After Dunkirk [Discontinued]

Forty-Nine ~ Unpacked

***Georgina's POV

"Here's the last one," Tommy grunts, setting a box down in the living room amongst the others. He takes his handkerchief from his trousers' back pocket and he wipes his face down before tucking it back in his pocket.

We've been up since the crack of dawn hauling our packed boxes from Mum's house to mine and Alex's house just in time for our wedding tomorrow. While Alex and Tommy have been driving back and forth from house to house, Mum and I have been unpacking the boxes they've dropped off.

When Alex first brought Mum and I to see the house after he purchased it, he told us all that he had planned to fix it up. Even though I couldn't envision what the house would look like, I trusted my fiancé to make it our dream house.

For the past three months, Alex and Tommy have gone straight from work to the house to work on it, sometimes putting in fifteen-hour work days. When he finally revealed the finished product this morning when we arrived with the first set of boxes, I thought we were at the wrong house.

But when I saw the number above the mailbox slot, it hit me that this was really our house.

I'm marrying the most wonderful man tomorrow. Oh my goodness, I'm going to be a married woman. Alex is going to be my husband. Oh my.

"Georgie, has all the unpacking and cleaning fumes gotten to you?" he laughs at my expense.

"Uhm, no, I was just thinking. So, that's all of the boxes, hey?" I ask, standing up from the floor where I've been unwrapping my ceramic angel figurines. "Where's Alex?"

"Underneath the car."

"What? I-is he okay?"

"Calm down, Georgie, of course he's okay. He told me he heard a funny sound coming from the engine on the way over here, so he's checking it out."

"Oh okay then," I sigh in relief. "I thought-, never mind. Anyways I hope it's not serious."

"Naw, it's probably nothing and even if it is, Al can fix it."

"I know he can," I grin proudly. "My fiancé can fix anything."

"I'll leave you be to swoon by yourself," he teases and I stick my tongue out at him, making him laugh. "Alright, where's Mum?"

"In the kitchen washing and putting up the China," I explain and he takes off his shoes before heading in there.

Exhaling a tired breath, I gather my figurines and arrange them on the mantle. I take a step back to admire them and I notice how dusty the tops of the blinds are over the bay window.

I grab the step stool Mum left out and I set it down in front of the window, gauging the perfect angle. With a feather duster in my right hand, I hold onto the handlebar with my left and climb the three steps.