Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC

Content: Boyd and Grace

Rating: K

The Rose And Crown cont...

Out of every scenario I had imagined during the last few hours - and there were many - Boyd getting married had not been one of them. I let the news sink in, disturbed at the knot forming in my stomach on hearing his explanation. Aware that I need to say something... anything, I meekly offer, "Congratulations, that's great news."

Great news? My mind is tumbling over the words which I can't seem to reconcile within myself. My mouth may have offered the expected response, but my heart is finding it hard to match the sentiments.

Boyd is not the marrying kind; at least I always thought he wasn't. He tried it once, with Mary, many years ago and always swore blind he would never repeat the experience having learnt from his mistake. I quickly discovered that his flippant 'of the cuff' remarks were only surface deep and there was a much darker reason for his reticence. Essentially Boyd blamed himself for the breakdown of his marriage and subsequently for messing up his son's life so much he went completely of the rails. Maybe this means he has now finally made peace with his demons?

"Thanks," he says smiling politely.

"So, come on then, who's the lucky lady?"

"Carol."

"Carol ...?"

"Jeffries."

Honestly, it's like getting blood out of a stone. Anyone would think I was torturing the man and he could only give one word answers because of the severe duress. I wonder briefly if this seems like the normal behaviour of someone on what is supposed to be the happiest day of their life before instantly dismissing the thought. This is Boyd, after all.

"So where did you meet this Carol Jeffries then?"

"She's the sister of a mate from work. He had a birthday party and she was there, we hit it off."

"Seemingly so," I reply. "I'm glad that you are happy."

There is something in the way he hesitates that sparks my intrigue. A brief glimpse of doubt flits across his eyes as silently he stares at me.

"You are, happy, aren't you?" I hear myself question.

Boyd inhales deeply before gruffly clearing his throat. "I thought so, yes."

I shrug. "So what's changed?"

"I lay wide awake the entire night last night trying to figure out exactly that."

"And what did you conclude?"

"That I needed to speak to you."

"I'm not your shrink, Boyd, I can't tell you what to do!"

"Well you spent the best part of a decade trying to..."

"That's unfair, and untrue! Anyway, I haven't seen you in over two years. I've given up trying to work out what goes on in that head of yours!"

"You always know, Grace," he answers, his voice dropping to no more than a whisper.

I prided myself for many years that I knew Boyd better than anyone else, well inasmuch as anyone could know Boyd. No-one could deny that we had a special relationship, but even I was often caught off guard by his inherent unpredictability. Peter Boyd always did exactly what Peter Boyd wanted to do.

I can feel his eyes fixed on me and know that this is one of those 'off guard' moments. Boyd has completely blindsided me, both with the announcement of his imminent wedding and now with trying to determine exactly what he's expecting me to say. If truth be known I'm having trouble wading through my own emotions without having to counsel Boyd through his. A shadow of deep sadness has embraced me and I'm not entirely sure why.

I decide to go straight for the big money question. "Do you love her?"

"I love the idea of her..."

"Not the same, Boyd," I say a little too defensive of a woman I've never met.

"She's been good for me. After leaving the Met I was a little... lost. It took me a while to settle into the routine of civilian life, meeting Carol helped me normalise things."

"And that's a good thing, but are you in love with her?"

He continues on pointedly ignoring my question. "I didn't intend to propose you know, it kinda just tumbled out. Next thing I know I'm talking churches and venues."

I laugh lightly at his admission. It was so Boyd. Speak first, think later.

"So this is not what you want?"

"I didn't say that..." he shoots back tersely.

I feel my annoyance at him rise. It's as familiar as it is infuriating. "And just what are you saying, Boyd, because I'm completely lost. I don't know what you expect me to say or do. Are you wanting me to tell you if you should marry Carol or not, because quite frankly I can't, and won't, do that!"

Apparently totally unaware of my frustration he continued. "Carol's a lovely lady, she's made me happier than I've been in years."

"But..."

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. "But... I'm not sure it's enough."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Boyd," I reply reaching for my bag before getting to my feet, "... if you don't know the answer to that by now then I can't help you!"

He stares at me. "Sit down, Grace... please."

There is something in his eyes that convinces me to take my seat again. We sit in stony silence for a few moments before he speaks again. "Where did it all go wrong?"

"Huh?"

"For us. Where did it all go wrong?"

My mind darts frantically attempting to interpret his words. "I wasn't aware that it had gone wrong..."

"Aw, come on, that's complete bull and you know it. We were close, really close at one point..." His voice falls away. "I mean, how many great lunches did we spend in here, huh? Just you and me. We didn't even tell the rest of the team about this place, afraid they might gate-crash our little haven."

I smile at the memory. The Rose and Crown, had he chosen this place deliberately? No, I'm overthinking it; Boyd's not at all sentimental.

"Life moves on and has a cruel way of changing things."

His eyes narrow questioningly. "And we changed?"

"I think so."

Boyd ponders my reply for a moment before answering, "I disagree. It never changed for me, Grace. I just couldn't find the capacity to deal with everything, not in the way you wanted me to."

"And what way was that?"

"With words. I've never been good at expressing myself, especially the important things in life."

"Such as Luke's death?"

"Yea," he answers quietly, "amongst other things."

I know just how much Luke's death affected him. Losing your son is difficult enough but when the circumstances were so terrible it's completely devastating. If I'm honest about pin-pointing a time when our relationship started to change I think it was during that period. Of course it was completely understandable. He had lost his son and I can't imagine ever suffering so much pain, but in his grief he completely shut me out of his life. His mood became much darker as he developed a devil-may-care attitude. The more I tried to help the more he resented it and pushed me away until finally I had to stop trying to protect myself. It was only when I had the cancer scare that we reached equilibrium again.

"We all deal with things differently."

"But not all make such a monumental mess of it."

"You're getting married today, Boyd, obviously it hasn't all been bad."

"Yea, to the wrong bloody woman."

I still, lifting my eyes to study his face. It's completely unreadable.

"Excuse me?"

He shrugs. "I'm marrying the wrong woman, Grace..."

Tbc …