Chapter 18

In the meanwhile Dorothy had been feeling guilty. She felt strongly about Arthur, strongly loving, she surmised. As she had honestly said, she did not go to bed with men on a one night stand basis and all of them had had a lot of attraction for her. She did enjoy sex but somehow with Arthur it had been different. There was more warmth and gentleness although that had gone out of the window once or twice. After he had made love to her she wanted more than a perfunctory kiss and spooning up. The other thing was that she really looked forward to just being with him; talking with him, laughing with him, sympathising with each other, sparring intellectually with him.

"I just want to be with him," she thought, "so how do I reconcile the problems? The only big one is Larry and children. There are lots of working mums who don't desert their children. Primary schools cater for them. I could still work and look after them. All this is in the future though. Larry might end up with us but the legal proceedings would take time and as far as children of our own are concerned we can plan that."

She pondered all this for several days before the realisation dawned. Arthur had shown keenness but then resignation. It might be that his ardour had cooled although not his physical ardour. She could not bottle it up any longer.

The next Wednesday evening Arthur came to supper with her. As they still sat at the kitchen table with the last of the wine and a cup of coffee she reached for his hand.

"Arthur, when we last really talked about the future I was worried about balancing being a mother and still doing the job I love.

Arthur started to interrupt. She squeezed his hand.

"Hold on a minute. You said that there was still some reluctance on your part to enter into another relationship that could go wrong and that Larry had to feature. We agreed to see how things would work out."

"Yes."

"Arthur, I was being selfish. If Larry was to come to us I could still look after him without any effect on your job or mine. The same with children of our own although that would mean prolonged absences from work but teeth are teeth and I'm sure I could quickly catch up again on dental advances."

Arthur's eyes lit up and his hand turned under hers to grasp it. He looked into her eyes for any dissembling and saw none.

His mind raced. He loved Dorothy but was he really ready to take the risk? It was clear that she was prepared to live with him as a partner. That was not good enough for him. He wanted to give and receive the commitment that marriage should entail. It had not worked before but this time there had been a meeting of thought, intellect and indeed souls.

"W-will you marry me, Dorothy?"

"Yes, Arthur. I will. I love you."

Arthur moved round the corner of the table pulling her to her feet as he did so. He took her gently in his arms and kissed her softly.

There was a brief moment as they looked into each other's eyes before their hug became passionately strong. They held each other desperately reflecting the reticence that both had felt about giving themselves to anyone else.

"Thank you, Dorothy. I love you."

"I've loved you for some time too but wouldn't let myself go fully."

"I can understand that. I was pretty cagey too."

"Would you like some more wine to celebrate?"

Arthur looked at her and she laughed.

"I didn't think so. Come on then. Bed, you dirty old man."

Arthur laughed happily, swept her off her feet and carried her up to bed.

The following Saturday morning Arthur and Dorothy with Larry in tow went hunting for an engagement ring while Isobel and Gerry were hunched over Isobel's laptop.

They found the Law Society Gazette which showed a number of vacancies in Family Law in London.

"Are you a member?" asked Isobel. "Because I'm not."

"Yes I am."

"Over to you, sir. Get the details of what they're showing and on Monday ring them up and see if they've got anything under the counter."

"Yes, miss. Very good, miss. Anything you say, miss."

Isobel flung her arms round his neck.

"Sorry, my sweet. I was being bossy. Kiss?"

"Smacked botty I'd have said."

"Whichever, my lord and master."

"Both, I should think."

"Yum!"

"You are a wicked, winsome girl. I think a kiss will do."

Isobel obliged: at length and with love.

They joined Gerry's parents for lunch at the Crown the next day and Isobel broached the subject. Hermoine was ambivalent.

"It's up to you and Gerry, Whizzy," she said adding with a smile, "The first major decision. All I would say is don't rush it although you probably need to have made a decision by the time you marry."

Isobel decided not to mention anything to Henry until she had more information from Gerry's investigations. He had little for her on Monday evening. He had been rushed off his feet all day. On Tuesday though he had more.

"There are only four vacancies in the London area at the moment," he said. "Two of those are in north London and you'd spend a lot of time travelling there from Putney everyday. There's another one at Greenwich but the same applies really. There is one at Wimbledon which would be quite easy to commute to and you would be going in the opposite direction to most other commuters. There's another thing though, Whizzy, my flat is minute and basic. If you are going to move up I ought to start looking out for something a bit bigger. We couldn't even get a double bed in the present bedroom."

Isobel giggled. "Very cosy though."

"Very but we'd never sleep."

"Spoilsport."

"But practical."

"As ever. Gerry, we can't live apart during the week all our married lives. I've got to move up."

"OK. I'll start flat hunting in the same area. Here are the details of the job at Wimbledon."

He gave them to her. "I'll get in touch with them tomorrow," she said, "and, depending on first impressions and what they have to say, I'll warn Henry."

"Don't rush that, Whizzy."

"I won't but you never know; he may have some contacts that Sir Norman didn't."

"That's true."

She was not over-impressed when she rang the firm the next day. The receptionist was clueless and the senior partner's secretary was less than welcoming. She did however undertake to ask the senior partner to return her call when he was free. That occurred some forty-five minutes later.

"Good morning, Miss Harris. James Wilkinson. What can I do for you?"

"Another black mark for the secretary," thought Isobel. "She knew damned well the reason for my call."