Come What May

Chapter 6

A couple of weeks had passed and the end of October had arrived. The streets of London became practically covered with golden leaves, so much so that most street sweepers had given up on keeping the city clean. The air was becoming harsher, it had a stronger bite to it and people's clothes were beginning to get thicker. But the season still had a delicate charm about it, London always seemed to glow in the sunlight and everything seemed calm…until the rain began. As Mary made her way to Cherry Tree Lane the skies had opened and the rain poured down without mercy; Bert had left early that morning to sell hot chestnuts before joining the sweeps, so as Mary used her umbrella to shield herself from the downpour, she was left with the company of her beloved and sarcastic parrot.

"Well, I must admit, I didn't think things would go so well between you and Bert" he squawked.

"Oh, really? And why, may I ask, were you thinking so negatively?"

"Be honest, Mary Poppins, how many men would stick by a woman in your situation?"

"Must we really discuss this? It's starting to get a little boring" Mary huffed.

"There's no need for that attitude, I would've thought you'd be more than happy to talk about Mr Alfred"

"And just what are you implying?"

"There's no denying it, Mary Poppins" the bird said mysteriously.

"No denying what?"

"You know you can't hide these things from me"

"For goodness sake, will you please explain yourself?" she demanded.

"Surely you've realised it too?"

"If you don't explain yourself right now you'll find yourself going head first into the Thames"

"You won't do that" the parrot said in a cocky voice.

"Please, just stop being so frustrating and tell me what on earth you're talking about" Mary sighed as she stepped through several small puddles.

"I think you're in love with Bert, Mary Poppins!" the bird stated proudly.

Mary inhaled sharply and stepped forcefully into another puddle – causing a small wave of water to mark her long coat. For reasons unknown to Mary, the idea of love scared her and she felt so stupid for feeling that way. The fear of three simple words, the fear of 'I love you' would make it seem as if she was uncertain about her relationship with Bert, but she knew that was not the case. If she were to be honest, she felt the opposite, every time she was with Bert everything just felt…right. Like there was no other possible way of living and if there was, she didn't want to know about it. She adored waking up and finding herself in his arms, she adored the feeling of his lips against hers…she adored him; she adored every part of him.

But the thought of actually saying 'I love you' made her stomach feel hollow. She couldn't understand the turmoil, it wasn't as if she didn't want to say it, perhaps it was just her inexperience? She was practically perfect in every fathomable field of life, but the world of romance was still incredibly new to her. She had never reached a point in her life where she had found herself on the brink of 'I love you'. Mary hypothesised that she was scared, she didn't know why, nor did she know what she was scared of, but that was what she felt. Perhaps it was the thought of potentially scaring Bert away? Or was it the sheer emotional value of the word 'love' – it may be a word that is used flippantly among families, but saying it in a relationship was something so different – it held a whole new meaning.