You Never Said - Part 3 To The Producer (A Ricky Wilson Fan-fiction)

Bath Wedding

They talked. They talked more than they had ever seemed to have done in all the time that they were together. Days passed and the sun shone. They walked by the canals and through the Royal parks of London. They visited a theme park and scared themselves stupid on the rides. They took a trip to see Ricky's parents and were actually allowed to share a room this time. Ricky said that was progress. They booked a night at James' hotel where it had all begun again for them. Staying in the same room with the same bath that they made just as good use of.

It was whilst walking up on the moors again that Ricky asked the question about Laura's mother that he'd wanted to ask since he'd first found out about her. They had stopped at a stone bench over looking the valley to take a rest. They were looking down upon the village nestled below, pointing out the smallest of details that they had noticed as if it were a model village. They fell silent. Ricky bit at his lip before he asked, "Do you have any idea where your mum lives?" Laura hadn't expected the question. She stared at him, taken aback.

"The last I heard was she was living in Wales. My auntie, James' mum, had a letter, no address on it. She wanted to cut all ties I guess." Laura sat forward with her hands between her knees. Ricky continued.

"Have you thought about trying to find her?" Laura's face flew round to look at him. Was he serious?

"Why would I want to do that? To be hurt? Again?" She couldn't believe he'd even asked.

"I was just going to say, if you wanted to, then I would help, do all I could," he offered.

Laura looked out again across the valley. "It's not a wound I'm ever going to open. Come on. We'll get lunch at the pub in the village." And no more words were said about it.

After a lunch of a ploughmans each - though they could have shared one between them- they reluctantly returned to the hotel, packed and checked out and headed back to London. The trip to Bath was the following day, so they had more unpacking and packing to do. They would arrive the day before the wedding and stay for two days afterwards before once again returning to London to prepare for the festival in the north west that Ricky had agreed to, despite being on his official holiday. Laura didn't mind. They were together and that was all that mattered. Who said holidays should be relaxing anyway?

The hotel that Ricky had booked near Bath was truly beautiful. Laura was under no illusion that she wasn't the first girlfriend that he had spent time with there, but he was adamant that he'd never stayed in the room that he'd asked for. And what a room it was. The whitewashed walls reminded Laura of her Yorkshire cottage. A four poster bed, sat centrally against a wall, directed towards a view of rolling hills a distance lake, through French doors which opened out on to a small terrace.

Laura stood on the terrace, pushing her sunglasses back down on to her nose to make the most of this vista without the glare of the June sun. The forecast was looking good for the wedding and their following days there. Ricky had booked something fun for them to do, he had told her, but refused to say what it was. Good weather was preferable to the event apparently. She heard the room door open and Ricky joined her on the terrace, his arms wrapping around her from behind and his chin nuzzling into her neck.

"I've ordered coffee. I thought we could have it out her." He felt Laura shiver at his touch.

"Lovely. This is a beautiful place Ricky." She felt him release his grip and watched as he took a seat on the patio. "No wonder you wanted to come back." She joined him at the table.

"You don't mind that I've been her before?" he asked nervously.

"I think we're a bit too old to be thinking like that." Laura cut her answer short as she heard her phone ring back in the room. She stepped back inside, looking round for it. Hearing in was coming from the bedside table, she headed towards it, but the ringing stopped as she got there. The number was withheld. She wouldn't have answered it anyway, probably a cold caller trying to sell her PPI. Laura returned to the patio just as coffee was being served. Ricky hadn't mentioned the collection of cakes he'd also ordered.