Monica slept through the night, only to wake up to a queasy hangover.

She squinted in the bright morning light to read her brass alarm clock on her bedside table.

Half-nine in the AM. At least two hours later than she would normally wake up to get Johnny and Roshni ready for school. Thankfully, today was a Sunday.

"Mrrrowwww..."

Luke and Leia Skywalker were sitting on the pillows on Freddie's side of the bed, watching Monica intently as she lay on her stomach under the covers, half-asleep and half naked as she struggled to open her eyes.

"Getting their hairs all over the place, the best form of revenge," she thought with a smile, then with bitterness, "Not that Freddie cares, of course... yet he doesn't even like me taking the twins into mummy and daddy's bed when they're sick!"

As Monica reached over to gently pet the two calico kittens her stomach and mind started to churn with too much alcohol and regrets from her indistinct and murky recollections of the night before. Her meeting with Cliff Richard and Sir Laurence Olivier at the party was the first faux pas she had in a long time that she wasn't going to forget in a hurry, especially when she didn't recognise whom the latter was.

"Oh, I'm getting cat kisses now, am I? How nice" She giggled gently as Luke and Leia Skywalker affectionately licked her face and scrambled around her head.

To tell the truth, Monica didn't remember much of her final moments when she was last awake except that she was arguing with Freddie one minute and getting bundled up into the back of a taxi by him the next. Everything else after that was a blur, and in her mind it was not worth dwelling on.

But at that moment in time, she was stuck between getting up to get a glass of water, for her sore throat craved some form of liquid that wasn't alcohol. Or continuing to lay under the warm cocoon of her blanket both suffering and recuperating until somebody came to her rescue.

So she was relieved when she heard a knock outside, and the sounds of small voices outside the master bedroom.

The slider doors whirred open, followed by both Johnny and Roshni quietly calling for her, "Mummy... mummy!!"

Monica propped herself up onto her elbows, and looked her shoulder at her beloved children's small faces peeping through the gap, "Yes?"

"Wake up!" The twins suddenly burst in through the slider doors, still wearing their pyjamas, "We've got a surprise for you!"

Phoebe appeared and followed behind them, donning the kitchen apron and presenting a sumptuous-looking breakfast on the wooden fold-out bed tray that he carried.

"Oh, for me?!" Monica exclaimed in delight, forcing a smile as she sat up and held the duvet covers up to herself, "Mother's Day isn't for another few weeks!"

"Phoebe let me crack the eggs into the mixing bowl and flip the slices of bacon myself!" Johnny bragged as he and his sister clambered up onto the mattress of their parent's bed.

"He did, did he? How kind" she opened her arms to them both as Phoebe placed the tray on her lap.

"And he taught me how to make porridge in the microwave on my own!" Roshni added proudly, snuggling into her mother's side.

"Oh, aren't you a big girl!" Monica leaned down to kiss both of their heads, and sincerely told them, "Thank you... and to you too Phoebe for supervising them"

"Ce n'est pas un problème, madam" Mr Freestone bashfully said in French.

The mouth-watering aromas of the feast below her wafted into her nostrils; a small bowl of porridge oats with a spoon of honey, a few slices of bacon and scrambled egg, buttered toast cut into triangles, fluffy and misshapen pancakes that had clearly been made by a child and drizzled with maple syrup, and a pint-sized glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice.

"You can probably tell that Johnny's been at the pancakes already" Phoebe remarked the top slice in which a small portion had already been hastily sawed off with a butter knife.

"Did not!" Johnny stubbornly defended, picking up one of the Skywalker kittens and holding it to his shoulder.

Monica lifted her head as she chuckled, but her smile and any feelings of rosiness disappeared slowly when her eyes met the moustached, kimono-donning man who was sheepishly standing at the bedroom doorway as he held a purring Tiffany in his arms.

"But of course. Whatever happened last night, the man cannot find it in him to say sorry..." she realised what was happening, for only Mr Mercury's generosity could suffice for such a premeditated big breakfast in front of her when it was coming from a place of guilt.

She playfully asked Johnny and Roshni with a smirk, "How much did daddy pay you both to make this?"

Freddie's face fell slightly, and he looked away whilst the twins both exclaimed, "Mum?! He didn't pay us!"

"Yeah! He thought it would be nice!!" said another.

"Now now, let your mum eat her breakfast," Phoebe intervened, ushering them off the bed, "Take Luke and Leia with you"

Without hesitation Johnny and Roshni both picked the kittens up from the bed and rushed to the seating area beside the doors to the terraced balcony.

"I don't know where to begin, maybe the porridge first..." Monica gathered her cutlery, looking back down at her lap.

"Does she or doesn't she remember anything from Dave's party?" feeling conflicted, Freddie watched her tuck into her breakfast, seemingly without a care in the world and almost as if the night before hadn't happened.

The whole time she ate, Monica could feel and hear Freddie walk towards the bed as she shovelled her spoon into the porridge oats.

He sat on his side of the mattress atop the duvet covers, slowly shuffling nearer and nearer. Monica felt her skin crawl as he inched closer to her, slipping his arm around the mahogany headrest behind her yet being careful not to startle her.

"How are you feeling today, darling?" she heard him ask in her ear.

The tone in Freddie's voice didn't sound as belligerent as it did in the taxi last night.

"Better" she spoke through a mouthful of oats.

He watched her pick up her knife and fork and move onto the bacon and eggs with such gluttony, knowing that she was refusing to speak any more.

Monica could feel his intent chocolate gaze beside her and his strong arm behind her, but she tried not to let it stifle her.

"I didn't pay Johnny and Roshni to make you breakfast, you know," he told her in an offhand manner, internally feeling a little deflated, "I thought it'd be a nice thing for them to surprise you after last night's news"

That was when she remembered Theo's phone call, "Damn, I lost my job as well, didn't I? What else could've happened?!"

"Oh, of course... it was only a joke, I didn't think that it would hurt your feelings" she set her knife and fork back down and drew her arms to herself.

"No, no, it's alright dearie," he assured her gently, "I-I suppose I also felt awful about what happened in the taxi last night"

"Oh yes, I don't remember a lot of it to be honest" she half-lied, now starting the pancakes.

"I expected you not to" he nodded, internally sighing in relief.

But she went on to explain, "As for my disgraceful behaviour at the bar-"

"It wasn't exactly disgraceful" he interrupted.

Monica cocked a brow, "Then what would you call it?"

"Humiliating," he wanted to say, but answered, "Loud, maybe?"

"Well, that 'loudness' was nothing but falsified confidence from being under the influence and starstruck."

"I bet it was wonderful to meet your childhood hero by chance" was all that he murmured.

But Monica rambled on with a little giggle, "I still cannot believe that Cliff Richard answered the questions that I didn't even pay attention to asking, you know?"

Freddie felt a little envious that she didn't feel the same degree of excitement when she met him all those years ago, even though that couldn't be helped.

But he didn't respond or show his annoyance, knowing at this point that it was almost impossible to have a conversation with her and not have it turn into an argument. He daren't tell her about how he came about knowing Anita Dobson either, for he could sense that Monica was jealous last night even if she downplayed it.

So, he might as well avoid ruining the lovely morning any further and allow her to defend her actions:

"I wasn't getting drunk to spite you or anything," She quietly and carefully continued as she sawed off one bitesize piece of pancake after another, "I was just trying to have a good night, like you were."

Freddie stayed quiet. He understood her actions and motives, for he too used to be an awful mess before she came into his life, but he couldn't find it in himself to wilfully confess it to her.

His silence concerned Monica. She chose not to mention what Sir Laurence had said to her either, for she knew that it would only make Freddie hurt. Besides, there was only one piece of Mr Olivier's advice that she could remember clearly:

"Do not let that man destroy you, otherwise you will destroy yourself".

Freddie had been studying her features the whole time.

"Poor Phoebe must've had such an ordeal putting her to bed last night" he thought, for her blue eyes were still smeared with mascara and her gelled-back brown hair was now a greasy mess.

He thought aloud when he noticed it on the side of her face, "How on earth did you get that bruise?"

"What bruise?" she mumbled into her glass of orange juice.

"There" he reached up and pressed her fingers to the small purple smear on her left temple, touching her for the first time that morning.

"Oww!" Monica hissed, holding her head in pain.

Then Freddie recalled how she exclaimed in pain when she banged her head against the doorframe as he pushed her into the taxi last night. He was never that rough with her before.

"Hmm... I definitely remember tripping up, but I don't remember falling over flat" Monica inspected the damage in her bedside mirror.

Freddie kept his regretful mouth shut, choosing not to tell her the truth as to how she got it, for he already felt bad enough.

"Never mind," Monica nonchalantly shrugged and put her mirror back down again before picking her knife and fork back up, "I better finish as much of this as I can before it all gets cold"

Freddie read the situation as the right moment to shoehorn into the conversation what he was itching to say to her all morning. At last, he apprehensively dropped the bomb:

"By the way, I plan on heading back to Munich for two weeks during Easter... I-I have another few songs to dust up, that's all"

Monica slowly stopped munching and looked at Johnny and Roshni playing with Luke and Leia at the seating area.

"But that's when they have their spring break from school" she almost whispered.

"Yes, I know it is short notice... but I would rather like to get this album over with"

She set her knife and fork down, "Then what?"

"I don't know, but the European tour might be this summer if we're lucky. You can all come along to a few of our stops if you'd like" Freddie unwillingly suggested to keep the peace between them.

"He doesn't want us to be there," Monica sensed the discomfort and hesitance in his voice, "I bet Anita is going to be there, that's why"

But she reluctantly complied, "We shall figure something out when the time comes closer... Did you apologise to Johnny yet?"

"Apologise for what?"

"For calling him dim a while ago," she nonchalantly answered, taking another gulp of orange juice, "Johnny has been off with you ever since"

"How could I forget?" Freddie stared at his lap, "That was a few weeks ago. I thought he'd have forgotten about it by now"

"Well, most children don't forget when their parents are arseholes to them, Fred," Monica flatly told him as she lifted the napkin and pat the corners of her mouth dry, "You and him probably should make amends before you go to Munich"

Freddie opened his mouth to make another excuse, but her Motorola that Phoebe had thoughtfully put on its charging cradle before she went to bed started to ring from the side table.

"Mmm," Monica spluttered on the orange juice and frantically snatched her phone and answered it, "Hello?"

"It's Theo here," her ex boss sounded in her ear, and she felt glad that Freddie wouldn't be able to hear the conversation, "I finished writing your personal statement if you're ready for me to fax it over"

"Oh great, thank you!" she chirped eagerly, "I will check the machine in a bit"

"Check the machine for what?" Freddie thought, wondering why she sounded so excited, "I thought she got made redundant, for Christ's sake"

"No problemo. If you're not happy with it then give me a ring and we can read it over" Theo told her, cool as a cucumber.

"I'm sure it's fine, thank you so much again" Monica was careful to not give away too much.

He waited for her to utter her goodbye before hanging up, and asked, "Who was that?"

"Just Theo," Monica neatly arranged the half-empty plates and cutlery on her tray, and fibbed, "He wants me to go over a few documents, notice of termination and all that..."

Freddie watched in the corner of his eye as she stood up and carefully lifted the breakfast tray, and asked "Where are you going now?"

He was hoping that she would say one of the en-suite bathrooms to take a bath or shower. After all, they were both in desperate need of a wash, and perhaps he could join her and make love to her if she let him. He couldn't bring himself to apologise, but if she would let him hold her close again then surely that meant things were alright between them again, didn't it?

But to his disappointment Monica answered casually, "To finish eating this in the office"

"So you're going to work on a Sunday for a job that you don't even have anymore?!"

"No, I need to start hunting for a new one," she hesitantly lied, holding her tongue as she wanted to argue back, "Why so surprised? You're working in the studio from seven am to eleven at night these days!"

Freddie stared vacantly into space as Monica got changed into her silk pyjamas under her pillow before she thanked and gave him nothing but a hasty kiss on the cheek, to which he turned and kissed her on the lips.

Monica widened her eyes, taken aback, before she broke away and turned to the twins, "And thanks you two for such a delicious breakfast"

Freddie ogled her as she sauntered out the slider doors and went straight ahead into the corridor, feeling a sense of relief at how smoothly their conversation went; Monica didn't seem to remember the malicious words that he had said to her in the taxi, nor did she seem too phased about his plans for Easter either.

However he straightened up against the headboard, not fully satisfied.

"Monica and I should be discussing wallpaper designs for the new baby's nursery right now, or buying it new clothes," he thought, "Or arguing over boy or girl names, not about Cliff Richard and Anita!"

Once again, his thoughts flashed back to the night of the miscarriage, and Monica collapsed on the en-suite bathroom floor with a bloody mess beneath her.

Before he realised, tears were streaming down his face.

"Are you crying, dad?" Roshni was standing at the foot of her parent's bed.

"No, no, darling..." he tried to suppress his snivels and sobs, and excused, "I just need to wash something out of my eye"

His daughter watched on curiously as he fled to the en suite, for he had nowhere else to hide but in the same room where all their problems started...

****

https://youtu.be/d4-1ASpdT1Y

A Few Hours Later...

"She's got it... your baby, she's got it..."

BBC Radio 1 was currently playing Bananarama's newly released cover of Venus on the transmitter sitting on the top of the cluttered desk in the Garden Lodge study.

"I'm your Venus, I'm you fire..." Monica, who was sitting at the desk, incomprehensibly hummed along to the song's chorus as she carefully slipped her last form and required copy of her personal statement into the envelope before sealing it shut and stamping it.

"All seven of them done, at last..." she thought aloud with satisfaction, adding it to the pile of the rest of the folded envelopes in front of her, "Time to get these off on their way."

All of the letters were her application forms addressed to her top university choices. She was careful to complete and pack them all without being found caught red-handed, but fortunately for her all members of the Garden Lodge household were left to their own devices. Freddie was distracted downstairs at the piano working from home on some solo songs of his own and not to be disturbed, Johnny and Roshni were running up and down the corridors immersed in one of their make-believe games, and Phoebe was occupied with a few tasks around the house.

"A Goddess on a mountain top... was burning like a silver flame..." Monica gently sang as she stood up and gathered the envelopes into her hands before heading to the doorway with a spring in her step.

She was fully washed and dressed and in a good, upbeat mood compared to this morning. Her hangover from the night before was finally lifted, there was a catchy and empowering song playing on the radio, and she had completed what she thought was the most difficult stage of the university application process. And now, all she had to do was head to the nearest Royal Mail letter box on Cromwell Crescent around the corner from Logan Place to post them to her top choices.

What else could get in her way?

"NNNEEEEEEEAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW..."

Johnny bolted out of his bedroom and knocked into his mother as she emerged from the office, the impact causing the letters to fly out of Monica's hand and onto the hallway floor.

"Oww!!" she clutched her side in pain as the boy sped off again.

"Johnny?! Watch where you're going!!" Phoebe, who was coming back from delivering Freddie's freshly-ironed clothing to the master suite, scolded him.

"Sorry mum!" Johnny called back as he sped down the mahogany stairwell, continually imitating the animated noises of an engine revving.

Phoebe tutted, and remarked the letters scattered at Monica's feet, "Let me help with those"

"No, it's fine" Monica grunted in discomfort as she sunk to her knees.

"It's okay, don't be silly!" he set the laundry basket down.

Monica tried not to panic, "No really, I'd rather-"

But it was too late.

Mr Freestone sifted through a few of the letters in his hand, and his face fell with concern when he saw that they were all addressed to different universities within the London area.

"Are you planning on paying for Johnny and Roshni's tuition already?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

She could hear Freddie playing high, fluttery notes on his grand piano below, like he usually would when he had writer's block. Meanwhile the twins were having a loud disagreement in the hallway.

But Monica was too stuck to intervene. She had the choice to go along with Phoebe's misconception and say yes, but her conscience said otherwise:

"Don't lie, Mo," the angel on her shoulder advised, "You've already told enough lies today, and it isn't even midday yet!"

So, she bit her bottom lip and shook her head honestly, awkwardly putting her hands on her hips.

When Phoebe put two and two together, the first words out of his mouth were, "Does Freddie know that you're applying for university?"

"No, he doesn't" she quickly answered, looking away guiltily.

"Have you even thought about when you are going to tell him?" he kept his voice down, for Johnny and Roshni's argument was ongoing downstairs.

Phoebe was right; there were definitely going to be no ifs. Very few times had she witnessed him being serious, and whenever he was it was never with her but usually with the twins when they were in trouble.

Monica quietly shook her head again, thinking, "Shit, I am done for"

As she planned for things to take a turn for the worst Phoebe silently handed the rest of letters back to her. There was nothing else that he could think of saying that would make the situation any better or worse.

Monica watched and waited for him to say something else as he picked up the laundry basket, but he carried on as if nothing happened.

He stopped at the top of the stairwell, giving her his final and only words of approval, "I suppose you and shall be guarding the letter box closely in the coming weeks. Good luck, then."

She gave a small smile of relief in return; she knew him well enough by now to trust him to keep her secret.

However, Monica could tell that Phoebe disapproved of her hiding it from Freddie. His reaction was just so thought-provoking that, later that afternoon as she hurried to the letter box around the corner, her mind swung to and fro with questions and doubt:

"Phoebe was right to be critical," she thought as she reflected, hiding the application letters underneath her green winter coat as she walked quickly and briskly, "Maybe it would've been easier if I just told him earlier"

But it just wasn't easy anymore. How could she when Freddie was so hard to read nowadays, not to mention barely making any time for her or the twins? He would have to try and understand why she had kept it hidden from him for so long, and accept the outcome.

Monica doubted further, "Besides, he would probably think that it was selfish of me to consider such a thing when I'm supposed to be grieving the miscarriage... although Paula would say otherwise"

In her mind she reaffirmed that it was her life and that she was doing this for herself and her future, not for Freddie.

At last, she reached the Cromwell Crescent post box on the street corner, and her heartbeat raced with anticipation in such a way that she hadn't felt in such a long time.

She slowly lifted the envelopes out from underneath her coat, and pressed them to her cold lips briefly and took a deep breath, almost as if to make a wish.

"Please, please get me out of this and make me a better person," she begged her destiny, "Please help me forget the pain that my body and mind has been through, or at least make it easier..."

With trembling hands, Monica slid each application into the slot one by one.

Now there was no turning back. She turned around and sped up her walking pace so that she could get back to Garden Lodge in time before Freddie could suspect anything.

But somewhere in the back of her mind, Monica also knew it was inevitable that one day her secret was going to be too difficult for her to keep hiding from him...