Author's note: All usual disclaimers apply.
I saw a comment from Anon99 about no M story, but it is there - For It is Written. Fan Fiction defaults to excluding M rated stories on the list, so if you haven't seen it, check the filters and change to include M. The best way to see new stories is the join the site (no one will ever know who you are) and then follow your favourite authors. That way an email appears in your inbox as soon as a new story or chapter is published.
Thanks for all your greetings, compliments and well wishes. May 2019 bring you all joy, good health and an abundance of ILM stories (hint hint other authors). P.S. DO NOT SPEED or run red lights, it is always dangerous, but more so at this time of the year.
Tommy Lynley prowled Howenstowe like a panther who had lost the trail of his prey. Twice he had stalked up the stairs, into his room, back into the library, out to the barn and now finally up to the cliffs. He stood looking out at the white caps of the breaking waves wishing he had known when to stay silent. As the brewing storm gathered dark clouds into menacing rows, he fingered the phone in his pocket. Should he ring her? Would she accept his apology? Had he left it too long? As the first of the rain spat down at him, he turned and jogged back to the house. By the time he arrived, it saturated him. With a sigh of resignation to his fate as a loser, he stomped upstairs to take a shower.
"Are you still moping around?" his mother asked when he walked into the library.
"I am not moping, Mother. I went for a walk and it rained. I simply wish to dry my hair by the fire."
"And I simply wish to have peace at New Year."
"You have peace. I'm not disturbing you. I won't even stay up to see the damned year out."
"Ring her."
"You are interfering where I have requested no advice."
"Oh, for heaven's sake Tommy! Stop being so damned poncy."
"Poncy?"
"Yes, I believe Barbara's description is accurate. Would it really hurt you to admit you were wrong and that you miss her?"
"Why do you assume I was wrong? Why can't she be the one who said unspeakably hurtful things?"
"Maybe she did, and maybe you are perfectly innocent, but Barbara wouldn't have said whatever she did that was so hurtful without cause. There must have been a provocation, some reason. So why don't you apologise for that, and let her apologise for what she said, and then life can go back to normal for the rest of us."
Tommy sat on the couch and ran his hands through his hair. "It's not that easy."
"For you to admit you were wrong? Or understand that other people are only human too? No, I imagine it isn't."
"Mother, don't start. Please."
"Then just ring her."
Barbara bent down and pulled at a loose thread in her carpet. At close range, she could see the indentations she had worn pacing around her couch. "Bloody cheap carpet. Wouldn't happen at Belgravia."
She threw the phone she had been carrying around onto the seat. She would not ring him. She would not be the first one to apologise. Not this time. He had to learn that she had feelings too. Havers was not his personal punching bag, she was a woman with feelings. Deep feelings. Feelings she shouldn't have, but couldn't help. She sighed. Who was she kidding? She would make the first move. She always did.
She checked her phone. It was almost three o'clock. It was just over a five-hour drive to Howenstowe. If she packed and left just after three, even allowing for the crazy New Year's Eve traffic, she would be there by nine.
Tommy could not focus on his book. If asked, he would even know what it was about. He threw it on the couch beside him.
"If you left now, you'd be there by nine."
He looked up at his mother then sighed. "What if she won't see me? Or has gone out?"
"Does her flat have two entrances?"
"What? No, only one."
"Then sit there. She eventually has to go in, or out."
Tommy laughed. "You sound like Barbara."
"Tommy, I may have been a bad mother, but I still love you, and hate seeing you like this. Go to her. Tell her what's in your heart. If she refuses to accept that, at least you will know."
He stood. "Yes, you're right." He bent down and kissed his mother on her cheek. "Happy New Year, Mother."
"Happy New Year, Tommy, and ring me from Barbara's bed tomorrow."
He raised his eyebrows. "Umm..."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, you both need it. Badly."
Barbara cursed at the old man dawdling across the pedestrian crossing. It had taken her nearly an hour, and she was still not past Heathrow. She cut in front of a driver and ignored his horn, then zipped across two lanes and past the turnoff. The traffic instantly thinned. "Finally."
She knew where the police liked to hide and if necessary, she would pull out her warrant card and a story. She set her speed control to five miles over the limit and settled back into her seat.
Instead of taking his beloved Bristol, Tommy had taken the Land Rover. It was less conspicuous and less likely to attract unwanted police attention. In the wet weather, it was also far safer. As he adjusted the seat and pulled out of the gravel drive, he was happier than he had been for days. Determined not to let the year pass without resolving things with Havers, he steeled himself for the long drive.
Barbara was relieved to see Tommy's car in the driveway. She took three deep breaths, then three more for good measure before knocking on the door. It swung open and her heart fell. It was Dorothy.
"Barbara! Oh, dear."
She wanted to run, but Barbara was not sure where to run to. She started to back away. "Clearly I was wrong. I've made a mistake. I'm sorry to have interrupted you, Lady Asherton."
"No, wait. Tommy's not here. He's gone to London to find you."
Barbara turned at looked at his car. "But...?"
"He took mine. It was raining. I think he wanted... look come in, I'll ring him."
"No, I..."
"Yes. You came to him. He went to you. You two need to stop dancing around each other and meet in the middle."
Barbara looked at her watch then started to run to her car. "Yes, tell him that. What time did he leave?"
"Just after three."
"Tell him... Bath. On the road below Royal Crescent. We should be there by midnight."
Without waiting for an answer, she slid behind the wheel of her car. Gravel flew up and landed near Dorothy's feet as she gunned the engine and sped up the driveway.
When his phone rang, he hoped it was Barbara. It was the Howenstowe number.
"Yes."
"Tommy?"
"Who else would be on my phone? What's wrong, Mother?"
"Where are you?"
"Still approaching London. Near Gunnersby Park."
"Turn around and come back."
"It's late to change your mind, Mother. I need to see Barbara."
"She's here. Well, she was. She's just sped off and told me to call you. She'll meet you at Bath. On the road below Royal Crescent."
"Wait on." Tommy jammed on his brakes and indicator and forced his way onto the exit ramp. "Bath? You're sure it was Barbara?"
"I'm not blind Thomas Lynley, nor demented, although you two are driving me that way. Yes, it was Barbara Havers, your sergeant. Just meet her Tommy, and sort this out."
He drove slowly along the road looking for her car. There were very few vehicles and none of them was hers. She would wait, wouldn't she? She'd know he would come as fast as he could. He pulled in halfway along the road and waited. His watch said it was seven minutes until next year.
Barbara looked at the clock on her dashboard and swore. She had seven minutes. Her SatNav told her she needed eight minutes. Even though it was in a built-up area, she pushed her accelerator down. The light was just turning red, but she turned the corner, anyway. She was travelling far too fast. The car skidded. Her tyres squealed on the road and the two on the driver's side temporarily left the asphalt before her car bumped down and continued to oscillate up the road. People had festooned the iron bridge over the Avon with multi-coloured lights that blurred into a rainbow as she sped past. At the junction, she ignored the red light and after a quick check swung left.
Four minutes and her SatNav was uncertain she would make it. The annoying woman kept reminding her to slow down and preserve lives. "And what about my life?" she yelled at it.
Ahead, she could see the curved line of Georgian townhouses on Royal Crescent. "Wait, Tommy. I'm coming."
Tommy drummed the steering wheel with his fingers. His watch ticked over to 11:59. Barbara may well be on her way, but she would not make it before New Year. He closed his eyes and bumped his head back against his seat. All the way from London he had imagined her waiting for him with her arms open and a smile. Only now did he understand how much he craved that. He wanted to lose himself in her arms, her lips, her love.
A bright light shone directly in his face. He opened his eyes. A small white car skidded to a stop ten yards in front of him. Tommy opened his door and nearly fell as he rushed to get out. "Barbara!"
She leapt from the car and ran towards him leaving her door open and her engine running. "Tommy!"
As she crashed into his body, his arms came around her and held her close. "I'm sorry, Barbara, I was a total ar..."
"Me too," she said over him.
They paused and stared at each other. They did not need words. Not now. Not after a nine-hour dash to be together. In the distance, a deep voice projected through a warbling loudspeaker began to countdown to midnight. "Ten... nine... eight... seven..."
"I love you, Barbara."
"Five... four..."
"I love you too, Tommy."
"One! Happy New Year, Bath!"
Neither of them saw the fireworks light up the city. A second before midnight theirs lips crashed together. They would make their own fireworks for New Year.
Happy New Year everyone, may 2019 bring you everything that you wish for yourself.