Chapter 2: "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Tony invited Jazz inside, holding the door open for her as she slipped through into the living room of his house. A grateful smile crept across her face as she looked around, a kind of serenity passing through her body at the thought of being somewhere familiar with someone who seemed to care. "It's a little messy," Tony explained hurriedly as he kicked an empty pizza box underneath the couch. "I'm on my own at the moment, so…"

"It's fine," Jazz interrupted as she wandered off to the mantelpiece to survey the long line of photographs sitting on it. She didn't recognise most of them. They were largely pictures of Tony's two sons - a couple of Lucas graduating from high school, a wedding picture featuring Jack, an image of Jack with a baby, a photo of Lucas with a book that he'd clearly written…it seemed to be almost endless. "It's perfect."

He headed into the kitchen, busying himself with a coffee jar. "Leah said you hadn't eaten," he explained, calling out to her in a loud voice. "Do you want some coffee? Maybe some toast or something…" He paused mid-sentence, suddenly realising that Jazz wasn't listening. He returned to the living room, finding her sitting back in the couch as she contemplated her stomach. "Is something wrong?"

"What's Drew doing now?" she asked him, appealing to Tony with her shining emerald eyes. "I've spent every sleepless night of the last five years wondering what he's doing with himself…he didn't have the apprenticeship or the inheritance…"

Tony joined her slowly, reaching out to rub her knee soothingly. "He owns half of Noah's Bar these days," he explained, sighing thoughtfully. "Alf Stewart died a few years ago, so Drew owns half of it while Martha McKenzie owns the other half. He's doing well with it too. Maybe not making as much as Belle with her photography job at the paper, but he's happy."

She nodded, adjusting her position against the couch cushions so that she was sitting cross-legged. "And what about your boys?" she asked quietly. "How are Jack and Lucas going?"

He chuckled lightly for a moment before replying. "Jack married Sam a little while ago. He's got a teenage stepson and a three-year-old boy of his own. They named him Lucas, after his uncle."

"Cute," Jazz observed weakly, returning Tony's smile. The mention of Lucas' name seemed to make Tony downtrodden, almost to the point of tears. "What about Lucas? He was writing that book, wasn't he? About the girl killed in that drag race…"

"He did," Tony answered, lacing his fingers behind his head as he leant back to contemplate the ceiling. "He won a few awards for it too. It was critically acclaimed at one point. He died about a year after it was published, a couple of months before Jack's son was born. Car crash. Ironic, don't you think?"

Her face fell quickly as she reached out to rub his shoulder reassuringly. "Oh, Tony…" she whispered, shaking her head dismally. "I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be," he told her, laughing bleakly. "It's not your fault. Anyway, I've been an empty-nester since. Matilda left ages ago; she's over in Perth at uni. She wanted to come back after Lucas died, but I told her not to. He wouldn't have wanted her throwing away her career to come running back to keep me company." He sighed, deciding that it would be best to change the subject. "What about you, eh?" he asked, letting a small smile spread across his face. "The baby's got to be due soon."

"Yeah," Jazz replied, placing a hand on her stomach as a kind of downtrodden hope found its way into her face. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I used the last of my money to pay for the taxi fare down here and to pay for your coffee."

Tony suddenly found himself feeling incredibly guilty for letting her pay. He blushed slightly as he rose to his feet. "You're more than welcome to stay here, if you'd like," he offered with a smile. "I mean, I've got that many spare rooms…"

"I can't impose," Jazz told him, wincing as she rose to her feet. "I mean, Drew still hates me. Not that I could blame him. You don't deserve to have to worry about me."

"No," Tony pointed out, grabbing Jazz's shoulders and steering her off to Matilda's old bedroom. "I insist. I can't have you sleeping in a caravan, can I now?"

She smiled gratefully in response as she entered Matilda's old room, looking around her. It looked fairly nice, with creamy white walls and soft grey carpet. The bed looked particularly inviting. She spun back to face Tony, offering him a gentle smile. "Look, forget the coffee and toast. I might just have a lie down, if that's alright with you."

Tony nodded, squeezing her hand kindly. "Of course it is," he replied with a smile. "You relax; I'll just be out in the living room if you need me."

Jazz eased herself back onto the bed, lying on her back as she ran a thoughtful hand over her stomach. She offered Tony one more smile of gratitude before he left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

Martha's head snapped up from where she was checking the money in the till as Drew entered, each footstep heavier than the one before. She rose an eyebrow as she leant back against the side of the bar, regarding him in curiosity. "Laura keeping you up again, was she?" she asked with a chuckle which hid a little bit of regret. Despite her blossoming relationship with Michael, she still felt the pain over the child she had terminated years before. At the lack of reply from Drew, she decided to probe again. "Or has Belle got another big newspaper assignment that she's stressing about?"

"It's not Laura and it's not Belle," Drew finally grumbled, dropping his bag to the floor behind the bar. "My bloody mother's back in town."

"What, Jazz?" Martha queried as she pushed the till closed with a loud ping. "I thought you'd both agreed to live separate lives as long as you sent her the inheritance…"

He sighed, folding his arms across his chest impatiently. "Yeah, well so did I. But Belle and I ran into her at the diner this morning, heavily pregnant after leaving yet another husband AND she was chatting to Tony."

Martha rolled her eyes, feeling a little frustrated. Drew was a pretty good business partner for the most part, except for whenever his mother was mentioned. She didn't blame him for feeling betrayed about the inheritance debacle, but his anger was honestly beginning to feel quite unwarranted. "She may not be necessarily up to her old tricks, you know," she reminded him calmly. "She might have a good reason for leaving her husband. Not everyone who gets a divorce is doing it because they're trying to be vindictive."

Drew paused, meeting Martha's gaze for the first time. He could tell that she was really not in the mood for this now. "I'll go get set up for the pool tournament today, then shall I?" she asked, earning a curt nod from Martha.

"Yeah, that might be best," she replied. She shook her head despairingly as she watched him walk away before turning back to stare longingly at the photograph of her grandfather that sat behind the counter. "Give me strength, Grandad," she whispered in a kind of silent prayer before continuing with the process of setting up for the day.

Tony sat back at the circular dining table, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he breezed through that day's paper. It was mainly full of news stories about the controversy surrounding the hotel development. It had been the talk of the town for at least three months now. It had been a council decision, but it was Irene who was feeling the worst of it, just because she was mayor. But Tony knew that if anyone had bothered to attend the council meeting, as he had, then they'd know that Irene had voted against the development, but had been outnumbered.

He gave up on the supposed real news and flipped through to the classroom pages. Both Cassie Turner and Sally Fletcher had received awards for excellence in education, which brought a smile to his face. He'd have to remember to ring Matilda that night and let her know.

Suddenly, the peace was disturbed when he could hear a distressed female's voice crying out for help. The memory of where Jazz was hit him almost like a bolt of lightning and sent him racing into the bedroom, where he found her lying on Matilda's old bed. She was curled up into a ball, batting at the air as she continued to cry. He was about to call an ambulance until he realised that she was actually asleep.

"No…Jacob, please…" Jazz moaned, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please…what about the baby…please…"

Tony's eyes widened as Jazz continued to plead with this 'Jacob', begging for mercy. As she began to scream and recoil in what appeared to be pain, he decided that he'd heard all he needed to hear. He grabbed her shoulder gently, shaking it as violently as he dared to. "Jazz, Jazz!" he called. "Wake up!"

She jerked awake, trying to bat Tony away in her half-asleep daze. It took a few more seconds for her to truly become aware of her surroundings. Once she had, her face grew red with embarrassment and fear. "Oh, Tony…" she breathed, brushing at her hair with her hand. "I'm sorry…I must have been sleep-talking…I do it a bit according to my husband…"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Jacob, would it?" Tony asked kindly as he crouched down on the floor beside Jazz's bed, surveying her worriedly. She stared at him wide-eyed, but he didn't give her a chance to try to say no. "You were yelling at him in your sleep, you were begging him not to hurt you."

"Well, yes," Jazz finally replied, her face almost contorting with the strain of lying to Tony. "His name is Jacob, but he's never hurt me. It must have just been a nightmare…"

She rose to her feet to try to leave, only for Tony to beat her to the door. He grabbed her wrist in an attempt to stop her, only to find that she flinched from fear under his touch. "He's been hitting you," he told her, his voice high-pitched in disbelief. "That's why you ran away from him. That's why you're back in Summer Bay."

"Yes, alright!" Jazz admitted, her tears becoming fiercer. "Jacob's been hitting me almost since the day we got married. Happy now?"

And with those words still echoing through Tony's head, Jazz stormed off to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his worries.