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“I’m glad,” was all Jules said. She snuggled even closer.
“You know, I was thinking that maybe we should get married.”
Jules froze. “You were?” she asked. “I mean, you asked me that once before.”
Billie turned to her. “I did, didn’t I? But that was for someone else. This time I’m asking for me. Just for me. Not because of prophecies or anything else, but because I’d like to marry you, Jules Hawthorne.”
“Would you?” Jules asked, face creasing in amusement.
“You do my head in,” said Billie. “You irritate me no end and you push me and challenge me. You make me tear my hair out and make me complete at the same time. I’ve never loved anyone like you, Jules, and I hope I never have to again.”
She stared out of the window for long enough that Jules thought maybe she wasn’t going to speak again.
“You’re like coming home,” Billie said finally, turning back to Jules and looking at her almost defiantly. “So? What do you say?”
Jules looked at Billie’s sweet face, her dark eyes, her dark hair, her freckles and her mismatched eyebrows and thought that she’d never seen anyone so perfect in her life. And suddenly the thought of being married to Billie Brooke was the best thing she could think of.
“Yes,” she said.
“She said yes, she said yes!” Agatha cried from the seat behind them.
Both Billie and Jules turned to see Ag standing up on her seat and announcing their engagement to the rest of the bus who began to cheer and whoop.
“Sure you want to stay married to Whitebridge?” Jules hissed to Billie.
Billie grinned. “Can’t think of a place I’d rather be hitched to,” she said, as she stood up, one hand on the seat-back to keep her steady as she pulled Jules up with her.
“Speech, speech,” shouted Sylv from the back of the bus.
“You all sit down back there or I’ll pull over,” the bus driver shouted back.
Jules looked at Billie, at the pure happiness etched on her face, the grin on her lips, and suddenly her life felt very full indeed.
And then Billie was pulling her into a kiss as the half of the village that were on the bus shouted and cheered. Someone must have texted because the bus behind them carrying the rest of the village began flashing its lights and beeping its horn.
But Jules was far too busy kissing Billie Brooke to notice that. A kiss that lasted as long as it took the bus driver to drive down Whitebridge high street and stop in front of the little village school. The school that one day, not too far in the future, Jules and Billie Brooke’s son would attend. He would show no interest in music at all. But both his mothers loved him more than they’d ever expected to love anything in their lives.
