Chapter 6

I wasn't wildly keen on leaping out of bed in order to drive to Colchester to go to church. Of course, I'd be with Zoe, which was some compensation. I smiled as I remembered her comment about being willing to watch paint dry as long as she was doing it with me. I was willing to sit through a church service as long as I could do it with Zoe.

I showered and dug out one of my suits. I'd got used to being much less formal since setting up on my own, but it still fitted and, I thought, was respectable enough for church.

I got to the Traffords' in good time and sat chatting to the Colonel as the ladies got themselves ready. When they appeared I really only had eyes for Zoe, who was wearing a Spring green dress, a little above the knee, and was shrugging into a jade-green jacket. She entered the room, crossed it to me and demurely took my arm. I couldn't help contrasting her behaviour with that of the previous day.

The service was ... actually not boring at all. The Vicar ... Padre? Chaplain? Priest? spoke for maybe fifteen minutes, but he spoke so well I hardly noticed. Several times he had the congregation in stitches, but he got across his very serious point effectively with the humour. As far as I could understand it (I think pretty well) he was saying we all make mistakes and get things wrong. The only difference between us was what we do about it and what help we get to sort things out. He seemed to be saying we mostly try to do things by ourselves, but we need help from others ... and we need help from God.

Anyway, that and some rousing hymns, prayers that were not too long, was 'it', and we all trooped out to drink coffee (or tea, or orange squash) and chat. As a new face, I wasn't left alone by the regular members as one after another came up to me to introduce themselves. Zoe attached herself to my arm and while she didn't really monopolise the conversation ... she really did let me speak for myself ... she just took a delight in declaring I was her fiancé, we just hadn't bought the ring yet.

The Colonel was chuckling as we walked back to their quarters.

"Are you sure you want to marry her?"

"Daddy!"

"Oh, I think I'd endure more than that for Zoe," I said.

He looked at me seriously. "Well said, son."

Anyway, Marjory served up a wonderful British Sunday lunch ... roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, parsnips, carrots and cabbage. With a rich gravy, it couldn't have been better and I said so.

"Why, thank you, Alex," she said with a smile, "it's nice to be appreciated."

"You're always appreciated," her husband protested.

"Ah, but it's nice to be told," she said.

"Give it up, Daddy," Zoe giggled.

"Marjory ... I'm sorry," he said seriously, "I never want you to feel unappreciated."

"Don't worry, dear, I was teasing a little. But it is nice to be complimented on my cooking."

The Colonel looked thoughtful.

"Well, Alex," he said, looking at me, "it seems you've given me food for thought today."

I didn't know what to say to that. Marjory came to my rescue.

"Syrup suet pudding for dessert. Richard likes his traditional puddings, don't you dear?"

"Yes, my love. And I don't know anyone who does them better."

"Very good, dear. Keep practising and you might get there."

He turned to me. "There you go. Look at the mother and you see your wife in twenty year's time."

I thought for a moment, "Well, sir, you'll have to agree I won't have anything to complain about..."

Marjory laughed and he snorted and then chuckled. "You're right, of course. If I ever get stars, it'll be largely down to Marjory. Zoe has some work to do before tomorrow, but perhaps the two of you would like a walk or something after lunch?"

Colchester Castle is the largest Keep built by the Normans and is built on the (still visible) foundations of a Roman temple. We meandered round the displays, holding hands and snatching the odd kiss.

"Alex..." She used that 'three note interrogative' familiar to anyone who has lived with a teenage girl.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Ooh! Sweetheart! I like that ... now ... Oh, yes. Alex, if you're willing to tutor me with some maths and make sure I do some history homework, I can spend most of next weekend with you."

"Sounds like a good deal. I will, however, make sure you either do your work or I'll bring you back. Much as it would grieve me to do that."

"I know, Alex. I mean to take it very seriously. I couldn't resist yesterday, I wanted you so much. Oh, Alex..." She crushed herself against me. "I'm so glad you came back to me."

It was a long week. Okay, we exchanged emails, and said 'goodnight' on the phone each night, but I would never have believed how much I missed her.

On Friday, I rolled up as instructed for five o'clock and was walking up to the front door only to be met by Zoe, carrying the holdall I'd bought her in Sheffield.

"If you'll give me dinner tonight we can go straight away ... and I can stay 'til Sunday morning. Daddy wants to see us both in church, though."

I was not expecting that, but I wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth either.

"I'll just pop in and say 'hello, goodbye, '" I said, and she smiled, moving on to put her bag in the car and retune the radio to Galaxy FM or something similar. I could live with that ... for half an hour or so, anyway.

I was a little longer in the house than I expected.

"Hullo, Alex," that was Marjory speaking, the Colonel just smiled his welcome.

"We've got a suggestion for you," she went on. "How would you feel about marrying Zoe this summer?"

"Any time, anywhere," I said with a smile, "but ... why? I'd have thought you'd rather we wait."

"If being together will make Zoe ... both of you ... happy, it seems wrong to keep you apart."

"It's strange ... but I've never been so certain of anything in my life before."

"Have this weekend, and we'll talk about it on Sunday after church."

Returning to the car, Zoe looked questioningly at me, but I started the motor and moved off without saying anything. Her curiosity overcame her so she spoke first.

"You were quite a while with Mummy and Daddy."

"Yes ... they gave me something to think about."

"Oh?" She waited for me to expand, but I concentrated on driving. Friday evening on the A12 is not a time to be distracted. Eventually – okay, maybe forty-five minutes later – we drew up into my drive and we got out.

"Aren't you going to tell me what it was about?"

"Hey ... well done! You held out..." I looked at my watch, "forty-five minutes."

She stamped her foot. I looked at her in surprise, eyebrow raised. She'd been so ... adult ... most of the time I'd known her that her response came as a bit of a shock. She could tell.

"I'm a teenager," she declared, "I'm allowed to stamp my feet sometimes."

I laughed. "Maybe! It's sometimes hard for me to see you as a teenager. Anyway ... no, Zoe, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to tell you what they said. Not right now, anyway. I promise it's nothing unpleasant. I'm going to suggest we go to Maldon, to the Queen's Head. Do you want to change? If we go in the restaurant you might like to be a little more formal."

She looked at me under her brows for a few seconds before deciding this was a battle she didn't want to fight. "Okay. How are you going to dress?"

"Chinos, shirt, tie," I said. "Smart casual."

"Okay ... I can do that. I didn't bring anything really formal anyway."

I took the precaution of calling the pub to make sure they had a table and we set off the eight miles or so to Maldon. The roads are very narrow, in places barely enough for two cars to pass, and twisting. It was about seven, I suppose, when we were shown to our table. Do you need the details of what we ate? I don't really remember. I had a lot to think about.

"We need to get you a ring," I told her at some point.

She smiled happily. "I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm thinking a ride on the train into London," I went on. "Like to have a look round Hatton Garden?"

Her eyes widened. "Wow!" Then, she looked thoughtful. "Alex ... I don't want a ring that's so flashy and expensive I'll be afraid to wear it."

"Good," I said, "I don't think there's a lot of point in jewellery you can't wear. But there are some small jewellers there, independents, that will design something just for you, if you like. It may be more expensive, a little, but ... it'll be unique."

Spending the night together felt right. I thought it was being complete, somehow. In fact, yes, we were two halves of a whole. I hadn't been complete without her; I just never realised.

In the morning, I woke to see her sweet face inches from mine; hair a bit tousled. Whether it was something about me – change in how I breathed, or that I moved, somehow – she woke, opening her eyes slowly, then, equally slowly, focussing on me; then, her smile spreading over her face. She stretched, sliding her body sensually against mine.

I made myself get out of bed; my bladder was protesting anyway – and she made complaining noises. When I returned she hadn't moved.

"Don't you want to go find a ring?"

"Mmmmm." She kicked back the duvet, and spread herself. It was very tempting.