamming into her.

Elsie felt almost weightless, his thrusts were so powerful now she couldn't return them, only enjoy it. She pressed her palms heavily onto his shoulders pushing her body up and back; the bark of the tree a delicious contrast to the heavenly feel of him inside of her, the heat between them, the rub of the tree behind her.

"I love you," she gasped into the night, "I want you so badly." She found his mouth again and they kissed hungrily. "You make me feel alive." She mumbled against his lips between kissing him.

"I love you too, Els," he panted. "God I love you so much. Missed this so much. You feel so good."

"So do you, so big," she panted, feeling her orgasm building, "so, so good, Charles, don't stop."

"Noooo…"

"Please, don't…" She looked up to the sky again, then over his head, to the distant lights of the house, the party still going on. It made her smirk with mischief - all the times his mother had worried Elsie was the wrong girl for him, all the ideas she had about her in the early days.

He caught the glint in her eye and instinctively knew what she was thinking. "You're enjoying this aren't you; fucking out here, where anyone could see you. Such. A. Naughty. Girl." He punctuated his words with deep thrusts of his hips.

"I enjoy fucking you wherever we are," she replied - if he could be bad, so could she. "And you love it too." She ground her hips forward, squeezing him inside her.

"Oh fuck!"

"And don't think I'm done with you neither," she said, feeling intensely powerful. "When we get home I'm going to show you just how much I've missed this. Remind you how lucky you are."

The seductive lilt of her voice coupled with his imaginings of just what she had planned for them, pushed him over the edge. "Jesus Els! Oh fu… I'm going to come. Oh. Come with me!"

Suddenly she gasped in shock, pressed hard on his shoulders, "Wait."

"Wha…?"

"Stop. Wait. Someone's there… Charles…." She noted a tall figure moving through the garden towards them, almost at the fence they'd climbed not half-an-hour ago.

"I can't."

"No, stop," she yelped, half in pleasure, half in shock. "It's your… god Charles… your…."

"It's dark. They won't see." He didn't care who was watching, too caught up in his pleasure.

"They'll hear you," she pushed on him again, dropping her legs from his waist, wiggling free. But he was already moaning her name, jerking against her and clearly in the middle of a rather intense orgasm.

Elsie shuddered behind him, shrinking back in embarrassment, slipping down the tree until she was almost on her knees and Charles was shaking violently in front of her.

"Oh fuck," she muttered as the distinct sound of somebody clambering over the undergrowth met them.

"Els…" Charles whispered.

"Oh shit, sorry," they both heard James - Charles' younger cousin - say abruptly. "Erm, sorry you guys, sorry." He turned from them, began quickly moving back towards the fence, tripping once or twice as he retreated.

Elsie shook her head, her cheeks burning, "He'll have thought I was…"

Charles braced himself, his palm high against the tree, catching his breath. "Well, you were the one who moved," he panted.

"Did I want your twenty-year old cousin to see my nipples?"

"Probably not," he agreed. "But forget about him. Come here." He used his other hand to grasp hers and pull her up. When she stood in front of him, he softly pressed his lips against hers, kissing her lovingly. "That was amazing Els," he whispered as he pulled back.

She bit down on her lip, blushing from head to toe, "You think he heard some of the things we said to each other?"

"Of course not, now forget about it." He nudged her nose with his, "And remember how good it felt instead."

She draped her arms over his shoulders, "It did feel pretty good."

"It felt better than good."

"Mmm," she kissed him tenderly, "I love you."

"I love you too. Now, how about we straighten ourselves out, go back to the house, make our excuses and go home."

"Straighten ourselves out?! I think I have your…, well, on my shoe! Which is pretty disgusting actually."

"Charming!" He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

"I can't help it, it just makes me feel a bit 'ew'."

"You never used to say that…"

"I beg to differ," she said, bending to wipe her foot, "remember the first time we dared to have sex without a condom and the… the mess on my stomach…"

He laughed loudly, "Oh shit yes, you were in frantic girl mode, 'get it off, get it off'," he squealed imitating her.

"I don't think I was quite that silly!"

"Perhaps not. So," he asked cheekily, "is that why you swallow? To avoid the mess?

"Argh! You can't say that to me," she claimed, swiping at him as she got to her feet, "I'm a married woman. I'm a mother!"

"You're married to me, so that means I'm the one person who can say it to you."

"Not if you want me to ever do it again!"

"And there I was thinking you enjoyed it."

"Mmm," she leaned into him, kissing him teasingly. There was something rather wonderful about being like this together again; relaxed, carefree, this back-and-forth teasing. This is how it used to be, when they were young.

She felt him gently lift the straps of her dress back into place as they continued to dress and, oddly, it seemed even more intimate than when she'd pushed them down for him.

"Won't I need my bra?"

"No one will notice if you've got my jacket on." he shrugged, "you've woken the naughty side of me again Elsie."

She smirked, "Does that mean I should forego all of my underwear? Leave you wondering as we travel home?"

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Of course you do," she pushed away from him, sweeping her hair back as she started to walk towards the fence in search of Charles' jacket. "You're a man."

"You were the one who said you were going to remind me how lucky I was…" he said, following her, unable to take his eyes of the sway of her hips as she walked.

"And..." she unhooked his jacket from where he'd hung it on the fence post and put it on, hiding her underwear in the pockets and fastening up the buttons. "...when I'm riding you later you'll think just that."

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