Harry and Bertie

Chapter 6

Warning: No smut! (Sorry ladies) 😋

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Bertie and Harry continued to see each other on an almost daily basis. Nights were spent together, although typically it was at her home, as it was out of sight of prying eyes. She saw the glances, the whispering behind hands that she received at the shops, by parents at the school, even at church. Her, not Harry...of course not, he was sowing wild oats! She, however, had become the town slut. Her friends, the list of which was growing shorter, tried to encourage her to ignore them. She tried but it was wearing on her.

She decided to seek counsel from Geraldine.

"I'm not sure how much more I can stand," she was pacing Geraldine's living room. "That Natasha Hindman-"

"Miller," Geri interjected.

Bertie glared at her, "Miller! She started all this. I don't know what is wrong with her...she has always had it out for me!"

Geraldine was sitting on her couch, one leg tucked up under the other; she had a habit of running a finger along the seam of the cushions when she was pondering. "Technically, sweetie, you and Harry started it..."

Bertie swung around, fists on her hips, "Geraldine Granger! Are you saying what we are doing is wrong?"

Geraldine looked up at Bertie sheepishly, raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Ye-e-e-s. And no." Before she could be interrupted, she hurried on, "I mean, we are all modern people, so really it isn't an issue. But..."

"But? C'mon Geri, lay it all out."

"Dibley is a small village. Everyone knows what everyone is up to...it's the tittle-tattle of the village. You are known in the district and it's just...you know how it is."

Bertie was stunned. She never thought that she would be hearing this kind of small mindedness from Geraldine. Yes, she's the vicar, but she was no prude!

"Right! So support is not forthcoming, is that it?"

Geraldine had the decency to look abashed, but still shook her head. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I cannot publicly support you in this."

Bertie felt lost. And confused. Her relationship with Harry was fantastic. Not only was he an excellent lover, he was sweet and caring; always solicitous of her feelings. He was a gentleman (he opened doors for her! That so doesn't happen anymore) who treated her like she was precious.

And to Harry she was. He, too, saw the glances but, being a Londoner, was less prone to caring what others thought. For him, it was all about Bertie. She was different from any woman he had ever known. Her smile set his heart racing and her love-making...Wow! He had never cared much for sex, had never really understood what his mates were going on about; but with Bertie it was glorious. It was feeding his soul, making his whole life better.

Bertie got home that night angry. She slammed the front door and stomped her way to the kitchen. As she entered the kitchen a smile spread across her face. She could smell something delicious cooking and made her way to the crockpot simmering on the counter. She lifted the lid to find Lemon Chicken cooking slowly. The table had been set and, in the centre, was a large bouquet of pink carnations. She stuck her nose into the arrangement and sniffed. Carnations always made her happy.

A sudden sound from above had her heart racing, her tummy doing flip-flops. Harry!

She raced up the staircase and hurried to where she heard the sound. She found him in her office, perusing her bookshelf. She leaned on the doorjamb and watched him, a slow sweet smile on her face.

Harry felt like he was being watched. He turned his head and saw her. He put the book he was holding back in its spot on the shelf and turned to her.

"Hello, my darling."

At the endearment, Bertie started to sob. Harry shot across the room and enfolded her in an embrace.

"Sweetheart!" He put her head to his chest and stroked her hair. "What is wrong?"

She half laughed/half cried, "I've never been called someone's 'darling' before." Harry smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Harry, can we just lock ourselves up here and never go out again?"

He tilted her head up and grinned, "As tempting as that sounds, I think we might get hungry after a time."

"Well, summer holidays start next week, and I have no intention of leaving my house!"

Harry laughed, "Now, now my girl, think of all that you will miss out on. With whom shall I walk, hmmm? Who will tell me who owned what house and the history of the families who lived there?"

She chuckled, "Some of those houses have stories to tell!" She looked up at him and asked, "Do you think they will stop talking?" A tear leaked from her eye.

Harry took her head in his hands, "You don't need to even think of what they say. Understand? What we are doing...there is nothing wrong with it! We are enjoying our relationship on our terms. If they don't like it, tough shit!"

"But what about my job? I think they might actually be considering not having me back next term!"

"Sweetheart, Bertie love, this will all blow over." He smirked, "We aren't that exciting." He trailed his hands down her arms, took her hands in his and pulled her from the room, "Now, darling, how about a little something to eat?"

Bertie cocked an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head and laughed, "I mean chicken! The chicken you sex fiend!"