Chapter 11

Delia woke to an unfamiliar feeling of contentment. It took a few moments for her brain to catch up and connect the feeling to the warm body next to her, the person she was half lying on. She lay there, ignoring her body's call to empty her bladder, revelling in the sense of security he gave her. She moved slightly and her thigh brushed his erect penis. She smiled; no problems there, then...

His eyes opened and met hers. Her heart sank a little as he frowned, then he asked, "Was I dreaming, or did I ask you to marry me last night?"

"You weren't dreaming," Delia said, as lightly as she could. "Do you want to take it back?"

"What? No! But I seem to remember you said 'yes'. Do you want to change your mind?"

Her heart lifted. 'He still wants me!' "No ... although if you were to want to convince me, I wouldn't mind..."

He let out the breath he'd been holding in a sigh of relief. "Are you working today?"

"Just an hour this morning."

"Will you have lunch with me? Then look for a ring?"

"Yes ... and yes. Can I have a kiss?"

"Morning breath..."

"I don't care if you don't..."

It was too new and too exciting for them to be put off by morning breath, though all they did was kiss and caress each other...

Over breakfast, Delia asked, "Do you mind if I make us an appointment at the Rectory when I go to Matins?"

"Not at all. In fact ... why don't I come with you?"

Her face lit up. "That'd be lovely, Gerry!"

Her lady of the day was Edna, who only had to take one look at her. "Ah, my dear. You ... woke up and smelt the coffee, didn't you!"

"Mrs. Brown! How did you know?"

"Simple. You're positively glowing this morning. Now. I'd like you to tackle the pantry this morning, then we'll have some tea and you can tell me all about it..."

Emptying the pantry, wiping down the shelves and spraying the small area of mildew in one corner, took the best part of an hour. Edna prevented her from replacing the contents, saying she wanted to sort through and dispose of some of it. As the kitchen was, as a result, piled up with cans, pots, bottles and bins containing various foodstuffs, they took a tray of tea into the lounge.

"You know," Edna commented, "when I was a little girl, we hardly ever used the sitting room. Partly, I suppose, because we didn't heat it except for special occasions, but mostly because it was kept for best; to entertain the Rector, say, or the Doctor. Nowadays, it's ... just another room, more comfortable than the kitchen chairs. But now ... tell, girl. All the gory details!"

"Oh, nothing gory," Delia laughed, then, smiling, went on, "not yet, anyway!" More seriously, she continued, "While he was away sailing, I thought about things. I was going to prepare a really nice supper for him when he came home. But ... he came in and said he was going out for supper. Going out with the skipper he'd been sailing with. To make it worse, it was a woman. I was really, really disappointed and upset. While he was out I went to bed early with a book, but must have dropped off. I suppose I was dreaming, and weeping in my sleep, because when he came home he heard me, came into my room and woke me. I told him, confessed I loved him, and he said he loved me too. And ... asked me to marry him. But he was so tired, he fell asleep next to me. I think, this morning, when we woke, we were both afraid it had been a dream. But it wasn't, and we're going to buy a ring this afternoon and see Peter Hanson about getting married."

"How wonderful, and how romantic," Edna said, a little wistfully. "I hope you'll send me an invitation!"

"Of course! How could I not!"

Gerry was waiting for her in 'Portholes', the Queen's Head restaurant. He stood as he saw her enter, and when she reached him, stretched out his hand and gently traced the line of her jaw with her fingers. The touch, the gesture, made her weak at the knees and she closed her eyes, which were prickling with incipient tears. He stepped round and drew out her chair for her; she sat, gratefully, unable to prevent a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Darling?" his voice was gentle, freighted with loving concern.

"I ... will explain in a minute. Let's order, shall we?"

She refused to speak as they ate, merely saying, "I'd like to just enjoy the meal."

Afterwards, she suggested walking a little way along the prom to find a bench where they could sit and talk without an audience.

Once they were settled, she took a deep breath and began to tell him about her life prior to meeting him. Some of it, he already knew. What he hadn't known, he'd inferred anyway, so there were no real surprises, but he said nothing, just sitting with a neutral expression.

Eventually, she wound down, and finished by saying, "So, you see, when you touched me, so gently, it was so ... loving, so ... intimate ... that it brought home to me, how I'd never known what it was to love. All the ... I don't know what to call it, now, frantic ... sensual-ism, I suppose ... was so meaningless and at the cost of ... dehumanising others for our pleasure. I feel so ... unworthy. She was hunched, hands clasped in her lap.

Finally, when she'd clearly finished, he gently drew her to him with one arm, the other hand separating hers to hold one. He placed a kiss on her head and inhaled the scent of her hair.

"Darling?" He spoke quietly. "It's history. It's over. You've owned up to your faults and leaned over backwards to try to make restitution. There are consequences, to be sure, and you'll always have the memories and the regrets, but it's time to look forward, not back. You're becoming the person you were meant to be; a lovely, gentle, caring person, a person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"Really? I thought ... I was sure you'd hate me when you knew."

"I knew, or suspected, all of it. But, you see, I've only seen the new you, and the new Delia is, well, everything I want in a wife, partner ... soul-mate. Now. I want to show you something." He rummaged in a pocket and came up with a small box – the sort of thing a ring might be kept in, and handed it to her.

When she opened it, there was a ring nestling there; severely simple and slim, widening to accommodate three small rose-cut diamonds. She looked her question at him.

"Do you like it?" His question clearly was more than the simple words.

"Yes, I do. Very much."

"It was my great-grandmother's engagement ring," he said. "I don't want to short-change you, but ... would you like it?"

"I ... Yes, I would. Very much."

He stood, releasing her, and carefully lowered himself onto one knee in front of her.

Smiling, he looked into her eyes, "I had to practice that. I don't want there to be any doubt about this. Delia, will you marry me?"

"With everything I've told you, knowing all that, you still want to marry me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then ... yes, Gerry. I will gladly marry you."

She was still holding the open ring-box; he reached and took the ring out and slipped it on her finger. Resting a hand on her knee for balance, he then rose to his feet and held out his hand to her. "Let's walk. If we're not shopping, I want to show off my fiancée."

They arrived at the door of the Rectory in good time, to be greeted by Peter Hanson.

"Come in..." he led them to the lounge. "Dulcie will be here shortly, but I want to talk to you first. The Church of England is in an odd position regarding you ... any divorcee, actually. Canon Law says NO! But the Anglican Church is the established Christian church in England, and subject to English Law, which says, emphatically, YES! In a typical compromise, Synod has passed the buck and the long and short of it is that the decision is now left to the discretion of the incumbent. In this case, that's me. I need to hear from you, really, your stories about your previous marriages, why they went wrong and why you want to marry again in church. Now, I don't need the whole story from you, Delia ... I suppose Gerry here already knows it?"

Delia nodded. "I wouldn't have sought a divorce, but I wasn't going to oppose Jack when he wanted one. Now I have found a meaningful faith, I'd like to make my promises on the basis of that faith."

Peter nodded, "And I know you well enough to believe you will work hard to fulfil your promises. Gerry? I don't know you so well."

"No. And that's because, though I couldn't avoid the Faith my family ... most of my family ... espoused, it's never been the priority for me it was for, say, my grandfather. I believe, but until Grandad died, I didn't really see the relevance. I have to believe, though, that God brought me here and ... gave me Delia. It was worth losing a leg to find her. I was married, but Jean ... well, it's hard for a woman to cope with the life of a military wife. I divorced her, not because I wanted to get rid of her, but because that's what she wanted and she'd provided the justification in British law."

"Very well, then. It's my judgement that the two of you are entering this commitment as sincerely and seriously as you possibly can, so I am happy to authorise your wedding at St. Mary's. Do you want to arrange the banns now? Yes? Then excuse me for a moment."

He left and shortly after Dulcie entered the room. "Congratulations, both of you. I'm very happy for you. Shall we talk about arrangements?"

Having discussed various matters, been given the phone number for the organist and handed over a cheque for the assorted fees payable, they were about to leave.