‘I’ve got to make the tea before we meet my sister and Tony in the pub. Besides, I’m sure the neighbours must be whispering about us, drawing the curtains every Saturday afternoon and never emerging until it’s time for church next day.’
‘Let them talk.’ Charlie rolled on top of her and started kissing her neck. ‘They’re just jealous.’
‘You think old Mrs Barraclough next door wants you for herself?’
‘Of course she does. The woman’s only human, even if she is seventy-four.’
Bobby smiled as he started nibbling her earlobe. ‘Leave off that a minute.’
‘I thought you liked that.’
‘I do, but give up. I want to look at you.’
Charlie detached himself from her ear to look into her face.
‘What’s up, love?’ he asked gently.
‘Nothing.’ She drew her fingers over the deep white flak scar on his cheek, a permanent reminder of his last fateful mission. ‘I just want to remember how you look right now. I do love you, Charlie.’
He smiled. ‘I know you do. What’s got you talking soft?’
‘I suppose I was thinking… will it always be like this?’
‘I might not be quite so sprightly in the bedroom in another sixty years, but other than that, I don’t see why not.’
‘I just worry about how things will change when Marmaduke arrives. I mean I can’t wait to be a mam and dad together, but…’ She looked into Charlie’s dark brown eyes, which always looked a little sad these days even when he was smiling. ‘It won’t change anything between us, will it?’ she whispered.
He stroked back her hair. The puckered, leathery skin of his burnt arm felt rough against her cheek.
‘Of course it won’t, except for the better. Why should it?’
‘Only I see Lil so washed out all the time, forever worrying about money, and I wonder how I’m going to cope. I rely on my job to give my brain something to do, and to have to replace that with—’ She bit her lip.
‘With what? Motherhood?’
The word that had actually risen to Bobby’s tongue had been ‘drudgery’, but she didn’t say this to Charlie.
‘Things are so nice now, just the two of us, loving each other,’ she said. ‘I want it to always be that way, even with a baby to share it. I don’t want to become a cross, tired, frumpy wife who you’ll find it hard to stay in love with.’
He smiled. ‘Do you ever stop worrying about what might happen and try to enjoy what you’ve got?’
‘I try, but I’m a worrier by nature. As soon as one problem’s solved, my brain throws up another.’
‘Well now it’s throwing up problems that won’t exist, if you’re talking about me finding it hard to love you.’ He tapped her temple. ‘I’d have a stern word with that overworked old brain of yours if I were you. You’re not doing yourself or Marmaduke any favours worrying about what-ifs.’
‘You’re right. I’m being daft.’ She tilted her head. ‘You can take my mind off it by kissing my ear again if you like.’
‘I do,’ Charlie said, burrowing into her hair. ‘Tell me about your day while I do it. I want to see how long it’ll take me to distract you.’
Bobby shivered as his lips tickled her skin. ‘Well, it began with your brother saying he wanted to talk to me and Tony, which put the fear of God into me for a start. I was worried one of us was for the chop. But he just wanted to tell me I was being promoted, and we were to have a new office in George Parry’s shed.’
‘A shed?’ Charlie murmured, trailing his fingertips delicately over her lightly rounded stomach. ‘That doesn’t sound comfortable.’
‘It’s a very nice shed,’ Bobby said, somewhat defensively. If she was to be a deputy editor, she didn’t want anyone casting aspersions on the workplace she’d be in charge of. ‘It’s an old shepherd’s hut, quite big. Reg has had it done up for us.’
‘You went to see it, then?’
‘Yes, Tony and I went over after work.’ She experienced a pleasant shiver as his lips moved to her shoulder. ‘How was your day?’
