‘Oh, George.’ She moved a little further into the room. ‘I wish you had told me.’
As if catapulted from the middle of the room, George moved to her, taking her arms in his hands, cradling her elbows, his thumbs stroking the soft part of her upper arms. He felt like he was going to burst. He had to tell her. ‘I love you, Millie, more than anything. I would do anything for you. Please believe me, please give me a chance to prove it. I promise…’
A tiny smile appeared on Millie’s lips.
Anxious hope began to blossom in George. ‘I promise I will keep nothing from you ever again. I promise I will always do everything I can to make you happy. I…’
Millie reached up to his face and placed a finger across his lips. ‘I believe you, George Halcyon. Now will you stop your blethering and kiss me.’
George was in heaven. The warmth of her breath on his face, the softness of her lips, the strength of her tongue as his kiss grew more demanding. It was all more passionate than he had dared to dream. He wanted her… now. His hands moved to explore her back. She did the same with him and they groaned together.
‘Ahem,’ a discreet cough behind them stopped their passion with a jolt. ‘Sorry to disturb you.’ Owen was standing in the doorway. ‘The food is nearly ready, and your mum has sent me through with the first of the vegetables.’
‘God no! Sprouts.’
Millie laughed and Owen said, ‘Afraid so. You will not escape them.’
Owen placed the vegetables on the table and left for the kitchen again.
‘Well, that’s that then,’ George muttered, scowling at the Brussels, though his change of mood had nothing to do with them, really. ‘Perhaps we could go for a walk after the meal,’ he said, adding hopefully, ‘Have some more time on our own?’
‘Or we could go back to my place for an hour or two. The girls have gone to their families for Christmas.’
‘You mean we can?’
‘Yes, George…’ Flushed and smiling, Millie added, ‘You’ve talked yourself into my bed.’
The turkey,roasted golden, sat in the centre of the table. Crammed in all around it were the other dishes: pigs in blankets, chipolatas, two types of stuffing, roast potatoes–crispy golden, and a whole selection of different vegetables.
Owen leant to Millie and whispered, ‘See what we would both have missed if you hadn’t come back with me.’
Under the cover of the tablecloth, she squeezed his thigh and whispered, ‘Thank you, Owen. You are the best.’
He whispered back, ‘No, I’m not. George is.’
‘Breast or leg?’ Sally asked, waving the carving knife over the bird.
‘Breast please, Mum.’
‘Me too,’ Millie added.
‘Leg or breast lovie?’ Sally asked Owen.
‘Don’t mind either,’ he said, downing his glass of Champagne in one.
‘You missed the Queen’s speech,’ Sally said, slicing turkey breast onto Owen’s plate, and adding a couple of chipolatas.
‘I’m sorry, that was my fault,’ Millie said.
Owen shook his head. ‘Not a problem. I don’t think she would have missed me.’ He nodded his thanks to George for refilling the glass.
They all helped themselves to vegetables, George avoiding the sprouts. They downed the Champagne, and George, accompanied by cheers, popped the cork on another bottle.
‘This is a great meal,’ Owen said to Sally.
‘Thank you, lovie.’
‘Best Christmas dinner I’ve ever had.’
