Chelsea sat back on the sofa and let her gaze
wander around the room. She hadn’t exactly expected to be back here, in
his
home, but after the rehearsals had split up, mainly because John was
still in
shock, Michael had driven them both out to a nearby park and they had
walked
the grounds, looking at the beautiful countryside that surrounded the
bustle of
London, and quietly revelling in each others company.
They had talked, laughed, joked, and in
Michael’s case, cried, and had had a wonderful afternoon in the early
August
sunshine.
And then to her surprise he had suggested
dinner. And not only was she surprised at this, when he had driven her
back to
his flat she had had an even bigger shock.
His lounge was immaculately clean, aside from
a few spread-out novels, a couple of magazines and a wad of papers on
the
coffee table.
The paint on the walls was calming, his sofa
was soft and she watched his back through a hatch in the
wall as he pottered around in the small kitchen that adjoined the room.
She glanced
into another room and saw what looked like a desk, only all she could
see of it
was paper and notes tacked to walls, lamps and draw handles.
“Would you like a drink love?” he asked as he
went about his business in the kitchen. He had promised it would be a
meal to
remember and Chelsea smiled as she realised how much he had loosened up
that afternoon. Gone was the awkwardness and the stiff
responses, and in their place was the genial, friendly and very funny
man that
she had first met in the super market. He was even starting to use
terms of
endearment with her now, which she smiled at every time he did.
“A cup of tea would be lovely thanks Mike.”
He nodded and began whistling an unfamiliar
tune as he made the tea and began preparing the food.
“Would you like a hand in there?” she asked
as he began chopping.
Michael turned and grinned at her through the
hatch. “No thanks, I’m quite happy doing it for myself. Make yourself
at home,
relax. You must’ve had a busy time these past few weeks, what with the
new job
and everything.” His face reappeared. “You never did tell me what your
new boss
is like.”
Chelsea grinned as he passed her the cup of tea
and returned to the kitchen.
“They work me so hard Mike, I’ve never had
such a horrid time in all my life.”
“Sounds utterly dreadful,” came
a voice from over the sound of sizzling.
“And the worst part of it is, there’s this one guy who just won’t stop
picking on me! Do
you know what he did today?”
Michael shrugged and looked through the hatch
again. “I can’t think what?”
Chelsea folded her arms. “He made me eat his
food!”
“Oh what a heinous crime.
Sounds like you’re having a terrible time. Tell you what, why don’t you
come
and work for me yeah?”
She laughed and smiled at him as she cupped her
hands around the mug of tea and drank deeply. Folding her legs
underneath her
she felt so comfortable in her surroundings that she leant back and
shut her
eyes for a few moments, listening to the distant sounds of Michael
preparing
their dinner.
*************************************************************************************************************
Her eyelids darted open and she sat bolt
upright on the sofa. The living room was dark save for a small lamp and
she
suddenly realised there was a blanket covering her. The flat smelt
wonderfully
of garlic, herbs and tomato and her stomach suddenly groaned with
hunger. She
glanced around the room, wondering what the hell the time was and why
Michael
hadn’t woken her up when the food was ready. Quietly she crept into the
kitchen, determined to silence her moaning belly, and stopped dead when
she saw
candles flickering on the dining table and a neat spread of steaming
food and
wine laid out before her.
Michael smiled gently as she gaped and then
offered her a seat, pouring her some wine as she sat down.
“I thought I’d been asleep for hours.” She
said as he sat back in his seat and looked her over.
“You have.” He said and smiled. “It’s now two am.”
Chelsea felt shock well up inside her. “Oh my God
Michael I’m sorry! I didn’t even know I was tired until I closed my
eyes, and
it was so cosy and everything was so comfortable, and the food smelt
delicious.”
She glanced down at the steaming food. It
didn’t look burnt, it didn’t look uncooked, in fact it
looked as though it’d just been done.
Michael laughed. “It’s been warming gently
since you fell asleep. We didn’t get in till eight anyway, and I saw
you asleep
before I actually began cooking anything important, so I stalled for a
while. I
cooked it all at about eleven and then left it to oven cook on a very
gentle
heat.”
Chelsea felt happiness exude her. She couldn’t
wait to tuck in and Michael motioned for her to do so and before she
knew it
her plate was empty and, with another glass of wine, they both vacated
the
dining area and went to sit back down on the sofas.
She snuggled against the blanket once more
and settled back against the sofa. Michael sat at the end of it and
watched her
with intense eyes.
“The food was magnificent Michael. I’m sorry
I made you wait so long for it.”
He shrugged. “Some things are worth waiting
for.”
There was a silence between them and neither one moved nor said
anything. Instead they looked at each
other, and Michael leant over to her and motioned for her to come to
him.
She slipped easily into his arms and turned
around so she could nestle into the crook of his arm, against his
stomach.
He put his hand over hers and touched her
hair gently with his fingers, loving its softness and it’s
feel on his skin. He liked having her in his arms, liked feeling her
breathing
against him and liked smelling her perfume in his home. Something
inside him was telling him to make the first serious move, to let
her know how he was feeling, but as he looked down at her head leaning
on his
chest he didn’t know how to say the words. His mind roamed back to the
letter
he wrote and he pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t think of anything
to say
that would express his true feelings.
Chelsea shifted against him and turned over so
she was lying on her side.
“Are you comfortable?” she asked in a voice
laced with tiredness. She suppressed a yawn and looked up with a
sheepish
smile.
Michael smiled back at her softly and nodded.
Chelsea looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and
grimaced. “Perhaps I should head home.” She said and began to move, but
Michael
rested a hand on her shoulder and shrugged. “You could always stay here
the
night.” He said, almost whispering the words.
She pulled herself up into a sitting
position. “I couldn’t do that Michael, I wouldn’t want
to put you out. And anyway,” she said saucily, “I’ve seen your spare
room, I know how long it would take you to remove your
thousands of books from the bed.”
Michael shook his head. “You don’t
understand.”
Chelsea shook hers. “I don’t, I mean why would
one man want ten novels by Ernest Hemingway?”
Michael waved his hands in front of himself.
“No, what I mean is, you don’t have to stay in the spare room.”
She looked blank as he sat back again and
sighed. “Where else is there Mike? The sofa? Perhaps
if we cleared the dining room table I could sleep on that?”
He looked into her eyes and took her hand. “I
want you to stay the night with me.”
Chelsea stopped laughing. “Are you serious?”
Michael nodded. “There are lots of things
that I could say about everything that’s happened, but I can’t put them
into
words, so hold off asking questions for ten minutes please.” He shifted
in his
seat. “I’m so nervous I can’t even talk straight.”
Chelsea giggled nervously.
“I love you.” He said and saw her look down
at her hands. “I’ve loved you from the instant we met each other, from
the
moment I saw you in the super market that time, and every moment since.
I don’t
want to have to choose between you and my job, and I don’t intend to,
because I
don’t see why we all can’t exist happily together.” He touched her
cheek with a
finger and saw tear-filled eyes look back up at him. “I want to be with
you all
the time. I can’t tell you how crazy I got when I saw you and Terry
doing
scenes, or when Eric was hovering around. And when you were sleeping
earlier I
couldn’t take my eyes of you. I can’t keep away.”
Chelsea sniffled gently and a relieved laugh
escaped her lips, and before long she had wrapped her arms around his
neck and
was inches away from his face.
“I would stay with you a thousand nights
Michael Palin, if they’re anything like this one.”
He pulled her close to him and smiled happily
into her face, feeling for the first time in a long while like a whole
person again.
“It can be arranged,” he said and kissed her
passionately on the mouth.
*************************************************************************************************************
The smell of coffee and bagels wafted up to
her as she snuggled further into the duvet and closed her eyes against
the warm
morning sunshine. She stretched out feeling comfortable and at peace
and
realised with a start that she was still wearing her clothes.
Her mind wandered back to the previous
evening and the admission Michael had made about the way he felt. She
smiled
happily as memories flooded her vision, and she grinned as she
remembered with
how much passion she had kissed him before hand. There had been nothing
hidden
in his kiss and when they had made their way up to his room there had
been no
awkwardness, no anxiousness, no self-consciousness, their eyes never
leaving
each others and their hands touching gently.
The last thing Chelsea remembered was lying on his bed, his
mouth on hers and his fingers gently caressing her cheek. She could
still feel
his arms wrapped around her waist, his cradling her in his arms and
their quiet
breathing as each fell into comfortable sleep.
And now here she was, lying in his bed,
covered in his duvet and smelling the beautiful smells of breakfast
wafting her
way.
Pulling back the bedclothes she realised she
would have to find out what he was making, and couldn’t simply lie back
in bed
to wait for him to bring it to her. Slipping her feet into a pair of
his
slippers she crept quietly downstairs and followed the smells, and very
soon
the sounds of whistling. Putting her head around the corner of the
kitchen door
she grinned as she saw Michael’s wet head bopping from side to side
while the
radio hummed out another rock and roll number, shifting his weight from
one
foot to the other in a dance over the top of the cooker hob. She
relished the
sight of him in a new white shirt and jeans, and couldn’t help but let
her eyes
wander over his back, his shoulders, his waist and, inevitably, his
bum.
She slid up behind him and slipped her arms
around his waist, causing him to flinch with surprise.
“Good morning Madame,
and how would one like ones sausages today? Burnt? Slightly done with
blood
still dripping out? Raw?”
Chelsea grinned and rested her head on his back.
“I like them any which way you want to make them.” She said and he
smiled,
flicking the eggs in the frying pan with oil before resting the spatula
on the
counter next to the cooker and turning around in her arms.
Michael smiled down into her face and put his
arms around her. “Did you sleep well?”
She nodded. “Like a log. I hope I didn’t bore
you too much, I know I slept pretty much as soon as my head touched the
pillow.”
Michael shook his head. “It was a comfort
just to have you there.” He kissed her tenderly before turning back to
his
pans.
“What are your plans for today then?” she
asked as she seated herself at the dining table,
seemingly clean from the previous nights meal. She noted the dishes sat
in the
drying rack and smiled to herself. He was certainly a
clean bachelor.
Michael shrugged. “I don’t have a lot on. I
know I have those scripts to learn but I’m really not in the mood right
now.”
“I could always help you go through them?” Chelsea offered and he
smiled at her from the
cooker.
“That would be lovely, but I think you might
want to get a change of clothes perhaps before you do anything else.”
Chelsea feigned shock. “Are you saying I smell
Michael Palin?”
He laughed gently. “I wouldn’t venture
anything of the sort!”
She pinched his side and he jerked away from
her. “Hey I’m cooking!” he said and she tickled him some more.
He grabbed her arms and brought her to him,
happy and carefree for the first time in many months.
She looked up at him and poked out her
tongue. “It’s not fair that you use brute strength against a poor
defenceless
woman!”
He scoffed and let go of her, but didn’t move
from the spot, until she reached out to kiss him. At that point he
stepped back
and she stumbled in front of him.
“You’re not playing fair Palin.”
He shrugged and turned back to the steaming
hob, feigning disinterest, and turning off all of the pots.
“All’s fair in love and war,” he said pertly
and she grabbed his side again.
He lunged for her and grabbed her as she
tried to run around the counter and suddenly they were on the floor
wrestling
and laughing like children.
Eventually the giggling subsided and they lay
in each other’s arms, content and comfortable. Michael pushed away the
mess of
hair that had fallen over her face and she laid her hands on his chest.
He was about to kiss her when a loud ringing
noise broke the silence.
“Shit!” Michael said and leapt to his feet.
“What is it Mike? You giving up on this fight
so easily?” she teased.
Michael waved his hands in front of his face.
“No, no, this fight is yet to be concluded. I think you should take a
look out
of my window though.”
Chelsea was slightly bemused as Michael led her
to the front window in the lounge, but lost all feelings of amusement
when she
saw who was standing on his doorstep.
“What are we gonna do now?” she asked. There
had been an unspoken agreement between them already that nothing should
be said
about their relationship until they were both ready to face it, and at
that
moment in time there was a very formidable looking John Cleese stood
outside
the flat, just waiting to burst in on them and save them the trouble of
telling
anyone.
Michael looked around. There was evidence of
her all over his flat. He was sure that if John wanted to look hard
enough he’d
realise that she was wearing the same clothes she had had on the
previous day,
that she looked tousled and like she’d slept in them. The truth was she
had,
but he didn’t want John getting hold of their relationship before he
had had
the chance to sort things out in his mind.
“I’m going to have to let him in. He knows
I’ll be here, I’m never anywhere else.”
Chelsea nodded. “Well let him in then. Let’s deal
with whatever he says as it comes.”
Michael nodded, and looked slightly like a
rabbit caught in headlights. “What shall we say if he asks why you
haven’t
changed, or why you look like you’ve not combed your hair today, or why
I’ve
cooked you breakfast?”
“Michael,” she said and touched his hand,
“let’s deal with things as they happen. Ok?”
He nodded and then ran downstairs as the
doorbell rang again and Chelsea seated herself on the sofa, gathering
papers
around her to firstly hide the wine glasses, and secondly to make
herself look
busy, and as though she’d been here a while, busying herself with
scripts.
John’s voice crept into the hallway and then
suddenly he was upon her and Michael crept off to the kitchen to dish
the
breakfast.
“Oh hello Chelsea, what are you doing here?” he said as he
sat down in the armchair.
Chelsea flashed her best smile and tried to look
honest. “I wanted to go over a few things in the scripts with Mike, he
said he didn’t mind so I came straight over. He’s
even making me a proper breakfast bless him.” She said as Michael
entered the
room and handed her a plate of steaming bacon, eggs, sausage, tomato,
toast and
mushrooms.
“Well you never offer me breakfast when I
come round Mike!” John said and play punched him on the leg as he
disappeared
into the kitchen for some brown sauce.
“You don’t usually stay the night John.” Came
the reply and Chelsea saw Michael’s hand freeze as it headed towards
the
cupboard and he shot an “I’m sorry,” glance into the lounge.
“You stayed the night?” John asked
incredulously. He shifted in his chair and Chelsea caught the small
smile playing on his
lips.
“Michael kindly offered me the spare room
after it got a bit late when I came round last night. He’s a great
host, gave
me towels and everything.”
John nodded slowly, still looking sceptical.
Michael waved his fork as he swallowed a
piece of egg and toast. “S’why she looks like shit this morning.” He
said and Chelsea choked on her mushrooms. “S’coz she’s
still wearing yesterdays clothes and smells.”
John screwed up his nose. “You’re so polite
Palin,” he said, “I was beginning to think you were the host of the
year and
then you insult your guest. How terribly rude.”
Michael stuck two fingers up at him and
carried on eating.
“What brings you here then John?” Chelsea asked, trying desperately to
shift the
conversation away from herself, feeling that John was
beginning to believe them.
John looked slightly humbled. “I came around
to apologise Mike. I really didn’t mean to offend you yesterday, but
you can
understand my concerns can’t you? This is a big deal for us all, and I
know how
much you’ve wanted a programme of your own for a while now. We’re doing
so
well, I couldn’t bear to see it all go down the toilet, if you pardon
the
expression.”
Michael nodded and then smiled. “You don’t
need to apologise. Just lately there’ve been things happening to me
that I have
no control over and I’ve been letting them take over my life. I know I
should’ve told you guys, and I’m sorry for that.”
John nodded. “Well as long as you don’t hate
me.”
Michael poked out his tongue. “I never said I
didn’t hate you.”
John feigned a sulk and smiled gently and
settled back in his armchair.
“So what do you guys have planned for the
rest of today?”
Michael shrugged. “I have some things I need
to catch up on.” He said vaguely and Chelsea took a bite of her toast.
“I have to go visit my mother. She hasn’t
seen me in all of two weeks so is starting to panic.”
John nodded. “Eric’s asked me to spend the
day at his. I don’t think things are going well in the Idle
household.”
Michael nodded. “He’s been unhappy there for
some time.”
John scoffed. “Just look at the state of him!
He’s such a floozy, I’ve never met a man more into
women than Eric in my life!”
“Surely he isn’t that bad!” Chelsea said astonished.
Michael looked at her as though she had three
heads. “You’ve got to be kidding, this is Eric we’re
talking about! He’s the guy who had four women on the same night, in
the same
room without either of them ever finding out about the other!”
Chelsea’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe
that for a moment!” she said. “He doesn’t act that way around me at
all!”
John folded his arms and sat back. “That’s
because if he did have a pop at you he’d be out on his rear.”
Chelsea’s eyes darted to Michael who’d suddenly
whitened.
“What do you mean?” she asked timidly.
John shrugged. “Just what I
said. We all made a pact when you first started working here that none
of us would try and seduce you, for the simple fact that it’s bad
management.
We’d only end up hurting each other, the show, you, the BBC. It’s too
risky to
get involved emotionally with a girl who works for us. And he who does
so is on
pain of death.”
Chelsea felt her stomach begin to churn and she
suddenly felt as though she’d been punched there. “So what you’re
saying is
that if any of you guys wanted to get involved with me, and I with you,
then
they would be removed from the show?”
John thought and then nodded. “You both
would.”
“Seems a little harsh doesn’t it?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, when you consider what
might happen if something went wrong in the relationship, as we’ve
learnt to
our cost before!”
“And what happens if it’s love?” croaked
Michael and John shifted in his seat.
“It will never be love Mike cause there’s no way a relationship would
be able to take
place under our noses without any of us realising!”
There was a heavy silence as the pair
continued eating and John looked about himself, glad he’d made a point
clear
and someone had actually listened for once.
Chelsea was the first to break the silence. “Say,
for arguments sake, that I was seeing someone in the group, purely
hypothetical
you understand. Just so I get this straight in my mind.”
John nodded.
“And we saw each other behind everyone’s back,
no one knew…”
“An impossibility,”
John interjected.
“….yes, but say you didn’t, for instance,
would you fall out with the member I was seeing? Would you hate them
for it?”
John shook his head adamantly. “I don’t think
hate is the word to use here. We might be a little shocked, but I’m
sure we
wouldn’t hate. We would feel hurt at not being told before hand,
or uneasy because we would have to replace, or essentially do without
the
person and yourself, but ultimately I think we’d still get on.”
Michael glanced at Chelsea as he collected her plate.
“Does that clarify things for you?” John
asked, and then a sneaky grin spread across his face. “Why the interest
anyway?” he asked, “you got your eye on someone?”
Chelsea smiled widely. “You know I only have eyes
for you John.”
He reddened slightly and stood up. “I’m sure
it’s true,” he said and walked towards the kitchen, bidding her
farewell as he
did so.
“See you soon Mike, and once again I’m sorry
for the things I said.”
Michael waved him away and when he heard the
door slam behind him he flumped down onto the couch.
“We can’t say a word.” He said resolutely.
Chelsea nodded. “I don’t know how long this
programme is going to run for, but I promise you if we fall out I will
NEVER
smash up the set or cause a scene on the show.”
Michael grinned and held out his hand for her
to come closer.
She snuggled into the crook of his arms and
kissed his neck.
“It’s sort of exciting though, don’t you
think?” he said softly.
Chelsea looked up. “How do you mean?”
“Well thrilling,” he said, “to have a secret
and to be really sneaky about it all. It makes me feel excited.”
She grinned mischievously. “How
excited?”
He pressed his lips to hers and squeezed her
close. When she pulled away she looked into his eyes breathless.
“That’s quite exciting.” She said and Michael
grinned. “And now Mr Palin, there’s a small matter of
an unfinished battle we have to settle.”
Michael tickled her stomach with a finger and
then helped her up off the sofa.
“I think this can best be concluded in my
bedroom.”
Chelsea nodded seriously. “Yes, I think we’ll
have sufficient protection on the nice soft surface. At least we won’t
get
injured up there.”
He pulled her close and kissed her before
picking her up in his arms, defiant of her squeals, and took her
upstairs. This
time she knew she wasn’t going to fall asleep with her clothes on.
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