Her glass was so full that it threatened to spill over the edges as she sat down on the sofa after another long day at UCOS, the TV soon came into life and onto the news. Sandra Pullman half-heartedly listened as she checked the text from Gerry that had just caused her phone to buzz, she placed her wine glass on to a coaster and began to reply to her friend until she heard the story that the news was reporting. One name stood out like a beacon amongst all the other words that were being said, it seemed to be a lot louder than everything else that the reporter was saying, without her even noticing her phone was now on the table in a puddle of wine, with glass now shattered across her cream carpet.

She couldn't bring herself to look at the screen but at the same time she couldn't turn it off. She needed to see she wasn't imagining it. She had learnt to live with the nightmares of this situation arising but never in all her living days did she think her demons would be returning to haunt her.

She threw up violently, into the fireplace so that there wouldn't be any more mess to the carpet. She hadn't reacted to news in that manner in a long time. She didn't know what to do. There was no one she could turn to. She had no real friends outside of work, not the ones that wouldn't judge her. She couldn't tell Gerry, she couldn't have him going through this ordeal either and there was no way she was going to talk to her mother about it, it was too late for that.

She took out her police badge from her pocket and opened it up, the picture of her father in his uniform looking proud made her heart break but it was the crumpled image behind it which tore her apart. The picture had been taken at one of the first places that she'd been stationed with the police, she looked a lot younger with blonde hair that was natural and not dyed to cover the greys that kept coming through, the smile across her face was real, the sparkle obvious in the depths of her blue eyes. It was sight of the little boy in her arms that not just broke her heart, but completely shattered it. The toothy smile of the little boy looking back at her made her smile slightly, his pleasure at having a police hat on his head obvious. A tear landed upon the crumped image, a physical sign of the pain tearing at her insides.

It took all the energy that she could muster to bring herself to look back at the TV screen, only to notice that the report that had made her numb inside all over again had finished and the smiling reporter on her screen was now talking about a mother giving birth to quadruplets on a tube. Her hand reached out for the TV remote and instantly she found herself rewinding until it was at the beginning of the report that she was bothered about. This time she needed to know what was being said instead of turning into a mess. The smile on the reporter's face bothered her more than it should have as she read the information out from a sheet of paper in front of her, before the image switched to the outside of a prison.

The correspondent outside the high security prison gave the report in the recommended mundane fashion, explaining how a woman named Cerys Williams, who had been arrested for killing several children along with her husband Bryce, fifteen years ago. He then went on to say that Mrs Williams was fighting for her life in hospital after being attacked in prison. A spokesperson from Holloway prison had confirmed that for Cerys's safety they were looking into the possibility of allowing her to be compassionately put under house arrest as this was the seventh time in five years she had been violently attacked. He concluded by saying that Williams was current is a 'critical but stable condition' at Charing Cross Hospital.

She turned off the television and took out her packet of 'emergency' cigarettes, something she hadn't needed to touch since joining UCOS before snatching her car keys from the coffee table. She needed to get out her home, she needed to get away, out of London and get herself together. Something nigh on impossible when she was at the heart of the situation. She sat in her car, unable to pull herself together enough to drive anywhere in her current state and the cigarette that was getting smaller and smaller, seemed to be doing little to calm her. She needed to get away but anywhere she could think to go was tainted with memories, she wanted somewhere that was neutral and yet in the state she was in her brain didn't seem to be wanting to play ball. If it had been anything else then the obvious answer to her dilemma would have been to go to Gerry, the only person she knew who'd be there for her no matter what she needed and not judge her but she couldn't lump this situation on to him. Jack was far too close to the situation to be helpful and Brian was Brian, the font of all useless information but less then helpful in a bad situation.

The street lights became a blur among with the stars as she looked up, her eyes still brimming with tears. Her phone began to make a noise from its position on the passenger's seat, the fact that it hadn't been ruined by the wine was one less thing to worry about and yet she couldn't care less. It was going to be someone who would take pity on her or warn her of the news, neither of which she needed right now. Sandra briefly wondered whether she should go to the cemetery and yet somehow it seemed like a bad decision, instead of leaving London she found herself driving through the city centre on a road towards the hospital, towards the woman who had killed the most precious thing in her life but also towards the place where her son had begun his life.

She knew as a civilian she wouldn't get anywhere and as cop who looked like the way she did she wouldn't get anywhere and of course there would be serious repercussions if she was caught.

Still it didn't matter, just like her son's short life hadn't mattered to that bitch and her husband. She parked a little away from the hospital on the only side street in London which didn't charge for parking and she gingerly made her way toward the direction of the hospital.

She felt her knees buckle as she reached the bustling entrance, placing her hand on the handrail leading up to the door, she pulled herself up. A light went on inside Sandra's head she became her Superintendent alter ego and that was enough for her to walk inside confidently.

She had been in enough hospitals to know where abouts a killer would be kept, she would be guarded by several officers and Sandra would have to be seriously composed to blag her way through this. Gazing at the sign directing visitors to the appropriate department she turned on auto pilot and started walking.

She was abruptly stopped in her tracks as she heard crying of a new born baby. Evoking so many memories she allowed the hot tears to stream down her face. Closing her eyes she sighed as she pictured her new born baby, only hours old gazing up at her, with the most beautiful blue eyes in the world. He was enough to keep her going past the maternity ward but passing the paediatric unit proved to be even more difficult. A young boy was walking into the play area, just inside the entrance to the paediatric ward, his fair hair coupled with his blue eyes was enough to freeze her to the spot. He couldn't have been more than 5, just months older than Sandra's son had been when he was snatched from the park whilst Sandra had had her head turned and later found dead. She watched him play for a few moments, she missed watching her own son play, she was brought back from her own little world as the little boy burst into tears without warning. Sandra felt more tears rush down her cheeks as she thought of all the things that she'd never got to experience with her own child. Never would she proudly drop her son off at school for his first day, never would she comfort him through his first heartbreak or the stress of exams. Never would she get to experience anything with her son and that was all down to one woman and her husband.

"Are you alright?" A young nurse asked, as she left the paediatric unit only to come face to face with a middle aged woman who was crying.

"Yeah, you know what these places are like." She replied calmly as she wiped the tears away from her face and walked onwards to the only place that was going to provide any release. She stood at the double doors of the ward that she knew currently housed the person she hated most in the world and pulled her warrant card out to take one last look at the picture of her son to remind herself why she was doing this.

"Detective Superintendent Pullman, UCOS" she managed to say coolly, flashing her ID badge. "DAC Strickland had it cleared for me to come and ask Mrs Williams some questions regarding a case we are investigating."

The man on guard outside the doors nodded before he spoke, "Just wait here ma'am; I'll get Johnny to go in with you." His accent was of the northern variety, he seemed friendly enough, despite the sinister expression painted on his face.

"It's okay I won't be long, it is sensitive stuff that I need to ask her, I don't think she will be willing to surrender her secrets if another person is present." She explained, trying to keep it together.

"Right you are ma'am, no need to breath a word to our superiors, is there. But don't take too long will you?"

"I'll be quick and please don't call me ma'am."

Pushing her body through the double doors this was it, she had dreamt of this moment for years. Those nights she should have been sleeping she had imagined how she would play this out but now she now she wasn't sure she had the bottle.

The woman lying in the bed looked like she had been savaged by a pack of dogs, her thinning red hair had been pulled out in clumps, her face was red raw, with scars running in each direction. How Sandra longed to add to the collection.

"Oh hello, have I got some company, about bloody time" the woman rasped, she was wired up to so many tubes it was hard to tell if her eyes were open.

"You don't know who I am do you?" She spat nearing closer, letting her inhibitions take over.

"No sorry love, I have met a lot of people in my time, you will have to refresh my memory" she said forcing a meaningless smile.

"I am one of the women who had to bury their child because of you" he words at first were calm but rapidly they became louder and more shaky. "I hate you so much it hurts, you make me sick!"

Before the woman had chance to reply she gasped and the machines she was hooked to began to scream out electronic distress sounds. All Sandra could do was watch as the doctors and nurses burst in to try and help her. Why bother, Sandra thought as she was escorted out of the room. Half of her hoped that woman that she'd just met would die, that way she wouldn't ever have an evening like she'd had tonight and why should her baby die but not the woman who had caused his death but then the other half of her thought that death was too easy, that she deserved to suffer a hell of a lot more.

"Sandra?" Came the Cockney voice that she instantly recognised. "I know what you're doing and it won't help." He whispered to her as he got closer.

"Says who? Why did my little Charlie deserve to die? Why should I not get the chance to vent all my anger at her? Why should she not feel a little bit of what I do?" Sandra shouted as Gerry moved her towards a chair not far away from the ward that Cerys was on.

"He didn't deserve to die Sandra, not at all but you shouldn't waste your time or breath on that woman in there, she's not going to make your time easy and putting yourself in that position isn't going to help you. She's not going to admit killing your little boy Sandra, she hasn't admitted anything up to this point and she's 15 years into her sentence." Came Gerry's unusual voice of wisdom in a tone that she'd so often heard him talk to his daughters in. Since she'd met him she'd always envied his big family whilst she was on her own and still mourning the death of her perfect little angel.

"How did you know?" She asked simply as she saw more doctors rush into the room where the serial child killer lay.

"What, what she'd done to your son or where you'd be?" He asked, pulling her a little closer to shield her from what was going on around them, to try and bring a little bit of warmth to her freezing skin.

"Both" she muttered through the stifled tears.

"Come here you. Let's get you home." He said taking her by the elbow and leading her out of the building.

"I can't go back there and you haven't answered my question."

"There is time for that; c'mon we will get you a nice cup of Rosie back at mine."

They got into Gerry's car and he drove in silence, which Sandra found comforting, it gave her time to reflect.

"Jenifer Soams" Gerry suddenly said aloud.

"Who?"

"DCI Soams, she was working on the Williams case, she and I we were close-"

"You mean you were shagging her?"

Gerry grinned as his complexion went as red as Sandra's nail polish. "Yeah, I suppose I do, she works over in the midlands now, she's doing really well for herself. She asked me to make sure you were okay" he explained, keeping his eye on the road, in a bid to avoid contact.

"I didn't ask her to tell me but she was worried about you, she said she took a shine to you when she came to visit you- said if she could ever be half the copper you are she would have been a success."

Sandra smiled. "I remember her now, she is a damn sight better than me, and I doubt she would have made a scene like I just did."

"Any parent would have done the same and don't you forget it, I know I would have throttled the bitch. "

"You won't tell Brian will you, you know what he is like with dealing with this kind of stuff" she sniffled.

"Sandra, my lips are sealed. I'll get my spare room made up, you can't be alone, not tonight."

"Thank you Gerry, not just for staying with me but for making sure I didn't do anything stupid back at the hospital." She whispered trying to hold back the tears that were still threatening to fall and were likely to if she spoke properly.

"Tell me about him." Gerry spoke suddenly as he passed Sandra a steaming mug of hot chocolate, mindful that on a night like she'd had that she'd be remembering the murder, not how her little boy was.

"His dad wasn't around but I preferred it that way, according to everyone around he was the spitting image of me. He used to love playing, toy trains were his favourite, he hated being stuck inside he loved the outdoors, especially the park. I used to take him into the police station a lot, when I had paperwork to catch up on. Charlie was very popular up there; he used to wear police hats around in the office. He was spoilt there always being showered with cookies and sweets. He was fussy, didn't like many foods but refused to try most things I cooked him." She spoke, smiling to herself at the memories of her young son. "He'd have been 19 now, at university probably."

"I bet he'd have been a real heartbreaker, especially if he had your looks." Gerry spoke, trying to keep the mood as light as he could, to keep Sandra's mind off what was going on in the hospital and what was going on in the depths of her mind.

"Sometimes I wonder what he'd look like now or what he'd be up to." She told him before reaching into her handbag to find the picture to show her best friend.

"He's got his mum's good looks all right" he smiled as he handed the picture of the smiling little boy back to its owner.

They didn't say much after that, there was so much Gerry wanted ask his boss about her secret son but he knew that she wasn't up to talking thoroughly, not tonight.

"The spare room's ready when you are" he said, taking the empty ceramic mug from her grip.

"Thanks, I'll be there in a bit, don't let me keep you from your beauty sleep, it's getting late and I know how much you need sleep at your age" she joked weakly.

Gerry laughed before replying: "You sure?" She nodded, her eyes were closed and she was resting the palm of her hand on her cheek. This was the most peaceful she had looked all day.

The next morning was Saturday, fortunately. Gerry awoke relatively early and silently made his way to the kitchen. As he did he peered into the living room to find Sandra still fast asleep in the arm chair. He sighed, tiptoeing his way in. She looked cold and weary in the morning light so grabbed the first thing he could find, her favourite red coat and wrapped it around her. His eyes clouded over as his gaze focused on the tiny picture she clutched. He felt sick just imagining what she had been going through all this time.

Sandra stirred as she heard the familiar sound of a kettle boiling. "Morning" she said as she reached the kitchen. "Is there one going for me?"

"You should still be in bed, I bet you hardly slept on that thing" replied Gerry, stirring milk in the coffee before handing it to her.

"I was fine, thank you."

"Don't mention it, cheers."

"Did she die?" Sandra asked, her voice breaking slightly but a lot stronger than it had been the previous evening.

"Nope, she's in a critical condition though."

"I've been thinking, today is the last day I ever bother about her, why should I give her two thoughts, she clearly didn't give me any when she took my pride and joy away from me? Getting all worked up over her isn't going to bring Charlie back, I'm not letting her have that hold over me anymore." She spoke, her face the picture of strength. She'd said some of what she'd needed to say to Cerys and fair enough she had not had a response but it was better than getting one that she didn't want to hear. For now, she'd said all she needed to say and it was a slight weight off of her shoulders.