Bert felt and saw Delilah pull away. He didn't want her to go, not on his account. For his was a lonely beat.

"Delilah..!" his tone was scared that she might run. "Please don't turn away!"

He didn't want to chase another woman away. He wanted to hold her, kiss her even, and who knows, eventually make her an honest woman again. For the first time, Bert felt some measure of kinship with those poor souls he had shackled as they cried or fought with in the street after a woman. Each desiring some measure of love fuelled by desperation and drink.

Her lips wobbled a little when he protested. "I am sorry, Bert, I t'ought ye'd not mind..." she looked down at her hands, her ears pink at that. She swallowed audibly, looking vulnerable at the moment, "It's been so long... I... I don't know what came o'er me."

"It's been a long time fer me too," Bert said simply. "We'll do as ye suggest and court nice an' slow. Ye know, the way it might have been done had we met when we were younger."

She nodded softly, finding the ground rather attractive at the moment. She managed a half smile, though genuine enough, she felt a little embarrassed by her own actions. "As ye say, Bert," she murmured, stopping herself from adding a "y" at the end of his name.

"What do you say to it Delilah?" he used her full name because of its exotic sound, rather the shorter, yet decidedly more affectionate 'Dee'. He continued, "Flowers, poems, and my personal favourite, pastries. Ye know, with the sweet stuff in the center." he added with a grin.

He was talking her language. "Aye, Bert, t'at would be lovely." She was smiling again. Her eyes twinkled and her lashes lowered a little.

The natural world seemed to respond in sympathy to the new couple, the sun seemed brighter, colours more vivid, perhaps the Coal tits were commenting on the couple with their birdsong. Yet as they walked, a subject weighed on Bert. He felt it best to bring it up now. His plodding policeman's pace slowed even more as if there was a clue that caught his eye.

"Delilah," he paused, the words large and pregnant hanging in his mouth like some terrible sword of judgement. "Do you want a family..in the future?"

"Once upon a time," she said softly, "But it didn't werk out." Her eyes lowered to the ground as they walked. "I wouldn't mind a little one, but t'isn't necessary fer me to be happy." She said to the man. Her eyes lifted to his. "Tis a fact of just wantin to carry on wit' me mate's bloodline and bein' honored ta help keep it goin." She smiled.

Bert's cheeks puffed out in relief. He thought Delilah might have been driven by her body to pop out kin at all costs. Jesus.. all Bert had to do was look at his hapless colleague Constable Neil and his herd of pint-sized hooligans with a screeching mother-in-law in tow for a picture of domestic bliss. Throw in Bert's personal experiences with the toe rags of Teeside and children, together with women who rode bicycles, were to be avoided.

Yet a man's duty to was to be a husband and provider. Maybe one child, one good, responsible, upright child would be okay..

Bert looked at Delilah. What was she like with kids? She herself was beautiful.. would their child take after the mother or be as ugly as an old boot?

She tilted her head when he didn't say anything else, but he looked relieved so she gave a soft shrug and looked ahead as they walked. "I cannot wait fer me new home ta go to. I'll be happy ta be there and werk fer Mister Vaughn. T'at family I was wit' before... well... they need Jesus." She muttered.