Harry and Bertie

Chapter 8

As soon as Harry got home he put in a phone call to his best friend, confidant and sister, Rosie.

"Rosie I don't know what to do..."

"What are you talking about? All you do is go on and on about Bertie this and Bertie that, it's Bertie, Bertie, Bertie."

"I know," Harry was genuinely confused. Was it love or just great sex?

"Stop being a git!" Rosie had heard enough, "I know you think it is all about the sex...but have you ever considered that the sex is so good because you love her?"

"Of course I have, Chicken," Harry sighed.

"Look, Hairs, you aren't getting any younger; what's wrong with settling down? You always wanted that perfect fairy tale...besides," Rosie chuckled, "if Bertie is half the woman you say she is, she is waay more than you deserve!"

Harry made a face, "Thanks for that. I just worry it is too soon."

"Harry, I feel for you; really I do, but you are crazy about this woman - it's as obvious as the nose on your face." She paused, "And yours is enormous!" She laughed down the phone line.

"Alright, enough picking on your big brother. I'll ponder your words of wisdom, oh smarty pants."

"Good. When do you see her again?"

"Tomorrow. I'm finally getting her out of the house and down to the village for the fair."

"You see her tomorrow? Do you see her every day?"

Harry made a sound like he was trying to avoid the question, "Yeeees," he drew it out.

"You are both a git and a twat!"

"Well, on that pleasant note, goodbye Rosie."

"Goodbye Harry, think about what I've said. I do love you."

"Goodnight Chicken, I love you too."

Harry crawled into bed late that night, mentally and emotionally exhausted. For the first time since meeting her, he was dreading seeing Bertie the next day.

****

Bertie was waiting impatiently for Harry. She could feel the eyes on her; it felt like everyone in Dibley and the surrounding countryside was looking at her. 'Jeez, is it 1650? Do I have a big red A sewn onto my chest?'

"Bertie! Hey, over here!"

'Oh friendly people.' Bertie rushed over to where Nancy and her husband, Dave, were standing. "Thank goodness, I felt like I was about to melt like the nazi from Indiana Jones with all these eyes on me!"

"Just a bunch of busy bodies and nosey nellies. Don't pay them any attention."

"Oh sure, that's easy for you to say," Bertie looked pointedly at Dave. "You have him...you'll note that I am standing here alone..."

"Well, where is Harry?" Nancy recoiled, "Has he stood you up?"

Bertie looked down at the ground, anywhere but directly at her friend, "I don't know...he said he would be here around 10. Oh Nance! I think I screwed up seriously!"

Nancy nodded at Dave and took Bertie by the elbow, directing her to the shade of a tree. "Tell me all about it."

"I-I, shit Nancy, I told him I love him!" Bertie was pacing up and down, unable to keep still.

"And?"

"And? He sure as hell didn't say it back."

"Ohhhh," Nancy stood awkwardly, before rushing forward and embracing her friend. "Oh Bertie, I'm so sorry!"