Ruth
She dreamed of Cyprus. The sunshine hot against her skin and the dazzling brightness of the blue of the Mediterranean against the startling scarlet and fushia of the island flowers. In her mind she could hear the children's voices, their shouts of pleasure as they played in the heat of the day.

And she dreamed of George – his arms around her, holding her close as their bodies tangled together under the sheets and the scent of the citrus blossom hung heavy in the night air.

Lucas
For some reason he wanted to trust Sarah Caulfield. He had to trust her.

At some point he had to let go of those years in prison and move on – shed the number that was imprinted on his mind and tattooed on his wrist and pass for normal once more. Somewhere deep in his mind he felt himself grasping on to the idea that Sarah would be his way in, his way back to evening telly, and curries on a Friday night and Sunday sleep ins and everything that was not waking at 3am in a cold sweat shivering with shock as water – imagined rather than real – choked down his throat.

Ros
She could feel herself softening. It was a strange thing to have to acknowledge and for the most part she ignored it. But some things made her notice it.

First there was Jo. It was obvious that she'd taken Bibi's death to heart. She'd never encouraged her to become emotionally involved with the girl, but Jo would be Jo and when things went wrong she took it hard.

And then there was Malcolm leaving. The first morning she'd come in to see his desk empty, something had come over her when she'd stood and stared dully at the space which he'd failed to occupy. It had took her a minute or two to identify that it was something like nostalgia, even regret perhaps. She shook herself briefly, wondering what was the matter with her. Malcolm was better off where he was and she wasn't about to become some kind of sentimental fool. That wasn't what her country needed from her and that wasn't Ros Myers.

Jo
There were days now when she didn't think of Adam, when she could go almost a week without seeing Zaf's face in her dreams, or imaging what his final days had been like.

The hurt inside of her had subsided a little and she could sometimes sleep without waking to find herself shaking with the memory of being pinned against the floor as she tried to focus on how the bars from the window had broken the light to cast shadows on the floor and swallow the dizzy nausea she could feel rising in her throat. She was beginning to forget that he had succeeded in making her hate herself more than she hated him.

She had told Ruth she wanted to think about the future, that they could start again afresh.

After all they had their whole lives ahead of them.

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Hope you liked it - please review and let me know. I wish they would stop getting rid of characters, sigh.