Chapter 2

Although our relationship was ... I'm not sure of the right word – resolved? Settled? That didn't mean Betty moved into my room. We didn't even start making love. I wanted to, but, well, I didn't have a lot of confidence in my ability to please Betty that way, and also I was very uncertain whether she'd want to, you know, before we actually married. We did begin cuddling and kissing in the evenings after Sally was in bed, and kissing in the morning before breakfast and before leaving for work, when they were staying with me. And it was very good. Revelatory, in fact. We discussed their moving to live with me full time, but decided to put that off until we were joined legally. I took care of arranging a Registry Office wedding; Betty insisted she didn't want a big fuss, just the two of us, Sally, and a friend or two from work. We couldn't do it immediately as we had to arrange leave from our employers and it ended up as over four weeks from our agreement to wed.

Before we got there, though, Betty's past came back to haunt us. She finished her shift one Thursday morning, a week before we were due to marry, collected Sally from her friend's and took her to school, to the 'breakfast club', then went home to sleep. Only to find that the normally locked door to her apartment block had been kicked in. As had the door to her flat, which was wrecked. She called me at work and I spoke to my line manager to say I had a domestic crisis to deal with. He sighed and released me to go to her.

I don't think there's any need to go into detail about what had been done, except that the damage to her personal items, clothing and such, was comprehensive. Possibly the most distressing aspect was the shredded remains of Sally's soft toys. A neighbour had reported the disturbance, and the police had attended, but the perpetrator had gone before they got there.

Betty called the police, who came and took a statement. Some of her books were salvageable, a few items of clothing ... these we collected and took to mine. She rang to say she was unable to work that night, or the next, to give the hospital time to find a stand-in.

We were both too upset to eat much, but we stopped for soup and a roll on the way. It didn't take long to move the remnants of her things from the car to her room, and when we were done, she clung to me.

"I need to sleep," she mumbled into my chest, "but I have to collect Sally in ... what ... an hour?"

"I could go," I suggested.

She shrugged. "Sorry. The school wouldn't let her go with you. I'd have to be with you and tell them you're okay. If you don't mind, we'll do that."

By the time we got to the school, she was reeling with fatigue as well as the stress of finding her home trashed. I was introduced to Sally's teacher and her aide as "My fiancé," so in future I'd be able to collect the girl. Sally took the information that she was coming back to mine with equanimity, but when, after getting home, we explained why, she broke down in tears. It was the loss of her tatty old teddy-bear, Mister Ed, (left in their flat in favour of a younger cuddly) that hit her worse than anything else, I think. Betty took her to cuddle as she caught a couple of hours' nap and I gave some thought to what we could all eat.

Sally left her mother asleep after perhaps half an hour and came to find me, demanding to be held. I picked her up and carried her into the lounge, and held her in my lap as I sat in my favourite chair. The t/v was on CBeebies, the BBC young children's channel, but Sally didn't really pay any attention to that.

"You'll be my daddy, won't you? You said you would."

"Of course I will, Sally. Always." Daffy sat with us, leaning against my leg, her head on my knee. After a while, Sally reached down and started to stroke the dog's head. When Daffy licked her, she giggled, and I mentally breathed a sigh of relief that it looked as though she was coming through the trauma. Of course, it wasn't long before she declared she was hungry. In the circumstances, I felt justified in ordering pizza delivery.

We ate pizza, and I had ice-cream in the freezer to follow. By the time Betty surfaced, we'd eaten and Sally had done the little bit of homework she'd brought home. She was sitting on my lap and reading the simple book from the school library. Betty came into the lounge with a weary smile on her face as she saw her daughter, with a book, on my lap. Sally caught the movement and looked up, saw her mother and jumped down to run to her.

"I've been reading to Daddy!"

Betty looked at me with raised eyebrows and I shrugged. "I said she could call me that when she asked. There's pizza in the kitchen, if you're hungry."

Sally chipped in, "And Daddy's got ice-cream!"

I stood. "I'll reheat the pizza, Betty. I expect Sally would like to cuddle with you."

She had her pizza while I read a bed-time story to Sally. When I finished, she asked, "Are you going to work, Mummy?"

"Not tonight, Baby."

"I was wanting to fetch Mister Ed. But I forgot to say."

Betty and I looked at each other. "Just go to bed now, Sally, there's a good girl," I said. "Tell you what, if you get your teeth cleaned... properly... and you're in your jim-jams and in bed in ten minutes, I'll read you another story. How's that?"

Sally left the room almost at a run and Betty sighed. "She's taking it quite well."

I nodded. "She's a strong little girl."

The next day, we got Sally off to school and Betty popped in to explain that they'd had a break-in at home and that Sally might become distressed. She emphasised that she, Betty, was off work and would come if needed, then we both went to the Police Station.

For some reason, they didn't want me in the room as they interviewed Betty. I could wish I'd insisted, but she handled herself well enough, apparently. The interview was over an hour, at the end of which, she signed a statement. She was unhappy when we left though.

"They seemed to think it was my fault," she fumed.

Well, in a way it was, but not a way that could justify harassing the victim of a crime. We went home via a small Italian restaurant, as it was past lunch-time. Daffy greeted us when we did get in as if we'd been away for a week.

At this point, let me tell you about my neighbour. Being who and how I am, I have never really been on more than nodding terms with my neighbours. I've occasionally given a helping hand to one of the elderly occupants of the houses each side, but we've never got much further than a smile and a 'Good morning'. The ladies concerned, one a widow, the other with a disabled husband, have from time to time pressed cakes or cookies on me and I've been happy to accept the ... variable ... offerings. More to the point, opposite my house there lived a less conventional couple. A slim, attractive, blonde teacher and her partner, who is equally attractive, but very ... solidly ... built, with short brown hair. I'd see them running most days, but never really got to know them.

Later that afternoon, as we were returning from picking Sally up from school, we bumped into the 'solid' one.

"Hello! We haven't had a chance to speak, have we? I'm Sally McKenzie."

"That's my name!" Sally blurted.

The woman smiled. "It's a very good name, isn't it?" She held out her hand to me.

"James Fletcher," I said, "and my fiancée, Betty Hardcastle."

"Delighted to meet you at last," she said, squeezing Betty's hand gently. "I won't keep you, though."

We went inside. As it was Friday evening, I suggested going out to eat, and we ended up at Mickey D's. Not my first choice for fine dining, but Sally didn't get much chance at something like that and it was a treat for her.

"Meet me ... or us ... at last?" Betty commented thoughtfully after we'd got home and Sally was in bed.

"You noticed that, too, did you? She glanced at me when she said it, but her eyes were mostly on you."

We were both silent, and Betty came to sit next to me. My arm wrapped around her as a matter or course. She snuggled in close and turned and lifted her face for a kiss, which I duly, and happily, delivered.

"Darling..."

"Yes, Precious?"

"I'm scared, a bit."

I held her a bit tighter, but I couldn't think of anything reassuring to say.

Some time later, she said, "Darling, I want to sleep with you tonight."

Well, part of me thought that was a fine idea. Another part, well, let's say I didn't want to do anything that could derail our developing relationship. "Are you sure about that, Betty? I mean..."

"I don't think you're likely to rape me, are you?"

"Well no, but..."

"I want the comfort of your arms tonight. For the rest, what will be, will be."

"Love, if that's how you feel, I'd love to sleep with you. We're beating the starting pistol by a few days, but so what?"

She looked up at me. "I didn't say we'd be having sex, Jamie."

There was a slight smile on her lips, despite her avowed anxiety, so I thought maybe I was being teased. "No, you didn't, did you? Betty, you know this ... whatever we do ... is in your hands."

She nestled her face back against my neck. "Thanks, Jamie." The words were muffled, but there was no mistake. Then she stood. "I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Don't be too long after, will you?"

"I'll follow you." I'd usually shower in the morning, but then I wouldn't usually be cuddling up to the woman I loved at night either at that point, so I thought I'd do the same as soon as she finished. I knew she wasn't one to linger over her ablutions, so I did the little tidying up that was necessary and went upstairs.

She was already in bed, so I grabbed a clean tee and boxers and went for my shower, where I didn't waste any time either.

She was in bed with the duvet pulled up to her chin when I got there. She looked me up and down. "Do something for me. Jamie?"