Never Too Old for Love

by Rosie Harris

  ‘What about your honey holiday?’ George asked. He was deeply interested in all the conversations and arrangements and was determined to make it a special occasion.

  ‘Honey holiday?’ Richard asked in bewilderment.

  ‘I think he means honeymoon,’ Delia smiled.

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ George agreed. ‘I meant your honeymoon holiday.’

  They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  ‘I don’t think we are planning to have one of those,’ his grandmother told him.

  George’s face fell. ‘Why not?’ he asked in surprise.

  ‘Well …’ Mary hesitated not knowing quite what to say.

  ‘I think it would be a very good idea,’ Bill interposed.

  ‘No, not really,’ Mary protested. ‘We are too old to fly, think of the insurance.’

  ‘We might be, but what about Richard and Delia.’

  Richard and Delia looked at each other questioningly.

  ‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ Richard said.

  ‘I think we should leave it until the weather is warmer,’ Delia said.

  ‘Easter is quite late this year, so the weather should be excellent,’ Bill said. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t thinking of flying, I was thinking of somewhere in this country and, as I just said, the weather should be pretty good.’

  ‘Well I suppose that’s a possibility,’ Mary agreed.

  ‘We could all go together and stay at the same hotel but split up each day and go off on our own and then meet up again in the evening,’ Bill suggested.

  ‘Sounds feasible,’ Richard agreed.

  ‘Of course if you wanted to go out in the evening then we would be happy to stay with George,’ Mary said quickly. She had been feeling uneasy about what they were going to do with George if they took separate holidays, but this seemed an ideal solution. Much as Mary loved George, she thought it would be asking too much of her and Bill to look after him for a whole week or perhaps even longer. If, as had been suggested, they all went away together, then they could certainly have him for the odd day so that Richard and Delia could go off on their own. Or they could keep an eye on him in the evening while Delia and Richard went out.

  Although it solved one problem it brought another. Where were they to go? It had to be somewhere they all liked and once again ideas and suggestions flowed thick and fast.

  After a great deal of deliberation, they settled on North Wales. There was sea and sand, there were castles to explore, the scenery was breath-taking and, for those with the energy to do it, there was Mount Snowdon to be climbed. That settled, the next thing on their agenda was making sure they had the right clothes to wear on their special day.

  Mary and Delia enjoyed a shopping trip together in London. Because the weddings were to be low key, they both decided on something smart but simple. Mary chose a matching dress and short jacket in a pretty shade of lilac, while Delia went for a very smart matching skirt and jacket in deep turquoise blue. Both women agreed that their outfits could be worn again afterwards and they regarded this as a boon.

  Mary chose a picture hat trimmed with artificial roses at one side. Delia didn’t like hats, but Mary persuaded her to buy a fascinator. It was little more than a velvet band the same colour as her suit and was trimmed with a concoction of feathers and lace.

  Both men were proposing to wear smart suits so they bought them new white shirts.

  ‘What is George going to wear?’ Mary asked as they travelled home on the train. ‘I suppose we should have bought him something new as well.’

  ‘I’m planning to ask Richard to buy him a new suit, but he needs to be with us when we do that. I thought perhaps dark grey with a little waistcoat and, of course, long trousers. A real man’s suit if you know what I mean.’

  ‘He’ll love that,’ Mary smiled. ‘He’s really taking an interest in all the preparations.’

  ‘Indeed he is,’ Mary laughed. ‘We’ve booked the hotel for the meal afterwards and he wanted to see the menu to make sure we hadn’t picked things he didn’t like.’

  ‘I think he’ll be too excited to eat when the time comes,’ Mary laughed.

  ‘Not George!’ Delia exclaimed. ‘He’s eating like a horse these days. I think he must have hollow legs.’

  ‘He’s a healthy growing boy,’ Mary said with a smile. They returned home feeling exhausted but happy. Apart from kitting out George, everything was done.

  ‘I’ve told them at the hospital that we are going to be away on holiday, until the beginning of May. So that Bill doesn’t get an appointment and upset all our arrangements,’ Mary said.

  Delia looked startled. ‘Did you tell them why?’

  Mary shook her head. ‘No, I just said that we would be away on holiday.’

  ‘Good!’

  ‘Why does it matter?’ Mary asked in a puzzled voice.

  Delia flushed. ‘I’d rather Peggy didn’t know, not until it is all over,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t like her turning up uninvited.’

  ‘She can hardly do that at a register office. It’s not like a church wedding where anyone can stand and watch the bride arrive or leave.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Delia said, pulling a face. ‘You don’t know Peggy like I do.’

  ‘I don’t think I want to,’ Mary said with a laugh. ‘From what little I’ve seen of her I don’t like her and George certainly doesn’t. Children often have an instinct about these things.’

  While they had been out shopping, George had made a special calendar showing how many days there were left before the wedding day.

  ‘I’m going to cross each one out so that we don’t forget when it is,’ he told them.

  ‘I don’t think we are likely to do that,’ Delia told him, with a warm smile towards Richard. ‘It might have been better if you’d made a list of jobs still to be done.’

  ‘Surely everything has been done,’ Richard frowned.

  ‘Not quite: buttonholes for you men, hairdressers for Mary and me, and then haircuts for you Richard, and Bill, and for you George.’ Delia told them. ‘Also, there is the packing to be done. That must all be ready by the night before, so that we can put it all in the boot of the car before we set off for the register office. Then, when we’ve had lunch, we can get on the road right away. It’s a long drive from here to North Wales.’

  ‘I agree with you about that,’ Richard told her. He looked concerned. ‘After a celebratory lunch I don’t think I will be in a fit state to drive. Don’t forget about drink driving.’

  Delia looked taken aback. ‘You’re right. So what are we going to do?’

  ‘We could go by train, I suppose,’ Richard suggested.

  ‘Surely we’re going to need the car to get around when we get there,’ Delia pointed out.

  ‘We could hire a car when we get there.’

  ‘And then have to come back home on the train?’

  They looked at each other and laughed. ‘Not a very good idea, is it?’ he agreed. ‘We could stay overnight in the hotel where we are having our meal and then drive up to North Wales the next morning.’

  ‘Or we could come home to sleep and start off the next morning.’

  ‘We’d better see what Mary and Bill would prefer to do,’ Delia said. ‘We still have to make sure that we are all packed and ready.’

  Richard pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘You choose whichever suits you best. As long as we are married, I don’t give a damn where we sleep as long as it is together.’

  Richard’s words kept going round and round in Delia’s mind after she got into bed. ‘I don’t give a damn where we sleep as long as it is together.’ Did he mean it?

  She wondered and worried. Apart from kissing her very passionately since they had fixed their wedding date, he had shown no signs of desire. She had to admit there were often messages in his eyes when they met hers that left her wondering if perhaps he did have deeper feelings for her than she knew. She certainly loved him, but that didn’t mean she w
as prepared to fall into his arms, not if he was merely playing the part that he thought was expected of him. To stop herself from thinking about it, she went through a mental list of all the things she had done in preparation for their wedding.

  It hit her like a punch; she had forgotten to hire a photographer. They really ought to have their pictures taken, a permanent record of such a wonderful occasion. It was probably too late to hire anyone now, perhaps she could ask somebody to take one with her mobile phone. It would be better than nothing. She must remember to put it in her handbag. What else had she forgotten? She couldn’t remember and drifted off into a restless sleep, positive that there was something.

  FORTY-SIX

  It was a pale misty morning on Easter Sunday, with the promise of a fine and sunny day ahead if the weather forecasters were to be believed. Delia was up at her usual time but the house was very quiet, so she assumed that both Richard and George were still sleeping. She and Mary had decided that Mary would bring her new outfit to their place to put on. Richard could take George around to Bill’s place, so that neither of the respective brides and grooms saw each other before they were all ready to leave for the register office.

  ‘Not quite what tradition calls for but near enough,’ Delia laughed when she told Richard of the arrangement.

  ‘You want us to meet you there?’ he suggested.

  ‘Actually, that would be even better. You drive there with Bill and George and we’ll get a taxi.’

  The ceremony was simple and straightforward, and Delia had a feeling of unreality as Richard slipped a ring on her finger and kissed her.

  ‘Mrs Wilson!’ She savoured her new name in her mind. That too sounded unreal; Mary was Mrs Wilson. Well, she had been, that was all in the past, she was now Mrs Thompson! As they emerged into bright sunlight there was a clicking of cameras from the small gathering outside. There was a crowd of smiling schoolchildren and their parents, who had heard rumours that their teacher was getting married. There was the photographer from the estate agents handling the sale of Bill’s house and various others who had come out of curiosity, when they had seen a small crowd waiting.

  With smiles and waves to everyone, the happy family followed Richard to where his car was parked and climbed in for the drive to the hotel, where they’d reserved a table for a late lunch. It was a leisurely meal and afterwards they enjoyed their coffee in the big conservatory with the doors opened wide, enjoying the sun and fresh air.

  ‘A week of weather like this would be wonderful,’ Richard said as he stretched his long legs and savoured his tea.

  ‘Certainly better than all the fuss of flying off somewhere and then finding it was too hot for us,’ Bill agreed. Before they parted they arranged what time they would meet the next morning for the start of their journey to North Wales.

  By now, Delia was feeling nervous, wondering what the next few hours were going to bring and almost wishing they had decided to leave for North Wales right after the ceremony.

  Persuading George to go to bed at his usual time seemed to be out of the question. He was still excited and so full of questions that they played board games to try and calm him down.

  Then, much later than usual, he finally capitulated and agreed that he was tired and ready to go to bed, as long as Richard promised to come up and read him a story.

  Once Richard agreed, George flung his arms around Delia’s neck to kiss her goodnight.

  ‘Do I call you mummy now or Delia?’ he asked innocently.

  Delia felt nonplussed.

  ‘Mummy of course,’ Richard said without hesitation.

  ‘What happens if I forget and call her Delia?’ George asked.

  ‘Why would you do that?’ Richard asked. ‘You have always said you wanted to be able to call her mummy.’

  ‘I do, I do,’ George protested.

  ‘You can call me either,’ Delia said quickly, hoping to settle the discussion.

  ‘Bed!’ Richard said firmly. ‘Right now, or there won’t be any story.’

  While Richard read a story to George, Delia tidied around and then left everything ready for the morning, so that they could keep to the early start they’d arranged with Bill and Mary. It was almost nine o’clock and she could hear Richard still reading aloud, so she decided to have a bath. She lay back in the hot water trying not to think about the next few hours. The water was so soothing that she closed her eyes, and relaxed. She stifled a small scream when she felt someone soaping her body.

  ‘Can I come in with you?’ Richard said softly in her ear. She giggled and opened her eyes to find Richard standing beside the bath. She felt perfectly at ease as he divested himself of clothes and slid into the bath at her side. It was very cramped but they lay with their arms around each other and relaxed in the hot water, content to kiss and talk for the next twenty minutes.

  Then, because the water was no longer hot, they got out and Richard wrapped her in a big fluffy bath towel and carried her over to the bed. They made love as if their bodies were already attuned to each other, as though they knew exactly how to please one another, as if they had had a lifetime of making love to each other. Delia experienced none of the embarrassment or awkwardness she had feared. They drifted off to sleep, still entwined in each other’s arms. It was a deep dreamless sleep of utter contentment.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  They were all up and ready to leave the next morning at the agreed time. George was a little tetchy because he had had such a late night, but once they were on the road he snuggled down between Bill and Mary in the back of the car and dozed off again. They made three stops for refreshments and to admire the spectacular views, and give George a chance to run around and use up some of his energy.

  They arrived at their hotel in time for an evening meal, bed for George, unpacking and then a short walk for Richard and Delia. Bill and Mary were feeling worn out and happy to stay and have a quiet drink, listen out for George and then have an early night.

  The week that followed was a panorama of castles and filled with excitement. George never grew tired of visiting castles. Harlech Castle and Caernarvon Castle were his two favourites. Harlech was one because it had such a grey and mysterious look about it. George was fascinated by Bill’s story that – when invaders tried to take it – those who had taken refuge inside it would pour boiling oil down from the battlements over them, to stop them entering. Caernarvon Castle was a favourite with them all. The picturesque view of the river, packed with small boats that ran alongside and the wonderful outlook over the Welsh mountains, made them linger there for an entire day.

  At first, George wasn’t too pleased at having to spend a day climbing Mount Snowdon.

  ‘There must be some more castles that we haven’t seen,’ he protested. ‘I love castles. I wish I could be a knight and live in one.’

  When they did reach Snowdon however, he stared up at it in awe and was more eager than any of them to climb up it. Bill and Mary decided that it would be too much for them, so they would take the train that carried people right to the top. They would sit there and enjoy a cup of coffee, until Richard, Delia and George reached the top. It was a long, hard climb and several times they had to stop and have a rest. At one point, Richard thought he was going to have to carry George who was loudly complaining that his legs were hurting.

  Yet all this was forgotten when they reached the top and joined Bill and Mary in the café. George was proud of his achievement and devoured a bun and a cake, as well as an ice-cream, to give him the energy to walk back down.

  ‘We’re not going to walk down,’ Delia told him. ‘Oh no, we’re going to take the train.’

  ‘We could walk, Daddy, and Delia could go with Grandma,’ George said looking hopefully at Richard who shook his head.

  ‘No, we are all going on the train. I want to find out what it’s like; it’s quite different from the big trains we’re used to.’

  George was also impressed by their visit to Llandudno and the Great Orme and happy t
o spend an entire day there. Before they came home, they spent a day at Llangollen and found time to visit Owain Glyndwr’s Mount. Bill once again told him wonderful historical story, about the man who had been the last true Welshman to be Prince of Wales, and who had fought the English King Henry IV in an attempt to keep the English out of Wales.

  ‘He lost,’ Bill told him, ‘and was driven from his stronghold, but managed to avoid capture.’

  ‘I can see when we get back home we are going to have to change out bedtime stories,’ Richard laughed. ‘After the tales you’ve been telling him since we came up here, Bill, he will want something quite different.’

  ‘It’s not a bad way to learn history,’ Bill said.

  All too soon the holiday was over. They broke the tedium of the long drive back by taking a detour so that they could take George to see Cardiff Castle.

  ‘It looks a bit like Windsor Castle, but not as grand, it hasn’t got a Round Tower,’ he told them.

  ‘No, but it has got the original old castle still there in the grounds,’ Richard told him pointing out the Norman Keep that stood a few yards away. From Cardiff they picked up the M4 motorway and in less than three hours were home again.

  Delia was glad that they had had the ‘honey holiday’, as George persisted in calling it. The break from home and familiar surroundings made it easier to accept the changes in their relationship when they returned home. They dropped Bill and Mary at Mary’s house and arranged to see them the following week.

  It no longer seemed strange, when it came to bedtime, for her and Richard to share the same room and it seemed perfectly right to be sharing the same bed.

  It might be the start of a new way of life, but it was now accepted by all of them.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  My thanks to Robert Harris and Carmel Bevan for their help in preparing the manuscript and also to my agent Caroline Sheldon and to Megan Middleton of the Caroline Sheldon Literary Agency.