Call the Midwife - FF 100, 2/100
Universe - Canon
Series 2 spoilers - None
The Very Stuff of Life
Prompt: 07. Days
When the two of them had booked the honeymoon, four days had seemed like a long enough time to have off to be together. Peter and his betrothed, Camilla, had spoken it through and they decided to go to Ramsgate.
Just by the coast. Just the two of them. For just, four days.
On the first day the two of them barely had time to do anything after the drive down, having set off after getting married that morning. After they had unpacked at the B'n'B, the two of them walked back to a bistro they had passed along the way and then toasted their beginning married life together.
They were man and wife.
After the meal the two of them went down to the beach, and walked bare foot in the sand while the sun set.
"We're not in Poplar any more, are we?" the ecstatic bride had smiled to her husband.
The next day the two of them had returned to the beach, Peter sporting a red bathing suit he had worn one summer in Brighton, Chummy, collates and a loose fitting top, which he commented covered nearly covered as much as her rain coat had that day.
The two of them frolicked in the sea together, shared a fish and chip (and inevitably some sand) for lunch, and then laid down to read together on their towels. He found in hard to study the traffic laws while she lay lazily by his side, quite transported by D H Lawrence.
Taking advantage of his new status, he dropped his arm about her and dropped a kiss on to her forehead. "I have never loved you more."
She looked at him and said with her eyes what she would never mind saying out loud: and you are the entire universe to me...
The third day the two of them went to a market, where Camilla found an old beat up copy of Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management, which she brought, 'for a laugh'. But when she turned the pages, she saw how they were covered in grease and torn, how it had been written in and marked. This book had been loved and had helped to create a marriage and a home.
Now it would do the same for another couple. At least that was something her Mater might approve of.
Peter brought her a new watch and she brought him thick gloves for the coming winter.
The fourth day contained a late breakfast which they digested slowly before packing up to come home.
As they hit the route in to London, she could not help wondering if Mrs Perry's delivery pack had been dropped off and how little Harry Giles, who had arrived two weeks early, had fared over the weekend. And she had her cubs to think of...
But when she looked back on her honeymoon six decades later, she knew it had not been the days which had mattered to her.
It had been the nights.
It was the time when she believed with all her heart that there was no one else in the world. She knew for a fact no one had or would ever be as happy as she was when she was in his arms. She felt small and breakable and loved and cherished.
She knew for the two of them, there could never be an another. If god forbid... no. She was his wife. His only.
What had Cynthia said? Soul mates. Yes, that was what they were.
She would recall caressing his face, wrapping her arms about his shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. And afterwards, even when exhausted, the way he continued cuddling her. Not once in her childhood had she been made to feel the way he did - special.
The days after the honeymoon were different.
But the nights remained the same.