UNDERCOVER

CHAPTER TWO

Tess Bateman-Fairhead was not a happy honeymooner. True, she was just married to the affable Charlie Fairhead, her fellow prison officer, and had a lovely room in the classy Waterfalls hotel, but there was a fly in the ointment. Two flies, to be exact, called Max and Zoe Walker.

Mrs Beauchamp, in her wisdom, had decided that the newly married – and heavily pregnant – Zoe should have a honeymoon. So she'd financed Tess and Charlie's honeymoon… on condition that they took Zoe and Max, who had been tagged rather than handcuffed this time, with them. Which meant babysitting the wretches day and night. They'd had to take them to the Pleasure Beach, where Zoe had constantly whined about only being able to go on the wimp rides in her condition. They'd gone to the zoo where Tess had had to endure Max pulling silly faces at the monkeys. And now they were in the Tower Ballroom where Sleaze Night was being filmed live.

Sleaze Night was the ballroom dancing competition programme introduced by Boris Horace Sleaze, an irritating comedian who lived up to his name.

Right now he was bouncing round the stage like an overgrown schoolboy.

"Welcome, WELCOME to another wonderful Sleaze Night. Just be brave, step on to the dance floor, and you'll be in the running to win a fabulous holiday for two in the Caribbean plus –"

-A chord from the orchestra –

"- A thousand pounds spending money!"

Whoops and cheers. Tess snorted as several happy, hopeful couples ran out on to the dance floor.

Not so Zoe and Max. Being so pregnant, Zoe could not risk dancing, and was feeling a bit peevish about that. It had been her dream to have a honeymoon that included a trip to the Tower Ballroom but now she just had to watch. Although she had to admit it was good of Connie Calvini-Beauchamp and her handsome husband to finance this trip for them, if only they hadn't insisted on the watchdogs going along as well. Then Zoe, seeing that Tess Bateman only had eyes for the dancers in front of her, nudged Max cheekily and slipped out her hip flask of vodka. Bless the Jeffs and their scams! But it wasn't her own drink that she slipped the vodka into…

Tess turned back, had a greedy swig of her J20 Mango, and suddenly felt as if she was in love with the whole world.

"I want to dance. Come on Charlie, let's do it."

Charlie and Tess arrived on the dance floor just as the music stopped. Boris noticed them and trumpeted it to the entire ballroom crowd.

"Awww, look at that, folks, a couple of silver surfers timed out! Tell you what, sweetie, you sit back and let the younger ones have a go, eh?"

Then the band began to play "Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen". Tess wasn't going to let the younger ones spoil this. She steered Charlie into the middle of the floor and they waltzed, with Tess crooning drunkenly into Charlie's ear:

"Wonderful wonderful Charlie Fairhead, almost as lovely as meeee…."

Max wagged his finger at Zoe, who was on the verge of howling with laughter.

A jive began.

"Throw me around, Charlie, I'm yours!" Tess crowed.

"She's just offended every feminist with UK TV reception" snarled Zoe.

The jive gave way to the Argentine Tango, the Salsa and the Viennese Waltz. One by one, Boris oiled his way round the floor, sending couples back to their seats. Until only one couple was left standing.

"AND these are our winners! A luxury fortnight's holiday for these two stars, with a thousand pounds spending money! What's your name, darling?"

"Tess" smirked Mrs Bateman-Fairhead.

"And who's this handsome man beside you?"

"Charlie", replied the confused but happy Mr Fairhead.

Cameras clicked. Through the fog in her mind Tess had a feeling that the authorities at Holby weren't going to be too happy about this.

Zoe certainly wasn't happy. She'd had to sit and see the bloody watchdogs winning themselves a luxury trip to sand, sea and… snooker. While she couldn't even manage to get up and do a slow waltz. Her stomach was already doing some nasty things as it was.

A slow waltz itself began to play.

"Come on darling, I'll be very gentle with you" Max coaxed.

"Nooo! I'm having the baby, Max!"

"Darling, don't joke like that-"

"Do my eyes usually bug out when I'm joking? Max I'm having the BABEEEEE…."

Boris bounded over ready to chastise the bad losers for their stupid joke. Then he saw Zoe's condition and felt somewhat queasy with apprehension.

"Anybody got a mobile?" he bawled.

In Holby General hospital, Zoe was smiling happily at the two bundles in her arms. Max was smiling now but first of all had been a little traumatised by watching the act of birth for the first time in his life. Then he kept saying 'twins, twins' like a Zombie.

Suddenly Zoe's smile faded and her lip quivered.

"Oh Max, we'll lose them. We'll lose our babies. They won't let a poisoner and a con-man keep their babies."

"Accidental poisoner" replied Max kindly. His arm went round Zoe, who was sobbing now. The nurse hurried over.

"Mr Walker, it's probably better if you leave now" she said, then bit her lip. Mr Walker couldn't leave. He had to wait until his and Zoe's new escort, Jacob Masters, could take him back to prison.

"Just try not to upset Mrs Hanna-Walker any further."

"He hasn't upset me" wailed Zoe, "I upset myself. I'll lose my babies!"

"Is this a bad time to visit?" Calvino, Rita and Connie entered the ward with a huge parcel.

"Zoe's upset because we'll not be allowed to… keep the baaabies!" Max suddenly dissolved into tears. The nurse discreetly passed him a tissue.

"But supposing somebody you know and trust adopted them and you were allowed to see them every week?" Connie asked gently.

"You and Calvino?" asked Zoe, feeling a small ray of hope.

"Me and Rita" Connie replied.

Zoe gaped.

"Oh come on Zoe, somebody as streetwise as you must have picked up on that!"

Zoe shook her head.

"Of course we shall make it clear to everybody else that it will be myself and the lovely Countess here who will adopt the babies" Calvino explained.

"Will try to adopt the babies. We have to go through a lot of red tape first, Vino."

Calvino smiled to hide the constant hurt in his heart. He wished… but how could he wish poor little Rita didn't exist? No, he would have to live with this.

"We bought you a lovely big carrycot for twins" Rita indicated the parcel, "But if we're trying to adopt the babies, maybe we should keep it for now."

"Oh you shouldn't have" said Zoe, a little bitterly, until Connie produced a box of chocolates.

The nurse swooped down.

"Let's put these chocolates in your locker, Mrs Hanna-Walker. Teatime soon."

"Glad you call it tea. At least the Jeffs can cook" grizzled Zoe.

"Well, we must be getting back to the nick" Rita said somewhat tactlessly, and then:

"Oh! Robyn's knitting some bootees."

"Awww."

For now, Zoe's anxieties about her twins had calmed a little.

Calvino, Connie and Rita weren't the only people thinking of adoption.

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