Disclaimer: Not mine, no copyright intended

A/N: This story is a sequel to a previous fic I wrote "Mother's Day", not essential you read it as events are referenced ; but you might enjoy it anyway ;)

Achilles had one weakness, his heel. It was caused by his mother...

Reviews are always welcome!


For Helen Cutter, today was a special day. 23rd July, 2010. It was strange to think that eleven years ago she'd given birth to a baby son, but he would now actually be celebrating his 25th birthday. It had all been part of her plan, taking the baby back in time to be looked after by a loving family; timing it so that he would be the right age when Helen needed an accomplice. Lately, she'd found herself slowing down; her reactions weren't as sharp as they used to be and the injuries she had sustained along the way were taking their toll. She knew it was time to try and find her son.

She had travelled up to Bradford and was now standing outside the small guest house where she had left him. The place looked different, and she didn't recognise the names on the sign outside. It seemed Brian and Margaret were no longer here, but that didn't concern Helen too much. The new owners would probably know something of their whereabouts. With a flutter of nervousness in her stomach, she went inside.

"Can I help you?" the young man at the reception desk asked.

"I hope so," Helen said. "I'm trying to find Brian and Margaret; they used to own this place."

The man thought for moment. "My dad bought this place about five years ago now, I don't remember who from. My sister might know, hang on." He disappeared into what Helen assumed was an office behind the desk. A woman came out.

"You're looking for the previous owners of this place?" she said.

"Yes, Brian and Margaret. They were very helpful a few years ago, and my husband and I would like to invite them to our anniversary celebrations as a thank you." Helen said.

"Brian passed away in 2004 I believe," the girl said. "Margaret and their son sold up and moved down south somewhere. I think we have a forwarding address for them though." She began rummaging through some paperwork in a filing cabinet by the desk.

"Anything you can find would be helpful." Helen said. The mention of the son had her heart racing. "What's the son like?"

"I never met him, but I remember dad saying something about him being a typical student, long hair and weird clothes and all that!" she laughed. "He was going away to University, that's why they were selling up. Margaret couldn't run this place on her own."

Helen smiled. Her son had gone to University, so he must have some intelligence. As she waited for the girl to find the forwarding address, an older gentleman arrived. "Ah, dad! This lady is trying to track down the family we bought this place from."

"Yes, my husband and I are about to celebrate a special anniversary and we wanted to invite Brian and Margaret. They were so good to us when we first got married." Helen had rehearsed this story so many times she almost believed it herself.

"Margaret's address should be in that green folder at the back of the 3rd drawer." The man said to his daughter. "She seemed a lovely woman, felt sorry for her having to leave this place. The son seemed very suspicious of me, asking lots of questions. Reckon he was just looking out for his mum though, making sure she wasn't being ripped off."

"Exactly what sons should do for their mothers!" Helen exclaimed. "He was going off to University I understand?"

"Yeah, something to do with fossils or dinosaur bones or something like that." the man scratched his head. "He didn't look the type though; I had him down as a computer geek."

Helen felt her heart skip a beat – her son was a palaeontologist? This was getting better and better.

"Found it!" the girl said. She took a photocopy of the paperwork and handed the copy to Helen. "It's five years old though, she might have moved again."

"Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it." Helen said. She folded the paper and turned to leave. The family wished her good luck with her search and they said their goodbyes.

Outside, Helen unfolded the paper and scanned for the information she needed. When she found Margaret's name, her head began to fill with mixed emotions. She had only known Brian and Margaret by their first names, and it had never occurred to her to find out their surname. She couldn't be 100% certain, but everything added up. The actual search for her son was over; she knew exactly where to find him. Persuading him to join her was going to be considerably harder than she had anticipated though – his mind had already been brainwashed against her by her ex husband.

-o-

"Are you packed yet, Connor?" Abby called. She was getting annoyed with him; they were due to leave in less than six hours and he was still sorting out his suitcase.

"Nearly!" he shouted back.

"Well hurry up! I'll just go without you if you're not ready in time." She said. She slumped onto the sofa and checked the list she had written for Sarah and Becker. They were going to come and feed Abby's menagerie of pets whilst she and Connor finally took a long overdue holiday. Things had been pretty quiet recently, and Lester had agreed that they could all take holidays at some point as long as it wasn't all at the same time. Abby was looking forward to getting some sunshine and just being able to sit back and relax. Connor was too, although she couldn't imagine him actually sitting still for very long.

She then checked her bag to make sure she had all the documentation. She was secretly glad Connor had left the organisation to her; he would probably have lost everything by now. Insurance papers, tickets, hotel address, passport … ah, where was Connor's passport?

"Connor? I don't have your passport. Where is it?" she yelled.

"Bread bin." Connor yelled back. Abby rolled her eyes and sighed. For a supposedly intelligent guy, he didn't have a clue about ordinary things sometimes. She found his passport and was about to put it into her bag with the rest of the documents when a thought hit her. Knowing Connor, it was probably out of date or something. She flicked to the back page, surprisingly it was still valid. She smiled at the photo; it must have been taken around the time she first met him. Then she spotted something odd; his date of birth.

Making her way up the stairs to his room, she looked again. Perhaps she'd got it wrong. "Conn, I thought it was your birthday on Saturday?" she said.

"It is." He replied. "That's partly why we're going away now isn't it?"

"Well, according to your passport, it was your birthday yesterday." She showed him the page, pointing to his date of birth. "23rd July, 1985."

"Ah, that's the date I was actually born, but we always celebrate my birthday on the date I was found." Connor said.

Abby stifled a giggle. "Connor, has no-one told you that babies aren't actually found under the gooseberry bush?"

"Funny." He said, poking his tongue out at her. "Actually, I was found on the doorstep of the guest house my parents owned. My real mother abandoned me there."

"Oh, god, Connor! I'm sorry, I didn't know that." She felt bad for teasing him now. He was on his knees, pulling something out from under his bed. It was a box. He passed it to Abby. "What's this?"

"My story." He said, smiling. "It's all in there. My social worker helped me put it all together when I was a kid. They wanted me to understand my history, and that's it." He carried on folding clothes into his suitcase.

Abby opened the box. Inside were the usual items parents kept from their babies; a pair of bootees, a few photos, a lock of hair… and at the bottom, a scrapbook. Abby lifted it out. On the front cover, written in childish handwriting, it said "All about me, by Connor Temple" She felt something tug at her heart as she ran her fingers across the cover. The letter p in Temple was written back to front, and it made her wonder what Connor had been like as a child. The contents of the book had her blinking away tears. It was mostly newspaper clippings, reports of an unknown baby that had been found on the doorstep of Brian and Margaret Temple. They spanned a couple of weeks; appeals for the real mother to come forward and reports that the baby boy was "in good health and being cared for by the couple that had found him." There was a note too, which Abby assumed must have been left by the mother. It seemed to imply that perhaps the mother knew the couple in some way.

"They never found my real mum, and after a year they let the Temples adopt me properly. My real name was Charlie, but they wanted to call me Connor. A couple of women came forward trying to claim me, but they were dismissed pretty much straight away. They didn't pass the test you see." Connor said.

"Test?" Abby said.

"Yeah. The police with-held one piece of information from the press reports." He placed his hand on the ring he always wore around his neck. "This was in the basket with me, it was hers. Neither of the women that came forward knew about it, that's how the police knew they weren't my mother."

Abby couldn't believe she'd never asked him about that ring, despite often wondering what its significance was. She'd figured as he never mentioned it, he didn't want to talk about it. She looked at the photo of the baby in the newspaper reports; Connor had been a very sweet looking child. How could anyone abandon him? The mother must have been so desperate to do that. "Did you ever think about trying to find her?" Abby asked softly.

"A couple of times, but only to ask why she didn't want me. After a while, it didn't matter; she did me a favour really. I couldn't have asked for a happier childhood." He grinned at Abby, and then sighed. "I think I've finished packing!" he declared, slamming the case shut with a flourish.

"Hurrah!" Abby laughed. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Come on, let's get something to eat. The taxi will be here before we know it."

-o-

A black taxi cab pulled up in the street just outside Abby and Connor's flat. The driver beeped the horn and leaned out of the window to check that her passengers were on the way. Moments later, the two of them appeared, dragging suitcases behind them and wearing almost identical smiles. "Going somewhere nice then?" she said, helping Abby lift her case into the boot.

"Tenerife." Abby said.

"Nice." The driver said. "Don't remember the last time I went on holiday. You're lucky." She watched Connor load his case into the boot beside Abby's then opened the passenger doors for them to get in. "Heathrow isn't it?"

"Yes, terminal 3" Connor said, fastening his seatbelt. He glanced at Abby, not quite believing this was finally happening. Maybe, without all the pressures and stress of work, he could get Abby to open up a bit to him. They were long overdue a proper chat, and there were so many things they didn't know about each other. Today had been the first time either had mentioned the life they had before they met.

The taxi sped through the streets, and Connor felt his stomach flutter with excitement. He reached for Abby's hand, and she squeezed his back. This was going to be a great week; he could feel it. They chatted excitedly about what they would do when they got there, and the stresses of their job began to ebb away.

About twenty minutes into the journey, Abby got concerned. "Shouldn't we have taken that turning back there?" Abby said to the driver. Connor looked behind him; Abby was right, the turning for Heathrow was disappearing into the distance.

"Its OK, I know a different route. That road always gets busy and we'll be sitting in a queue for ages. This way is quicker." The driver said. Abby leaned back and tried to relax, but something didn't feel right. Another ten minutes passed, and they didn't seem to be getting anywhere near the airport; in fact, they seemed to be heading out into the countryside.

"Are you sure you're going the right way?" Connor said. "I don't want to make a fuss or anything, but we have to be checked in by 4.30." he glanced at his watch.

The driver didn't reply. She shifted nervously in her seat and then put her foot on the accelerator. The taxi overtook several vehicles and was very quickly out onto a clear road.

"I don't like this, Connor." Abby said. She reached into her bag for her mobile.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." The driver said. Abby looked up and came face to face with a gun. She sat back in her seat and looked at Connor, the fear on his face mirroring hers. The taxi continued to speed along the road, turning down a side road and into what seemed to be the entrance to a farm. They parked up, and the driver ordered Abby to get out. Abby did as she was told, Connor following her.

"You - get back into the taxi!" the driver yelled at Connor. "Do as I say or your girlfriend gets it!" The gun was pointing straight at Abby's head. Connor backed onto the back seats.

"What is this about?" he said. "Maybe we can talk about it?"

The driver laughed, and began to fiddle with the pendant around her neck. She looked strange, and Connor stared in disbelief. The driver's face was changing in front of their eyes, and it was becoming a face they recognised only too well.

"Helen Cutter! What the hell are you doing?" Abby said, suddenly finding enough confidence to move away from the gun.

"I'm sorry to ruin your holiday plans, but I need to speak with young Connor here." Helen said.

"I have nothing to say to you!" Connor spat, getting out of the taxi again and moving towards Abby. Helen grabbed Abby around the neck, holding the gun to her head.

"I told you to get in the taxi, Connor. If you want Abby to live, you'll do it." Helen said firmly. Connor slumped back inside, looking anxiously at Abby.

Abby's heart was in her mouth. She knew Helen would shoot her without even a second thought, and prayed Connor wouldn't try something stupid. Once Connor was inside, Helen closed the door and made her way back round towards the driver's seat; dragging the now petrified Abby with her. As Helen got inside, she pulled something else out of her pocket and held it against Abby's arm. It sent an electric shock through Abby, and she fell to the ground.

"Abby!" Connor yelled, pushing at the car door trying to get out. Helen had activated the central locking, and he couldn't open the door. "What have you done to her?"

Helen started the taxi up and sped off, leaving an unconscious Abby on the ground behind them.