‘For you’ Nathan grins and thrusts cellophane wrapped bunched of flowers at Stephanie as soon as she opens the door.

‘The garage got a sale on?’ she laughs and takes the flowers, burying her face in them to breathe their scent.

‘Yes, if you must know’ He closes the door and turns back scowling.

‘Aaaw, come on. Don’t go all sulky on me. It was a lovely thought’

‘No, they’re cheap and crap’ Nathan snatches them back and drops them into the waste bin next to the telephone table.

‘Nath-an!’

‘It was a dumb-arse idea. If you want flowers, I’ll send you flowers, proper ones’

‘I want these!’ she says, bending to take them out of the bin and carefully smoothing the crushed petals ‘You saw them and thought of me, so you bought them. That means a lot more than something big and flash. They’re lovely. Thank you.’ She smiles and dots a kiss on his cheek.

‘Then why make a crack?’ Nathan puts a hand either side of her waist and looks down at her with half closed eyes.

‘Because that’s you’ Stephanie slaps him playfully on the chest. ‘Normally, anyway. You do something nice and nine times out of ten you spoil it by getting all self-conscious and saying something goofy. I was only doing the same. Sorry’

‘You will be’

‘I’d better put them in water’ she says, breaking away and heading for the kitchen ‘Did you want a drink or are we going straight out?’

‘Your Dad in?’ Nathan peers into the study as they pass.

‘No, they’re both out...some ecumenical social gathering or other, don’t ask me’ Stephanie takes a vase from the cupboard under the sink and fills it with water ‘Not often they both get to go to these things, it’s usually just Dad and all very serious and saintly. This time they get bread, wine AND cheese with their prayers’

‘Why do you do that?’ he asks, lounging against the doorjamb and watching her.

‘Do what?’ she mumbles absently as she cuts the cellophane away from the flowers with scissors from the earthenware pot on the windowsill.

He eases himself upright and walks towards her. ‘Take the piss out of your religion when you’re talking to me’

‘Saves you doing it’ she grins over her shoulder.

‘When have I ever...’

‘No, that was unfair’ she tilts her head and smiles softly ‘you haven’t’

‘So, don’t do it’ 

‘Okay’ Stephanie concentrates on sorting out the flowers, removing some of the lower leaves and snipping the ends of the stems before positioning each in the vase.  ‘I suppose it’s because I expect you to think the way I do sometimes’ she says with a light shrug ‘And come out with some line or another...you know...about rolling out of bed and straight into church on Sunday mornings, ‘Call yourself a Christian, woman. Ha ha ha’’ She places the last of the flowers and lifts the vase clear of the draining board as she looks at him. ‘It doesn’t hang together, does it?’

‘Not sure that’s quite how I’d put it’ Nathan grins and his eyebrows jump.

She sighs in exasperation as she puts the vase on the worktop and begins to tidy the sink. ‘I thought we were talking seriously? See...there you go again.’ Her hand lifts, palm up. ‘Case proved’

‘Sorry...And I wouldn’t...ever say anything like that, I mean. Can’t say I’ve ever thought it either’ he says with a pensive frown ‘You go to church, you do churchy things. I’m okay with that. It’s you who feels guilty about it’

‘Who said I felt guilty?’ Stephanie turns to disagree while she funnels leaves and pieces of stem into an empty ice-cream container ready for the compost.

‘You must do or you wouldn’t be thinking like that. It’s fine....we’ll forget about Saturday night stopovers’ he takes a step backwards and presses the pedal on the waste bin to open it ready for her to toss the crumpled cellophane in. ‘Simples!’

‘But Saturday nights are....’

‘Pretty bloody special...’ Nathan responds to her distrustful stare by putting his arms around her ‘BUT so are your Sunday mornings, so we’ll give it a rest. We’re only talking a few weeks’ he reminds her, rubbing his nose against hers ‘And it won’t matter how much fornicating we do before you rush off to communion’

‘Fornicating’ she splutters, covering her mouth with her hand and laughing.

‘That’s me in biblical mode’ he grins and lets his arms drop ‘Look...seriously...right? If you’d feel better about things if you went home, then you go home. You only had to say. What am I, some sort of ogre or something?’

Her eyes bright, she lays her hand against his cheek. ‘That’s the last thing you are’

Nathan looks down at his feet and with his hands crossed and clasped together in front of him, twists from side to side in a parody of embarrassment and shyness. ‘Aaw shucks, Ste-phan-ie!’

‘Idiot’

The Vicarage, Oatfield

Chapter Forty-one

Rose Cottage, Albans Lane

‘But yer don’t need them cerstificates, do yer’ George sits at Jessie’s elbow while she searches the site. ‘You knows who them are, yer don’t need go wastin money on what yer knows it a’ready’

‘No’ says Jessie patiently ‘But I want to make sure they’ve all got Willis on. I don’t want any more surprises like I got with our Clifford’

‘Blimey!’ he laughs ‘the gal’d ‘ave t’go some if she give any more a you lot t’yer mum fer lookin arter. She were barely old enough t’be ‘is mother’

‘I know that’ her neck arches and she blinks at him witheringly ‘I just want to make sure, that’s all. Besides....’ she says, putting a tick next to a name on the notepad beside the keyboard and laying her biro down ‘it’s practice. The more I look for things, the easier it’ll get and the better I’ll be at it. This is the easy bit’ She squints at the monitor, looking between it and the keys as she carefully types in more details ‘it’s when I go back a bit further I’ve got to be careful and make sure of everything. Then I’ll need the certificates to check I’m right’

‘Gor blimey...’ George continues to chortle ‘you on’y got t’go round the churchyard wi’a bit o’paper an’ a pencil, its full a Coopers an’ folk called Willis’ He unwraps a fruit drop from the paper bag in his cardigan pocket and pops it in his mouth, slurping it into the pouch of his cheek while he finishes speaking ‘They must a got a discount, I reckon’ The sweet rattles against his teeth as he sucks.

‘I’ll give you discount’ Jessie purses her lips and holds out her hand.

The bag rustles as he digs out another fruit drop ‘’Spect they was glad when telly were invented’ he snorts and ceremoniously places the sweet in the centre of her palm.

‘You’ve got no room to talk!’ She pulls at the cellophane twists to unwrap it ‘There’s enough bloomin’ Harris’s in there as well, don’t forget’

‘Dug ‘ole fer some of ‘em’ he says with a shrug of indifference.

‘That’s quite sad, really’

‘Money’s money’

‘You would think like that, wouldn’t you?’ Jessie clicks her tongue. ‘What was it, bow your head, drop ‘em in and nip of to the vestry to change out of your suit so you could fill them in again?’

‘If I were quick, there were still some ‘am left t’be ‘ad be time I got t’the wake’ He folds his arms and rests them on his stomach.

‘That’s all you think of, that is. Money and your belly’

‘We knowed ‘ow t’do it proper an’ all! Weren’t a good funeral if yer went ‘ome sober’

‘You get drunk at mine’ She turns from the monitor to fix him with a glare ‘and I’ll come back and haunt you!’

George takes a second to reply ‘I’m goin first. I shan’t want t’live wi’out yer, gal’ he says quietly.

Jessie rolls her eyes and looks away, touched nevertheless. ‘Talking of money... which we were before you had a go at being romantic.... It’s about time you made a decision about your house. It’s falling to bits, sitting there with nobody in it to keep things up together....not that that bothered you much before...but the longer you leave it, the worse it’ll get and you won’t get so much for it’

‘I know, I know’ he mutters.

‘It’s no good you keep saying ‘I know’, that doesn’t get anything done, does it?’ She leaves what she is doing and sets her hands in her lap.

‘All them bloomin’ jobs you said wanted doin’s putting me off’ George admits, flushing at being put on the spot.

‘All I said was that if you wanted to get a better price, they needed to be done. I said nothing about you having to do them. Sell it as it is or tart it up first but for goodness sake get something done with it before it gets that bad you end up having to give the darned thing away’

‘But it’s handy if I wants a quick Jimmy Riddle as I’m up the shops’ he huffs a protest.

‘Oh...let’s keep it then. I mean to say, public toilets aren’t a patch on the three bedroom variety. What was I thinking of’

George glowers as she turns back to the computer. ‘No need t’get sarcaustic’

‘Just do it, George. Make a decision one way or the other. You’ve been whinging on about how much it’d cost to go over and see John, when you’ve got all that money just sitting there’

‘Nag, nag, nag. Tha’s all yer seem t’do’

‘I’ve got flipping cause to’ Jessie bites back. Silence falls between them and she sits frowning at the screen, her hand on the mouse and moving the cursor from one box to the next as she checks her typing for mistakes.

‘Wha’s up?’ George sits forward, glad to let the subject of houses drop.

‘I can’t find Audrey...I’m sure I’ve got the date right. Nineteen-seventeen she was born but there’s nothing here for her at all. I’ve tried before and after just in case I’ve remembered wrong but there’s still nothing’

‘I think p’raps you ‘ad enough fer tonight. Very likely you ain’t lookin right cos you’s tired. Ave another go in the mornin’

‘I do know what I’m doing!’ she says crossly, jabbing at the entries in her notebook in turn ‘Francis, John, Hilda, William, Irene, they’re all there...but no Audrey’

‘P’raps they never put ‘er name down’ George stands up and returns his chair to the dining table. ‘Yer never know’ he says, coming back to retrieve his spectacle case and tucking his glasses into it, presuming the evening to be coming to a close.

‘They had to...I read that in my book.’ Stubbornly determined, Jessie retypes the search details.

‘Best you ask someone what knows where else t’look.’ He leans one hand on the back of her chair and watches the screen with her as they wait for the results.

‘She should be here!’ she howls and hits the desk in frustration when the same entries show.

‘Alright, keep yer ‘air on. I dunno what t’suggest, thought maybe they’d know one a two wrinkles, tha’s all’

‘There aren’t any ’wrinkles’ as you put it. A birth is a birth is a birth and it’s not here’ Jessie snaps.

‘Gor Blimey, woman! Time I got the cocoa, I reckon. Shut the thing off. Damned machine’s more trouble than it’s bloomin’ well worth. You know when she were born, what more do yer want?’