So I went to see 'Carousel' at the wekend, it rocked and one of my very good friend played Julie Jordan, it was exceptional. Chapter is inspired by the way they dance around eachother in the musical, without the frills of 'Clambake' and 'June is Bustin'...this is substantially darker. Nothing belongs to me.

If I loved you,

Time and again I would try to say

All I'd want you to know.

If I loved you,

Words wouldn't come in an easy way

Round in circles I'd go!

Longin' to tell you,

But afraid and shy,

I'd let my golden chances pass me by!

Soon you'd leave me,

Off you would go in the mist of day,

Never, never to know how I loved you

If I loved you.

He had been at the palace for something over 4 years now and life was no more happier than it had been on the outside, in the army. He couldn't settle, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy the company of anyone in the place. He had as always, magaed to accquire the reputation of a player, a womaniser, a man who enjoyed fast cars and fine wines. Yet, really, truthfullly that wasn't him. The real him was in turmoil and that was where the problem really lay. He walked slowly, pondering this in his head, underneath the blistering sun. The smell of the roses in the garden was utterly overpowering in the unblearable heat. She wandered in front of him, idly fingering roses and bushes as she walked, examining them with her delicately manicured hands. Those hands, so fine - perfecting what was beauty in his eyes.

" I wish you would leave me" she sighed with intense exaperation and turned to him, "Must you follow me everywhere?"


These arguaments were becoming tiresome - and they argued like this at least once a day.

"I will tell my husband, when he returns that I do not want you following me anymore..."

"What a stupid threat -" he bit his tounge as she turned wildly on her heels, her eyes aflame with anger. Now that had been stupid, saying something like that to her.

"You know I can do it" she hissed through gritted teeth.

"Ah, but you wont," he whispered cruelly. Her eyes flickered, faltered with recognition and then fired up again. She made to open her mouth but didn't say a word, becuase she didn't know how to repond to that.

"Don't kid yourself, Your Majesty" he said quietly, " You wouldn't, and you know that."

"How dare you presume to tell me what I shall do!"

"I know you, Clarisse" he glared, "And that frightens you. Someone knowing you and following you" he ran a hand up her arm, "That petrifies you."

"Do not touch me" she hissed again, her eyes gleaming with tears, her body convulsing from the altoghether too intimate contact which threatened to betray what she felt for him, "I'll have you hanged."

"You wouldn't dare." And with that he was gone, storming off down the path. She felt as if her legs would go from underneath her as she watched him turn into the sun.

He couldn't believe he'd treated her like that, he couldn't beleive he'd touched her like that and dared so much to be near her, to drive her over the edge. She was gorgeous, sexy, stunning and nasty. Threatening to send him away like that but knowing she never would. He sighed slightly, and put the wine glass down on the bar. 4 years. They had not been particuarly kind to eachother. Her two small children, her job and all on top left her permenantly stressed and yet he felt sorry for her, because she was desperate - that lingered in her eyes.

"You look troubled" the bar man, a greasy looking man of about forty, wiped the rim of a pint glass witht he dirty corner of his apron.

"My countenance is none of your buisness," Joseph answered shortly, taking a sip of the wine.

"Only trying to be friendly," the barman grunted, slinking dejectedly to annoy someother disgrunteled character.

"That wasn't very friendly."

"No" he turned round to answer whoever had spoken. She was good looking, with strong brown eyes and dark hair. Something to drown his sorrows in perhaps?

"Julie" she held out her hand, to offer a hand shake but being so accustomed, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it. It felt nothing like Her Majesty's. Nothing like Clairsse.


"Well" she smiled as she slipped onto the stool next to him, "You must be quite the gentleman, I've never had my hand kissed before. Maybe the first impression I had of you was wrong, you seem ok."

"I am" he laughed charmingly, "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, I would", she smiled again, and removed her coat. She was gorgeous, a slinkly black dress, a curvy figure. He licked his lips, devouring the sight of her purely physical beauty.

"So, what brought you here?" she gestured round the smoke filled, noisy, gritty bar, "You look too refined for this."

"I'm at home in this," he answered, " Noise,music...intimate contact." He stood up, and pressed himself against her shoulder, "Care to dance?"

He pressed Julie hard against the wall an hour later, under the buzzingly dim street lamp, his mouth crashing onto hers, his hands under her dress. She was just as rough back, demanding the kisses he gave quite willfully. He had had one glass of wine in the end, and yet he still felt exceptionally giddy. If he closed his eyes tight enough and imagined hard enough, he could pretend it wasn't this girl he'd met in a bar, seduced in an alley - he could pretend it was Clarisse. Suddenly he realised that he couldn't do this anymore, that he was using this girl and in an oddly stupid way, he felt as if he were betraying her. He pulled back, breathing hard and stared into her face.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he breathed, "I shouldn't..."

"Don't stop," she smiled slightly, fiddling with his shirt.

"I can't," he pulled away, zipping up his trousers, "I'm sorry...I can't."

She smiled knowingly, and then pulled her dress down over her hips in the darkness of the alley, " Did you suddenly remeber you had a wfie?"

"I don't have a wife," he answered quickly, " I wouldn't do that..."

"No, sure," she smiled at him awkwardly, "Well, it was nice while it lasted..."

"Yeah. I've got to go. Can I get you a cab?"

"No, I'll walk."

He walked away then, which was not typically gallant or gentelmanly but he couldn't stay there and watch her, or stay and feel the guilt, unheeded, coursing through his veins.

He was soon at the palace and running up the stairs, heading in the direction of her bedroom. He didn't know what he was going to do when he got there but he needed to see her, he needed to feel her near him. Her door was open, as it always was and he barged in, determined and being insanely wreckless.

She spun quickly on her heels, gathering the loose folds of her silk nightcoat over her flimsy nightdress to hide herself from her unwanted intrudor.

"What on earth...", she stumbled over her words when she realised who it was. Joseph. Damn him for making her like this, for feeding all her fantasies and lust for him in just one smouldering glance. But she would not allow it - no matter how much she wanted him.

"I'm giving you a reason to get rid of me," he panted, slamming the door behind him but something in his eyes told her he had no intention of leaving and it just served to make her twinge with excitement, "I've barged into your chamber..."

"I don't want to get rid of you," she stared into his eyes, "I won't..."

"I know."

Suddenly she was against the wall, his hands pinning her wrist against it, his mouth crushing onto hers. Everything inside her was teling her to stop but yet, she was boneless and wordless and unable to protest as he kissed her wildly, almost painfully. His grip crushed her bones cruelly against her, as one hand graciously and swiftly undone the knot on her robe.

"Do you want this?" he breathed desperately in her ear, continuing his assault on her neck.

"Yes". That answer, however true with reasoning and honesty did not come from her throat, it was not her voice but she let it answer for her anyhow.

Sorry it took so long, I've had exams. Lyrics belong to the insanely talented Rogers and Hammerstein.