Black Sheep

The next morning we awoke with a start to George crying.
“I can’t wait until we’re at your parents’ house.” Harry said, is his usually croaky morning tone.
“Me neither. But we will be woken up at the crack of dawn by the tractors and the cockrells and the cows in the fields.”
“Sounds wonderful.” He said, kissing the top of my head.
“We better get packed up.” I said, sitting up and stretching.
“No need. I let Stephen sort it last night. He’s packed all our clothes into suitcases by the door and wrapped the gifts you bought yesterday.”
“Remind me to thank him. He really is helpful.”
“He really is.” Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me back down to lie beside him. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look first thing in the morning?”
“Really?!” I asked surprised.
“Really. Stop being modest! You look breathtaking.”
“Even when my hair is tatty and I have no make up on and -”
“Your hair looks beautiful when it falls off your shoulder” He lifted a lock of blonde hair from my shoulder and let it fall onto the pillow behind me, leaving a soft kiss where it had been, “and you don’t need make up. And don’t even start getting self-conscious about your terrible morning breath.” He joked. At least, I hoped it was a joke. “Because I love all of it. I love every single thing about you.”
“What’s made you so romantic, buster?”
“I always feel this romantic when I’m near you, I just never take the time to say it.” He looked right into my eyes with the starriest smile I’ve ever seen. “I adore you Rebecca.”
“I guess I kinda love you too.” I joked. I planted a quick kiss on his cheek before throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed. He looked hurt somewhat, I could see his face furrowed slightly in thought. I padded round to his side of the bed and sat on the edge. “I adore you too Harry.” I let my hand reach out and lift his head to look at me. “And don’t ever forget it.” I kissed him softly on the lips. His hands reached out to my hips and pulled me down towards him.
“Trust me, I wont ever let you forget it.” His tone laced with a sudden urge of need. The need to be next to each other, wrapped up in a tangle of limbs. And of course dreaded morning breath.

*****
“Which turn off is it?” Harry asked, letting me give directions to my parents’ house. He insisted that he drove the four hour journey from my London to the village where I’d grown up.
“The next one.” I was so relaxed with the radio softly playing in the background and my hand in Harry’s as he drove. The country roads leading off one another mapped the way. It was from confusing for Harry but I knew the roads like the back of my hand from the junction that I’d held number of farm vehicles up when I’d stalled the car on my first driving test to the turn off to my school and the bushes where I’d snuck off to with my first boyfriend.

“Next left and we’ll be in the village.” Harry’s hand left mine as he switched gear and then went straight back to fit in mine. He’d quietly hummed softly all the way there. Not the kind of snorey hum he did in his sleep. It was a tune but I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. He turned at a junction and we were almost there. We drove past the pub, and the village shop and the primary school and church whose gardens were full of flowers. “Its right here after the knitting shop.” I spotted the knitting shop that was owned by mrs Wilkinson who used to babysit me when I was little.
“Knitting shop?”
“Yes knitting shop. It’s popular with the old women.” The car turned slowly onto the gravel driveway. Harry stopped the car and I made to get out.
“Wait a second.” He said, putting his hand on my knee.
“What’s up?”
“I just need a second. I’m just a bit…” He took a deep breath, looking down at the steering wheel, looking for words.
“Nervous?”
“You could say that.”
“There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“What if your dad doesn’t like me?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still love you.” He sighed content, then looked up to me, leaning in for a quick kiss. “He’ll like you, trust me. And if he doesn’t he won’t say anything.” I patted his knee before hopping out of the car and round to the boot to get our luggage out. I felt a hand snake around my waist.
“Wait up.” He kissed me quite hard, smack on the lips.
“What was that for?”
“Well I won’t get to kiss you most of the weekend so I’m stocking up.” he said, planting another one.
“What maked you think that?”
“Your family’ll be around all weekend.”
“That changes nothing.” I reached up to his neck and pulled him into me again.
“AUNTY BECCA!” I heard a little voice shout, followed by little footsteps on the gravel. My niece Poppy came running up to the car with one arm flailing about in the air, the other clutching onto a tatty looking stuffed penguin I’d bought her two christmases ago. I crouched down to let her run into my arms. But she stopped short about two meters away. Her eyes went wide.
“What’s up sweetie pie?” I said lifting her up in my arms.
“Is that your boyfriend?” She said fascinated.
“Yep do you want to go and meet him?” She shook her head and buried it into my neck. “Would Peter the penguin like to meet him?”
“Gordon the penguin.” She corrected me.
“Sorry, Gordon, would you like to come and meet Harry?” She made the little penguin’s head pop up and nod. I carried Poppy (and Gordon the penguin) around to the back of the car where Harry had lifted the suitcases out.
“Whose this?” Harry asked, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“this is Gordon the penguin, and his friend Poppy.”
“How do you do Gordon” Harry said, shaking the rather soggy looking penguin flipper. “Hello there Poppy.” He said stroking her back. She giggled slightly.
I noticed my mum stood at the door with a happy smile on her face. It was more than happy, it was elated. She was yielding a rolling pin and a flour covered apron.
“Have you been baking with grandma?”
“Yes we’ve made fairy cakes and now we’re making scones!” She gibbered excitedly, snapping out from her shyness. Well why don’t me you and Harry go and have a look at what you’ve been up to?” She nodded, wiggling out of my arms and running back into the house, leaving me to hold the soggy stuffed penguin.