I'm not the man they think I am at home. Oh no no no I'm a rocket man. (Rocket Man, Elton John)

"The first ever passenger steam train ran from here. I mean the first ever in the whole world, that is amazing." Paddy stood back to admire the ornate plaque on the platform wall.

"Bet it wasnae on time either," came the curt reply.

"The first fully operated steam railway, of course, ran from Liverpool."

"Of course. Paddy, I dinae like this mocha. It's a wee bit living up tae it's name, yer ken? mock'a' coffee, like not real coffee."

"Have mine then, Berns," the Merseysider offered her his disposable cup.

"What is it?" she screwed up her nose.

"Flat white."

"Why doesnae that surprise me?" She sniffed and refrained from taking his gift.

Paddy continued reading the historical plaques, "Robert Stephenson, you know the Geordie who built the Rocket, Bernie."

"Aye Paddy, I went to school," Bernie responded and then more quietly, "more recently than yer'sel."

"We saw it with Tim in Newcastle last summer."

"Oh yes. How could I forget," the dull acknowledgement came.

Unaffected, Paddy continued with his history lesson, "He built the first passenger steam locomotive called Locomotion Number One."

"Well bugger me, he must have been up all night thinking of that name."

"This is history Bernie, our history."

"Well we will be bleeding history Paddy, if this blummin' Kings Cross train does not get in soon and you don't stop reading those plaques out loud."

Paddy moved reluctantly across the cold station platform, on a beautiful Spring day, towards frosty Bernie sat on the freezing black wrought iron seat. He balanced his rejected scalding coffee on the top of the bench. Bernie felt she may have come across a wee bit grumpy and handed Paddy her unwanted coffee and took his in return.

"I never knew you liked mocha."

"I don't that's why I am giving it to you," she winked mischievously, "I just had a craving for something chocolatey."

Paddy smiled knowingly and shook his head sniffing his new beverage suspiciously. Bernie took a tiny sip of her new drink,

"Did you put sugar in this?" Paddy just sighed and started to wander back to the wall. Bernie feeling she may be appearing somewhat ungrateful tried to make conversation.

"Is it a big station at Liverpool, bigger than this?"

"Nine Platforms."

"How many cafes?"

"Sorry?"

"Well this has two. Kings Cross has about half-a-dozen, so how many has Lime Street?"

"I have no idea Bernie."

"Oh, but fairly big, you would say, four, maybe five?"

"Perhaps. It does have nine platforms though, so if you were using a more traditional method for gauging the size of a railway station, I would say it's a fair size."

"Nice."

Paddy looked at Bernie, "Just go to one of the two cafe's at this station and get one, you will feel better."

"I am fine," the Scot snapped.

"No you're not. Go and get one." Paddy put his hand in his trouser pocket searching for change.

"No! You know I can't, stop putting temptation in my way."

"Only I will know, I won't tell." he whispered in her ear.

"I will know and He will know. It's only two more days, I can manage, " she pleaded, not sure whether with him or with herself.

"Thank God for that," Paddy proclaimed.

"Yer didnae need to come today, yer know," Bernie muttered angrily.

Paddy plonked himself down on the attractive but uninviting seat next to Bernie. He took a deep breath and admitted he knew that. He decided to confess his true motives for accompanying her.

"I wondered if after Trixie's train comes in, we could go get a drink, maybe a bite to eat," he asked tentatively.

Bernie wrinkled her brow and turned to look at him, "You live in a pub, why would you want to do that?"

"Well, it's actually business, not pleasure," Paddy explained. "Buckles Brewery supplies a pub in town and I think they are undercutting me."

"Paddy, it's a town boozer, pricing is always different compared to rural trade. Where is this place?"

"I am talking about the Station Hotel," revealed Paddy.

"Where's that?"

Paddy let a wide grin tease his lips, "The Station, Berns."

"Yep, where is it?"

"Not far." Paddy chuckled into his cooling mocha. "So do you mind?"

"Well I am not sure it's what Trixie will be expecting after a three-and-a-half hour journey. I think she would rather just get back to Poplar and have a cuppa, and a fag knowing Trixie."

Paddy was quiet for a while, as Bernie craned to read the arrival board for the umpteenth time.

"Are you worried about something, Paddy." Bernie was unable to tolerate stewing Paddy any longer.

"It's just I heard the Station was more competitive than the Crown, but I also heard it's in trouble." Paddy turned to look at Bernie properly, "Three rival pubs have closed in the last year, Bernie."

"Rival!" Bernie screamed in mock indignation disturbing a woman close by, trying to balance a large suitcase decorated with South American animals of some description. The dramatist grabbed Paddy's knee, "The Crown does not have any rivals. We are beyond compare!"

Paddy couldn't help relax and started to chuckle at Bernie's theatricals, "Sweetheart, no business is secure in this current climate."

"Oh my giddy aunt, if you are going to start on about Brexshit again, I am getting straight on that train Trixie gets off and staying on until Waverley. You can preach to Trixie. She will be thrilled."

Paddy took a deep breath, "Bernie this is serious, this is our future I am worried about."

Bernie bit her lip and looked down at her hand still resting on Paddy's leg. Paddy noticed the change in his companion's demeanor and continued, "Tim's future in particular."

On more stable ground, Bernie added, "I don't think Tim wants to go into the pub trade." She spoke quietly, she didn't want to hurt Paddy's feelings, but knew that the boy's dad was just as aware of this as she was. Tim intended to leave Tweavenside and was currently looking at universities all over the UK. "Last I heard he was looking at veterinary science with a musical history degree on the side."

Paddy smirked and then laughed at Bernie's joke, not entirely sure if it was one. He grabbed her hand.

"The Crown is still Tim's future even if he never sets foot in the place again. It's what will pay for his gap year, off to study alpacas and bears wearing duffle coats in darkest Peru. The Crown will provide his beer money to squander in some lesser establishment than the one he grew up in. And more than likely it will pay for him to piss in a bottle at whatever festivals he decides to attend."

Bernie was giggling so hard now, the over luggaged lady was staring, "But the Crown is sound as a pound." She regained her composure. "We really don't have any rivals like the town boozers, we are the only pub in the villages, for miles. The Teacups is in a right state, last I heard. Ursula was made bar manager, can you believe that?"

Paddy shook his head, "She couldn't run a.. well she obviously can't."

Bernie giggled nodding and continued, "Town pubs don't inspire loyalty, kids just move from hole to hole, looking for the cheapest drinks and loudest tunes. You know all this."

She gripped his hand harder. "Our regulars are loyal and the covers are up, Vi's parmos are legendary. Talk to Fred about the beer, he isn't just your supplier, he is your friend."

Paddy enclosed Bernie's hand between both of his, "Our regulars?"

His emphasis on the word our made Bernie blush the rose pink that Paddy thought made her look adorable. She added "Well we do have the best barmaid in Tweavenside, probably the world."

They both added at once, "Valerie Dyer."

xxxxxxxxxxx

"So where do you hide the three bears?" Trixie asked staring wide eyed around Bernie's new home.

Bernie laughed in spite of herself, "Well one is hiding under the bed because it's too soft," she said joining in, "and the other two buggered off because porridge is banned in this house."

Trixie giggled, "Oh Bernie, it's idyllic, you must be so happy here. You even have a little patio out the back." Trixie looked out of the window at her friends tiny back garden with the crazy pavement, colourful flower pots and the painted white iron table with two chairs.

Bernie blushed. "Well it's only wee, but I like it," she replied humbly.

"I love it, if I need to relocate to Poplar for Mount Busby inc., we would have so much fun living here, together."

Bernie's mouth fell open, she regained her composure, "The second bedroom is very small Trixie, you wouldn't fit your shoe collection in there, never mind anything else. You would be much better off at the farm."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at her friend and took her baccy tin out of her handbag, but was interrupted by the lady of the house, "Smoking outside please."

Trixie tutted and shoved the offending tin back in her bag, "I will just have a biscuit, you always have nice biscuits."

Bernie shook her head, "Not a the moment." Trixie looked blank.

"It's Lent, Trixie. I always give up biscuits for Lent, you know that."

"Oh that's why you're so grumpy," Trixie teased her friend.

Bernie decided to ignore her and asked, "So what have you given up this year? I see it's not the fags."

Trixie thought for a moment and then announced, "The Mission."

Bernie shook her head and placed a milk bottle on her small oak dining table. The mention of cigarettes had Trixie looking longingly towards the stable-style back door. Her attention turned back to her host,

"I hope you make Paddy sit outside with those filthy smelling vape pens?"

"I do," assured Bernie.

"Even first thing in the morning?"

"Trixie, you are as subtle as a brick, don't give up the job with CID." Bernie sighed and poured the tea into the awaiting mugs.

As a housewarming gift, Violet had bought her a pretty floral teapot and Lady Antonia had knit a bright red tea cosy for it, so she was determined to use them. Even, as Trixie had commented, it was all a bit of a faff-on.

"Talking of CID, how are the newly weds?"

"Well Inspector Noakes is extremely busy, but she still finds time to pop in the Crown and come to church when she can."

"Splendid," added Trixie.

Bernie continued, "Peter seems to be enjoying his new career in security. I don't really know what it's all about, but him and Paddy talk about it for hours."

"Riveting I imagine," Trixie took a sip of her tea.

Bernie nodded and pulled a face, "He looked very smart the other day, he was driving some flash motor for some local dignitary or celeb."

"Do you have celebrities up here?" Trixie interrupted putting down her Fancy A Brew mug.

Bernie frowned, "That lad that won, Xtra Voice on Ice, on the telly last year, you know him, he was unforgettable. What was his name?" Bernie's forehead frowned in thought, "Anyway, he lives in Appleby Thornton, he comes in the Crown, Paddy hasn't a clue, but Val makes her presence felt."

Trixie laughed louder than expected and Bernie picking up her Don't Mind If I Do mug joined in, "Then there are the footballers, they spend quite a bit of money round here."

Trixie's eyes lit up, "They are not Premier League though are they?"

"They were and will be again. We haven't all got money to throw at prima donnas and divas like some teams I could mention. No room for soft lads up here."

Bernie was shocked at her own strong and indignant response, she didn't even follow football. She had no idea what the difference was between a good challenge or a dirty foul. It seemed as far as Jack and Tim were concerned, it depended completely on whose side you were on. She couldn't understand why she felt personally attacked by Trixie's insinuations towards her home side.

Trixie also surprised at Bernie's passionate response, moved the conversation on, "So is Peter, Poplar's answer to the The Bodyguard? Richard Madden eat your heart out." Trixie giggled wickedly.

Bernie tried hard not to, but giggled back, "Well maybe in Chummy's eyes, we don't have those kind of conversations, Trixie."

"Why does that not surprise me?" groaned Trixie, "Did you ever return those handcuffs?" she winked as she held up her mug.

"We both know those were official police equipment and before you ask, I am sure Peter returned his on leaving the force too."

Trixie smiled into her tea, she was very much looking forward to being in Poplar-on-Tweaven over Easter