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Freddie had never in his living memory liked the idea of church. As soon as he could he stopped going, the only exception being his mothers funeral and the very rare occasion that Bel dragged him along. But apart for those events he managed to avoid it. He never liked the idea of God and investing ones faith in something he wasn't quite sure about, well- It was never going to be something he was going to do well.
She went though. Not routinely. Once a month at best. She would take a seat at the back at the edge of the pew and try and hide away. She did not hide because she was ashamed of herself for her lack of attendance or because she did not want to be seen but simply because hiding gave her some peace. Her life was assembled by different fragments that had somehow built into a mis-match wall with the slightest blow of just the right amount of wind could topple over and engulf them all.
For once in her life she even felt like she fitted in at church. The high number of men to women ratio and being in a place where it was pretty much 50/50 meant she didn't stick out like a sore thumb and occasionally she liked that, the feeling of simply being another passer by. The way that in church ones power didn't become before ones personal qualities.
How many ever times Freddie expressed his feelings about all the floors of religion and how many ever times she questioned her own belief, she always returned. And the truth was she was never quite sure why. She convinced herself that it was because it had been ingrained on her from such a early age, ever since she could remember she would be dressed up and marched along to church.
But she still wasn't sure how she could doubt something so much yet still get lured back to it time after time. He told her it was because she could think of no better answers. And she would always question him what answers he had and he would reply with, he didn't quite know yet but he was sure something would come along.
It wasn't that Freddie flat out dismissed the idea of there being a God as there wasn't any proof against the idea yet but the fact that there was no proof for meant he could never 100 percent agree with it. He quite liked the idea of churches being about lots of people coming together (that being the only part he liked) but if he was being completely honest; he did like a good old hymn to sing along to. And when he was dragged along by Bel he did sing his heart out which earned him nudges in the ribs and glares from Bel. And then the reminder afterwards that he was tone death and could not sing for toffee. He would then tease about how her voice was not much better, but it was. She had a very good singing voice that she carried around with her.
Sometimes he tried to persuade her sing in some sort of organized group or event, once even giving her a flyer for a local choir, but she never did anything about it. He told her it was a shame and she shouldn't waste good but she would always murmur something about being too busy in reply.
It probably wasn't so much timing he thought to himself occasionally it was more the social aspect of it. Out of the two of them she defiantly had the better social skills. She could talk to heads of states and even BBC commissioners in the most sophisticated of ways, causing even them to watch her in and ponder, but she was always suspicious. She always believed that someone wanted a part of her. That was the problem. She couldn't find it in herself to be surrounded by a large group of nice, normal people. It was a sad fact, but it was part of Bel Rowley. Part of her allure.
In turn this also effected men she choice to allow into her life the "stupid bloody bankers" as Freddie called them. They did all want a part of her as such but it was a part she was willing to give and usually no one was ever damaged and if they were she would make sure it wasn't her. She did not do it to be selfish. Bel Rowley spent her life thinking of other people's actions and reactions.
There was something different though when she met Hector Madden. The man with the face that could hold a nation, the man with the voice and charisma that could get him almost anywhere. That time she let herself slip slightly off centre. Because for all of Hector's perfections there was truly something curious about him, something that made Bel talk herself into wanting to understand him.
She did once lay awake at night thinking that maybe Hector and her could run away to France together, and be like a couple from one of those terrible books her mother read. She wasn't quite sure why through, maybe it was the way his shirts hugged her body in a way that Freddie's shirts never could or maybe it was the way that together they did look like something from a film, not Casino Royale, but a star filled Hollywood blockbuster. Something felt right when she was with Hector. Not perfect but right. She may have even at one point if asked, said that she loved him or some other naive superlative about intense emotions for another human being. But that would have very probably been manic-impulse.
Freddie on the other hand was very careful with women. So careful in fact that Lix Storm had been the first. He would never tell anyone of course, not even Bel, (although he guessed that she already new it). Hand on heart up to point of asking Camille to marry him it had really "only ever been her."
He thought it was love that night on the bank of the Seine, because how was he supposed to know if it wasn't? It was not the same feeling he had for Bel but it was something he had never felt before and so anyone in that situation would assume it as love. He didn't have wild dreams about his future with Camille like he did about Bel involving sea planes, Lucern and Gilbert and Maude, but just not having wild dreams did not mean they were not in love after all they were just wild dreams.
There was a mist in Paris one he could never quite seem to escape. The overpowering smell of perfume and the light of the city seemed to haze his eyes and mind. Maybe that's why he married Camille.
Whenever he thought of Paris it somehow always linked back to the night he told Bel about Camille, red lipstick, whiskey and a smile on her lips that translated to "the night is ours, lets waste our precious youth" she came promising to let the world have her. She was about to leap. Then Camille came holding a knife, wearing only a jumper. From that moment on he knew Bel was the friend he once had.
When the buzz in his life slowed down and he was given time to think he couldn't help his mind wondering back to the days before The Hour the days before Hector and Camille, and he would remember how simple it had all been. His life ran like clockwork. He would bicker with George up to the point of him "losing his job" then rant about it with theatrical hand gestures to Bel, at some point he would mange to write a story, then of course followed by the show itself and then he would either go home to his ever worsening father or drink him self silly and dance all night with Bel.
They would go home together some nights when the stars formed pictures in the sky and the light drifted though her hair. All most always back to hers, they would then proceed to waste the rest of the night drinking cheap wine and smoking the last of their cigarettes. He could not possibly at the time comprehend how he could have been happier.
Although they didn't like to admit it they were both fragile people, Bel and Freddie. They were not the kind of fragile that meant that they would be broken by words and wars but the kind that could never quite sit still for long enough. It was not through lack of trust (their faith in each other proved that) it was more their eminence sense of suspicion, their feeling that everyone had a story and how could anyone's be good.
That was why they needed each other. That was what had kept them side by side for so long, because even if it was their job to question everything , they both needed someone who would always be right next to them; be their steady seance of reassurance that everything was good with the world.
Their relationship was the most complicated yet simplest of things. On one hand it, was simply two people who cared for each other yet; it was crazy and impossible and simultaneously exquisite. They could go from a bickering old couple to brother and sister to soul-mates desiring to be together every time one of them flicked their tongue. Because no matter what, Bel Rowley and Freddie Lyon were special people. They were going to change the world and when questioned "how?" Their reply would always be "just you wait and see."