All Of Us Fit In Our Places

This is a continuation from Piper Plus. It can be read as a standalone but many of the same characters feature. There is a list of characters at the foot of the document.

Constructive criticism and comments are very welcome

Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely co-incidental

The song that Anna sings to Charles is from (You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman by the incomparable Carole King

Courtships

March

Charles Stanforth picked up the sheaf of paper and tried to focus on the

precis

. After a minute he realised that not one word of it had impressed itself upon his consciousness and irritably tossed it on to the desk.

Leaning back in his chair he rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. This was intolerable. Charles prided himself on his self-discipline. Hail, rain or shine, the job came first.

However, thoughts of Mr Piper's sister-in-law swam tantalisingly close to the surface. As if on cue, David knocked on the door to the office and Charles groaned gently.

"Enter!"

David let himself in and sat in the chair across the desk.

Charles found David's presumption entertaining. Apart from a couple of the staff, he didn't consider anyone - Charles included - to be his intellectual superior, and therefore undeserving of deference, which caused consternation amongst some of his colleagues. Much to Charles' amusement, David was unaware of this meritocratic stance.

"It's about Paul's analysis, Charles. I don't agree with the conclusions."

"How so?"

"I wish I could put my finger on it. There's no one thing that clearly sticks out as being in error but the slant of it is wrong."

David paused and rubbed his forehead. "That's doing Paul a disservice. His work is fine, but I don't find the outcome convincing."

"The report's not due for a fortnight, David. Let your famous subconscious dwell on it for a few days. See what bobs to the surface."

David nodded and closed his eyes for a moment.

Charles drew on his courage and took advantage of the natural gap in the conversation.

"Would you be kind enough to divulge Miss Mollica's telephone number, David?"

He waited expectantly for the other man to engage in some ritual banter, but David surprised him with a slow, pleased smile and recited a string of numbers.

He stood and went to leave the room but paused by the door.

"I think you'll find Anna will be delighted to take your call."

Some of the tension that had tightened Charles' shoulders ebbed away. David inclined his head in understanding and let himself out of the office.

Charles inspected the row of digits for a few moments and then picked up the telephone.

No time like the present and all that.

It rang for a moment or two and then an alto voice came on the line.

"Four, double four six."

The pit of his stomach did something most curious.

"Anna?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Charles Stanforth. We met at your sister's wedding."

He heard Anna's sharp intake of breath and could picture her raising her hand to her mouth.

"Charles! How did you get this number? Ach, stupid of me! You'll have got it from David of course. Why didn't you phone before?"

Slightly taken aback, he paused, "I didn't want to presume."

She laughed. "As if!"

Her voice was music in his ears and shockwaves in his blood. He drew on his reserves.

"How are you, Anna?"

"My day just got a lot better!"

"Indeed," he murmured. "A win at the races, perhaps?"

She laughed again but to his dismay a call waiting light appeared on his phone.

"My apologies, Anna, work is about to intrude. May I call you this evening?"

"Of course, Charles, eight o'clock?"

"Eight o'clock."

With that he switched to the waiting call and wrong footed a difficult client with his good humour.

Once the call was over, he stood and went to stand by the window. The day was wet and grey; the passers-by wrapped up against the weather. A sports coupe was caught in the traffic, and he thought again of the occasion when he had met Jennifer Piper's sister.

Tapping his thumbnail against his front teeth he remembered that there was a dealership within walking distance. It was lunchtime and a bit of rain never hurt anyone. He retrieved his coat from the peg.

***

"When you said, 'go for a walk' I didn't think we would end up here, Charles!"

David eyed the sleek machines, polished to a high shine under the crisp glare of the showroom's halogen spots.

"I'm a bit disappointed not to find one in green," Charles replied.

"Being the only proper colour for a gentleman's motor?"

"Quite."

"I'm sure they'll be happy to cater to sir's needs."

"One would hope so."

A salesman oiled over to enquire if there was anything,

anything

at all, he could do for them.

Charles was assured that British Racing Green, with cream leather interior, was a standard finish and a model could be delivered within the week.

He was not given to ostentation, but on reflection thought that perhaps such a purchase wasn't outside the bounds of propriety, and to David's amazement, produced his cheque book.

"Anna will be delighted to know she has such influence on you, Charles."

"Nonsense, Mr Piper. I have been thinking of buying a new car for a while. Miss Mollica's suggestion merely crystallised my resolve."

"An Aston isn't just any car, Charles. It's a statement."

"As is my suit and my accoutrements. What car do you drive, David?"

"I don't drive as you very well know, Charles."

"Indeed. And that too is a statement. It marks you out as having a diverse set of values."

"I'm not sure I think of it like that. More laziness on my part than anything else."

"Not true, David. For you, not owning a car is not some ideological standpoint, and certainly not anything you would dream of defending in an argument. It's a facet of your character. That authenticity is what attracts people like your remarkable spouses."

David squinted at Charles.

"Did you just pay me a compliment, Mr Stanforth?"

"I believe it was your spouses I described as remarkable, Mr Piper."

David grinned at him, and Charles could not but smile in return.

***

Eight o'clock finally arrived and Anna hovered at the top of the stairs. Mustn't appear too eager. Or desperate. The seconds ticked past, and an awful kernel of doubt started to materialise in her breast.

Downstairs the phone rang, and Anna let go of a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

Jean Mollica picked the receiver up absently, still watching the television.

"Hello?"

"Mrs Mollica?" said a very upper-class accent.

"Yes?"

"I wonder if I might speak to Anna. It's Charles Stanforth. We met at Jennifer's, ah, nuptials."

Jean remembered a tall, smart man with an adroit turn of phrase. Anna had been very taken with him. She smiled. It seemed that he might be similarly taken.

"Yes of course. It was lovely to meet you, Charles. I'll just call her."

Fred looked across from the other chair, eyebrows raised in question. She put her hand over the mouthpiece.

"It's that tall posh boy we met at Jennifer's do."

Her husband frowned. They still couldn't agree on a proper word for the event they'd attended some weeks earlier. Although nuptials sounded quite good.

She went to the foot of the stairs and called up. Moments later her eldest daughter appeared at the top.

"It's Charles Stanforth, dear. He wants -" she tailed off and held the phone out as Anna threw herself down the stairs and snatched it from her.

"Charles!"

Jean smiled as she watched her daughter blush. Then she turned and went back into the living room to give her some privacy.

Anna had refused all the young men in her social circle. Her mother had feared her standards were so high she would be single all her days, but it seemed Cupid's arrow had found a chink in her armour at last.

Half an hour later her daughter bounced into the room. "He's coming to see me!"

Her mother looked up over her half-moons. "That's nice. When?"

"A week Saturday."

***

April

When Saturday came Anna was a bundle of nerves. She was on her third change of clothes when the doorbell rang. Briefly stuck trying to put on a cashmere top, she shrieked.

"Mum! Mum! Help!"

Fred went to answer the door while his wife tried to help her daughter be presentable.

Now free of the clingy garment, Anna allowed her mother to brush her hair while she strained to hear the murmurs of conversation from the hall. She fought to control her breathing. Demure was the desired look.

Five or so minutes later she let herself into the living room where Charles and her father were sitting talking. Charles rose to his feet as she entered, and he smiled.

The world fell away and her answering smile faltered. A smile seemed inadequate to express the power of her feelings towards him. Suddenly she felt bashful and diffident, unsure how to conduct herself.

His face changed and he advanced to stand in front of her. He took her hands.

"Anna. It's wonderful to see you."

Realising that he was surplus to requirements, her father sat down with a grunt. The sound brought her back to the present.

She stepped back and looked Charles up and down. He was wearing a dark grey tweed jacket over a checked flannel shirt and thick brown corduroy trousers. A scarf hung round his neck and the ensemble was topped off with a dark blue cap.

It was about as far away from the immaculate suit he'd sported at Jen's wedding as it was possible to get but he looked completely at home.

"What

are

you wearing?"

He looked down at his apparel with faint dismay.

"It's what I wear when I'm driving any distance."

"You drove here!"

"Yes of course. I could have flown I suppose but that would have been a lot of fuss."

Anna inspected him with narrowed eyes.

"You don't mean to tell me you can fly?"

"Certainly."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Can't everyone?"

Her father snorted. Ostensibly he was reading the paper, but she could see that he was smiling.

"Would you like to go for a spin?"

Once she was suitably dressed, they walked down the street to where Charles had parked. He stopped by a long low convertible and unlocked the doors. She looked at the sleek dark green sports car and then up to where his mouth had the faintest of quirks.

"Your remarks at your sister's wedding inspired me. I'm British so I ought to drive a British car."

She stooped to peer inside at the cream leather upholstery and walnut panelling.

"You bought an Aston Martin because of something I said?"

"Jump in. I'll show you what she can do."

Anna eased herself into the passenger seat. It was a long way down.

The engine started with a growl and Charles eased into the traffic.

"It's a shame that the weather isn't a little warmer, I'd let the top down. Where would you like to go?"

"Go down to the roundabout and turn right."

Once on the dual carriageway to the coast, Charles turned to look at her and grinned.

"Hold on!"

The engine gave a throaty roar and the car leapt forward. Anna barely suppressed a yelp as she was pressed back into her seat. She caught sight of the speedometer as it passed 90 and headed for 100.

Scant minutes later they hit the coast road and the Aston came into its own. Anna calmed as Charles allowed the car to do its thing, holding the tarmac as if married to it.

She looked across at him where he was wearing the expression of any boy in possession of the ultimate toy. He caught her looking at him and spared her a quick smile before turning his attention back to the road.

They pulled into a seaside car park overlooking a lighthouse. The iconic whitewashed spire was a little way offshore but connected by a causeway to the mainland at low tide. The sunlight made it a sharp riposte to the grey sea and the blue sky.

Charles retrieved a tartan scarf for his companion from the back seat and got out of the car. He came smartly round to open Anna's door for her and to help her out of the passenger seat.

There was a bit of an art to exiting a sports car without looking ungainly. Plus, he got to hold her hand for a few moments.

The wind was keen, and he fastened his jacket, before helping her to tuck the scarf in. Anna slipped her hand through his arm, and he put his hands into his pockets with immense satisfaction.

She hugged his arm and nestled into his side as they strolled above the rocks. There was something very manly (if slightly ridiculous) about feeling as if he was protecting her, even if it was just from the wind.

They ambled along the cliff path in companionable silence, enjoying the keen breeze and the smell of the ocean.

Anna was exultant. It felt so right being with him that there was no need for conversation. It felt like they had been waiting for each other all their lives.

As the sun started to dip towards the horizon, they returned to the car park and Anna pulled Charles towards a take-away van at the top end. He hung back a little and she grinned at him.

"Come along, Charles, you're mixing with the lower orders now!"

He laughed and surprised himself in the process. Besides which, the waft from the van was not what he was expecting. Instead of fish and chips, there was cinnamon and caramel in the hot fat smell.

Anna paid for a bag of half a dozen fresh doughnuts, and they perched on the railing beside the van, nibbling and huffing at the sugared too-hot-to-eat rings.

Charles laughed aloud again.

"These are extraordinarily good, darling," he remarked, and Anna adored him anew.

"That's the first time you've called me darling."

"Is it? I hope you're not offended. We haven't had a very long courtship."

Unable to speak, she elbowed him affectionately.

***

In the late spring, Anna came to visit her sister.

"So, how is the lovely Charles?" Jen asked.

Anna blushed. "He's wonderful. He's so posh but underneath he's just gorgeous!"

"My sister is in love!"

Anna looked down and gave the tiniest of nods. "I hope he feels the same."

"David says that he's taken to whistling in the office. I don't think you've got anything to worry about."

***

July

Anna liked Charles' apartment. It was like something out of the 1920's with windows that ran from floor to ceiling and little bronze Juliet balconies.

She was curled up next to him on the sofa, looking out over the park.

"When do I get to meet your family? You've met mine."

He paused before replying.

"My family have some issues."

"Like what?"

"It's hard to explain without prejudicing you. I've calculated that we could go in three weeks' time for a weekend. Everyone will be there."

Anna considered this statement in silence.

"It's my mother and my brother," he said.

His jaw tightened.

"My mother can be ...

unpredictable

, and, as for Giles."

He snorted contemptuously.

Anna stared at him.

"I can look after myself, Charles. If I'm going to marry you-"

"If," he murmured, unhappily. "There's some doubt?"

Anna glowed inwardly. Charles had not actually proposed, yet it was clear to both of them that he would and that she would accept.

Her lips firmed.

"I will deal with as many crusty antediluvian Home Counties snobs as you care to throw at me! Is that clear?"

He was looking at his shoes and frowning but he gave a short nod and looked sideways at her. The corner of his mouth ticked infinitesimally up, and his eyes softened.

That boarding school had done a hell of a job on him, she thought.

She looked up into his face. "Kiss me."

"Yes ma'am," he whispered.

His cologne overlaid but didn't mask the essential scent of him. Sandalwood and spice and a masculine tang that sang to a very ancient part of her.

Their lips met and Anna felt her heart swell within her until it seemed that it encompassed the whole of existence. They twisted until they were lying on the sofa together.

She became aware that her nipples were digging into his chest, and she could feel his erection prodding her below decks. His breathing was deep and slightly hoarse.

She leaned away from him fractionally to make eye contact. There was another emotion on his face. Anna didn't do coy, but a mischievous impulse took hold of her.

"I do hope you're not too much of a traditionalist, Charles."

His eyes lost a little of their glazed look and focused.

"What?"

"I'm a practical girl. I like to assure myself that any unknowns are revealed sooner rather than later."

Now he looked properly baffled. "What are you talking about?"

Daringly, she put her hand down to cup the bulge in his trousers.

"I was hoping not to have to wait until our wedding night."

To her amazement, the urbane Charles Stanforth went beetroot and started to bluster. Just before he broke from her and turned away, she could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

He strode to the window and stood stiffly, his arms rigid by his sides.

She ran to his side and took his arm, staring up into his face.

"Charles, what on earth is the matter!"

"I have no wish to disappoint you Anna, nor do I wish you to labour under any misapprehensions."

Anna was dumbfounded, what could he be about to reveal?

"I," he paused and took a deep breath. "I am a virgin."

Anna stared at him for a few charged moments.

"You stupid, stupid man! Did you really think that would change my opinion of you?"

Charles Stanforth actually blushed.

"I feared it might cause you to think less of me. "

"You prize ass! Never, never assume anything about me ever again!"

He reddened again.

"I will not. On my honour. "

Anna blew a huge sigh of relief and gathered him into a hug. She felt him relax and then put him at arm's length.

"Besides which, Mr Stanforth, I am a good girl."

He looked at her, not understanding, until she quirked an eyebrow. Then his mouth rounded.

"Ah. Do I have it right that we may be on this voyage of discovery together?"

She caught her bottom lip in her teeth and placed her splayed hand on his chest. The electricity between them flared.

"May I kiss you, Anna?"

"That's one thing you'll never have to ask for permission for."

Their lips met and their embrace became steadily more intense until suddenly Anna felt it was more like physical combat than making out.

"Gently, Charles!"

His expression wilted. Anna felt a sense of exasperation. Navigating between his schoolboy notions and his fragile male ego (was there any other sort?) was going to be too much like hard work. There had to be another way.

"Look at me, Charles!"

He raised sheepish eyes to hers. He looked very vulnerable.

"I'm sorry, Anna. I learned how to ride a horse, to shoot and wield a well-chosen word, but I am an innocent in the softer arts. I am in your hands."

"Well then, you're going to have to rethink things. If I'm not to be broken or mastered or conquered."

His expression brightened. "Diplomacy!"

Anna laughed out loud. "Go on then! What am I? An ambassador from a distant and exotic country or a dull legation?"

He smiled. "You're never dull, Miss Mollica."

She shivered with delight.

"You're as big a romantic as David. Possibly worse."

"I'd like to think I have the edge on Mr Piper."

"Well then, Mr Stanforth, they say the word is father to the deed."

"Father," he mused, "I like the sound of that. Duty to produce an heir and all that."

"You won't be doing the producing!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Delaying tactics, Charles?"

"I was rather hoping you'd open negotiations."

To Charles' surprise, Anna took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Inside, she walked to the window, and drew the curtains closed. The heavy drapes let almost no light through.