Work Text:
On the day six months after Alice had been released from the hospital, Cec stood in front of the Hartley residence and was losing his shit.
He was dressed in his best shirt, freshly cleaned, his hair was neatly combed back, and he was holding a bouquet that he swore had been almost as expensive as the ring in his chest pocket. Cec's hand went to the pocket to check if it was still there - it was - before he finally knocked.
The door was opened by a lanky boy in his teens, who was looking Cec up and down before asking, "What'dya want?"
"I would like to see Miss Alice Hartley, please," Cec said. He had practiced that sentence, like he had practiced everything he was going to say. Nothing could go wrong. Not after he had waited half a year.
Of course, he had never minded waiting, never once since that day in the hospital when Alice had told him to ask again in six months.
"Maaaa," the boy called over his shoulder, "there's a bloke here to see Alice."
A few seconds later, a stout, small woman appeared. She examined Cec critically, from his neat hair over the flowers to the shoes he had, maybe for the first time ever, polished until they (almost) shone. (Shoes like these weren't meant to shine, they were meant to protect the feet, which was in Cec's opinion the only purpose shoes ought to have.)
Finally, she asked, in exactly the same way as her son, "What'dya want?"
Cec began to sweat. This, he had not practiced. He had assumed getting to see Alice would be the easy part.
"I would like to see Miss Alice Hartley, please," he said, parroting his prepared sentence once more.
"Can't ya say nothing else?", the boy mocked. Mrs Hartley lightly clipped him round the ear and he scuttled off.
"What'dya want with my girl?" she asked defensively.
He started sweating more profusely. His carefully combed hair fell out of place. He had prepared a speech for this, but that had been meant for the man of the house, and only after he had actually asked Alice, and now he felt like he was up the creek without a paddle. Cec, being a man of little words because he rarely knew how to formulate his thoughts, hated talking to strangers. Which was why he made plans. Unfortunately, plans tended to go wrong, so he usually let Bert do the talking. But this was something he had to do alone.
So he tried to swallow down his fear, choked on it, and started into a coughing fit. He bent over and shook the flowers so hard they lost a few petals. Mrs Hartley was just watching him with growing annoyance.
This was going terribly wrong. Bert had told him that it would. But Bert didn't like that this was happening at all, so Cec had paid him no mind. His heart and mind were set, he'd decided. He had had six months to chicken out, but he hadn't, because he loved Alice. Had loved her from the first time he'd held her hand in the hospital. He didn't know if she loved him, too, especially now that she had had time to recover and make up her own mind about what she wanted. And it was fine, he lied to himself, if she had found out that she wanted something - or someone - else. Cec was just a poor cabbie, after all, and almost ten years older than her besides. But he had to try, at least. Which meant he had to get his shit together and demand to see her already.
He found his composure again, cleared his throat, and said, confidently, "Um."
Mrs Hartley was about to close the door on him when an angel appeared behind her. She was a vision of health and beauty, almost unrecognisable from the poor creature that bastard had dropped into Cec's cab on that fateful day. Her black hair was shining, her skin was rosy, and her smile was radiant. It shone bright enough to burn up all of Cec's anxiety.
"I've been waiting for you," she said with not a hint of reproach.
Her mother turned around. "This the bloke you were talking about?" She eyed Cec again. "Don't look like much."
"Maybe not, but he's wonderful," Alice insisted and pushed past her mother. Cec had the urge to take her hand. Embrace her. Kiss her, even, suddenly a truly scandalous thought.
But there was something he had to do first, and though he had planned this very differently, it didn't matter, because his nervousness had miraculously disappeared when he had laid his eyes on Alice again.
He offered her the flowers, which she took shyly. Then he fished the ring out of his breast pocket and knelt down, right there, on the stoop of her parents' house, while her mother was standing right behind her, and her brother was lingering curiously in the doorway.
For this, he had also planned a speech, but the words were gone from his head, all except the most important ones, which came out clear and certain:
"Will you marry me, Alice Hartley?"
Her mother grunted. Her brother hiccuped loudly. Alice smiled. "Yes," she said simply.
He did get to make his speech to her father after all, after having been lead into the living room, and though he stumbled through it he didn't care, because Alice was standing next to him, holding his hand.
Mr Hartley listened with a stony face. After Cec had finished, he said, "You saved our girl, didn't you? After that ... terrible business?"
"He did," Alice answered in Cec's stead.
"And you like him?", Mr Hartley asked of his daughter.
"Dearly", Alice confirmed.
"Good enough for me," her father said. "Long as you promise to treat her well, you have my blessing."
"I promise," Cec said hoarsely. He felt like he was about to cry, which was odd, because he had never been happier in all his life.
Alice escorted him outside, away from the prying eyes of her family, before she hugged him. "I hoped you would come," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
"Believe me now?", he asked quietly, a spark of mischief arising now that the stressful part was over. "That I didn't just ask you 'cause I felt sorry for you?"
"Yes", she said and made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. "I believe you."
"Told ya." Cec removed her from his shoulder to be able to look into her eyes. "Told ya it'd be apples."
They snuck a kiss, short, but true, and unlike anything Cec had felt before, and then Cec left to tell Bert. Bert wasn't going to he happy about this. But even he would come around eventually, of that Cec was sure. Because as long as Cec was happy that was, deep down, enough for Bert.
And Cec was so bloody happy. He hummed as he strolled back down the street towards the cab.