While I Was Shopping: Part 8

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.

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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.

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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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