Coronation Day

‘Thought you said your Aunt Tilly was a diamond at listening and giving advice,’ she teased.

‘She is …’ Christopher paused, realising that a couple of months ago he’d have headed straight to Whadcoat Street to sift through the day’s troubles with his aunt. But instinctively he’d come away from the hospital and headed towards Tottenham, without even returning home first to wash and change out of his work clothes. ‘It’s you I need to talk to now when bad things happen.’ His wry smile turned sultry and his lips prowled after hers to claim a hungry kiss. ‘Don’t go in yet …’ He murmured against her cheek as their lips unsealed.

‘Got to …’ she sighed. ‘You know what me mum’s like about getting me indoors before eleven during the week …’ She glanced sideways at the house and noticed the front-room curtain twitch. ‘Oh, God, she’s watching us alright; probably heard the van pull up. Got to go, Chris, ’cos it’s work in the morning.’

As soon as Grace had got in the van and seen Chris in his overalls, her pique at his late arrival had withered away. She’d realised at once something was wrong. After hearing the bare bones of Stephen’s accident she’d no longer fancied going to the pictures even though he’d sweetly offered to speed home and smarten up so they wouldn’t miss the main feature. Instead they’d gone for a drive and she’d allowed him his long silences while he inwardly battled to make sense of what had occurred. Then they’d parked up outside her house and, unprompted, he’d given her a detailed account of the calamity that afternoon. Grace’s quietly adamant opinion that he wasn’t to blame had started to calm his inner demons, if not completely tame them.

‘Shall we go to the pictures on Saturday instead?’

‘You asking me out, Grace Coleman?’ Chris demanded, feigning surprise. ‘’Cos if you are you’d better not start getting fresh with me, y’know.’

She blushed but saucily squeezed his knee. ‘It’ll be a change for me to be the one taking liberties, Christopher Wild.’ She playfully fended him off as he lunged for her with a growl. ‘My treat this weekend as it’s the end of the month and I get paid,’ she squeaked while being crushed against his chest.

Christopher relaxed his predatory grip on her arms and smoothed one of her warm cheeks with the backs of his fingers. Something had occurred to him, and he regretted bringing it to her attention and putting a dampener on their plans. ‘I doubt if me dad’ll be out of hospital so soon, but if he is, I’m not sure I’ll be going anywhere if he’s hobbling about and needs looking after.’

‘Oh, yes, ’course … I should’ve realised …’ Grace grimaced in apology.

Pushing aside all thoughts of his father Chris concentrated on the warm woman resting against him. He curved an arm about her, drawing her close so his hands could caress her back, stroke at her nape until she was pliant and curling her body against his. ‘I know it’s daft to talk about this so soon, when we’ve only been going out a couple of months, but …’

Grace shifted position and caught his face between her palms, curtailing his diffident declaration of love. ‘Shhh … time enough for that another day.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I’d sooner hear it – if you still want to say it – when you’re over the shock of your dad’s accident.’ Despite her husky rebuff she snuggled up to him encouragingly, tilting up her face to ask, ‘Will you try and find this woman in Clapham so you can ask her some questions?’ His puzzled expression prompted her to explain. ‘You told me your aunt Tilly gave you a tip about a woman who knew your mum years ago. I think you said her name was Vicky. Will you try and find her?’