Um, I know most of you said you preferred Scars, but I've been away for an extended weekend in Belgium and France. I've been busy and I'm tired and this was the chapter I wrote before I went away and I haven't got round to writing any more of Scars yet. And that was too much repetition of the word 'and'.

Sorry, anyway. You'll all just have to put up with some Rachel/Janet/Gill angst again. It's a hard life.

Chapter 3:

"Rach, open the door?" Janet asked tentatively.

Rachel was sitting on the edge of the bath, mopping at the tracks of mascara on her cheeks with a wad of damp toilet roll. She was chewing the cuticle on the side of her thumb, tearing away layers of skin; a droplet of blood dripped down and hit her knee.

"Rach? What's wrong? Seriously, I feel really stupid talking to a door. Come on – it's just me here, the lads are discussing the pros and cons of having He's got the whole world in His hands as the opening hymn, so they'll be occupied for a while..."

Rachel leant across to unlock the door. Janet slipped inside the bathroom, and after she'd held Rachel in her arms for a long moment, humming softly in her motherly tone, she sat down on the side of the bath too, her arm around her best friend's shoulder.

"Oh, Rach. Is it the wedding, getting to you? You've still got three hundred days, remember? There's plenty of time to sort everything out – it'll be perfect."

"It's two hundred and ninety seven," she managed a small smile, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand like she'd seen Haydn do when he'd fallen over in the garden, "I know. It's not that. Well, it is that, but it's just... I don't know what I want any more."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just not sure if I want this. The wedding."

Janet's gentle blue eyes widened, "Rachel, stop right there. You can't say that; I mean, if you don't love him, it's a massive decision to make, to dedicate your life to him. I know you argue sometimes, but I thought you loved him. And you know how much he loves you, don't you? What's made you think like this?"

"I do love him. I think. Well no, I do – I love him."

"You don't sound very convinced."

"Sometimes it's difficult for me to be sure who I love, after..." Rachel sighed, "After Mum, and Nick, and..."

"But that's all in the past now, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

They sat in companiable silence. Another tear ran down Rachel's cheek; Janet squeezed her shoulder supportively, but said nothing, because she wasn't sure that words covered it.

"It's... it's Gill."

"Oh," Janet said.

"She just... she was just so weird about it. Like, I know she's a bitch, and I know she hates me; I should've realised she'd be like that, really. I should never have asked her," she sniffed, tucking her feet up on the table, "But I genuinely wanted her to do it. I thought we were friends, I thought after everything we'd been through together... I guess I was wrong."

"No, she does like you. She talks about you sometimes – she says how glad she is that she snatched you up, says that she thinks you'll be a great detective some day in the future."

"Why did she treat me like that, then? Made a complete fool out of me – it was like I was just shit on the floor, and she was trying to wipe me off her boot before anyone else smelt it, or something."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"How could she not have meant it?"

Janet grimaced. The kind of grimace Rachel had learnt to recognise as meaning I know something you don't, which might explain what's happening, but I'm not sure whether to tell you.

"What? Tell me."

"It's... I mean, you know as well as I do what happened with Dave – she never really got over it, did she? She still hates him; it still upsets her, what he did to Sammy."

"And?"

"And it's a wedding. Weddings are supposed to be the happiest day of your life – imagine how hard it would be for her to see you and Sean so... so full of life, when she's not got any of that any more," Janet said softly.

"One in seven weddings end in divorce," Rachel snapped, chewing her bloodied finger again, "It's not like it's a massive thing, is it? He left, like, five years ago."

"Your mum left twenty years ago, Rach, and you're still pretty pissed off at her for that, aren't you?"

"That's different."

"It isn't. Sammy was in exactly the same position as you – he lost a parent, really, didn't he? I know your dad was an alcoholic, and I know things were hard for you, but imagine how it must have felt to him? That's only like it feels to Gill."

Rachel gave a half-hearted smile, "Maybe Gill's an alchy too."

Both women quietened as footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Sean called out to them through the door, sounding almost worried, "Rach, are you okay, babe?"

Sean didn't really call her babe or love often– as a couple, they weren't really very affectionate. Or perhaps she just didn't let them be affectionate; maybe she shied away from love, because she was still scarred by her childhood, and her parents' relationship falling apart.

She suddenly wanted to cry all over again. She did love him, she really did. He was warm, and funny, and friendly. He genuinely cared about her – she wasn't sure what else she could want. She'd just have preferred to have Gill's support, somehow.

She loved him, but he wouldn't understand this.

"Yeah, we're just sorting out my measurements for the dress," Rachel told him, coughing to hide the tearful hoarseness in her voice, "Give me a few minutes. You could order the pizza now if you want – let Kevin have his Margherita."

"Okay."

Janet laughed, "Measurements? Quick thinking."

"Not on MIT for nothing, you know."

"Unlike poor Kev, who's there to make the rest of us look good."

Rachel stood up to examine herself in the mirror, rubbing at a smudge of mascara on her cheek. Janet stood up too, running her fingers through her friend's hair, mothering her.

It made Janet shiver to think of her daughters without their parents. If she'd died last year, after the incident with Jeff Hastings... Yes, her and Ade were going through a rough patch; yes, they hadn't gone out anywhere together for a while, but God, she still loved him. Taisie and Elise still saw both of their parents – that was the deal, a mum and a dad. It made Janet sad to think that not all children had a stable family home, somewhere they felt safe.

"You okay now?"

"Yeah."

Janet smiled, but it wasn't a real smile. "I know you're angry at her, but you've got to try and understand. She still loves Dave, really. That kind of pain... I'm not sure it ever really heals."

XxXxX